Myshuno! 2012 - piece 3
Title: Revelations.
Prompt: Greg/Mari (leilia)
Rating: U.
Spoiler rating: 3/10.
Summary: Gregory realises something rather important.
Notes: This takes place a couple of years in the future to where I am now. The incident with the fishing rod, is from a drabble I had planned for last year's Myshuno! but never got round to writing.
Word Count: 1,052.
“Oh, Arabella, no,” sighed Gregory Roseland as he struggled to prise his sister’s chubby little fingers from the bow tie he had carefully tied only five minutes before. It had seemed like such a good idea to scoop her up and kiss her goodnight, before joining his parents in the entrance hall to wait for Harry, who was still dressing. He had, however, forgotten her propensity to tug upon any ribbon or loose thread she saw. Unfortunately, his bow tie had proved too tempting to her, and she had grabbed it almost as soon as he had picked her up. One end now hung rather loosely round his neck, while Arabella giggled and held onto the other. “Mine Gwegowy. I want it.”
“But you cannot have it. It is my tie. I cannot go out, without my tie.”
“Give her to me,” said his brother from the doorway of their shared bedroom. “I will give her to the nanny. I know you will want to make sure you look your best for Miss Tudor.”
Greg stuttered as, on seeing her other brother, Arabella let go of the tie and flung herself out of Greg’s arms, towards Harry. Harry managed to catch her, and shaking his head at Greg’s expression, walked up the stairs towards the nursery, Arabella’s face buried in his neck.
Greg walked back into his bedroom and noticed that he was rather pink about the ears as he set about retying his bowtie. It was because he was annoyed with Arabella, and he didn’t like being annoyed with the toddler, that had to be it. Certainly not because of his brother’s remarks. After all, yes, he did like Mari, erm Miss Tudor, they had been friends for a couple of years now, since she was a child of eleven, and he thought that she was quite possibly the sweetest girl of his acquaintance. The fact that she had recently blossomed into a beautiful… no, attractive…no, admirable young lady, made no odds to him. And the fishing rod that he had dropped into the serpentine that day she had approached him, not long after her birthday, had been retrieved, none the worse for wear. He had, after all, only dropped it out of surprise and disappointment that he had missed her special day. There was no other reason at all.
He finished tying his tie and inspected himself in the mirror. It perhaps wasn’t as neat as before, but he did look presentable, and the pinkness had subsided from his features. He would do, he supposed.
He made his way down into the entrance hall, where his mother was attempting to smooth the wrinkles Arabella had wrought on Harry’s evening suit. She looked up as he got to the foot of the stairs. “Well at least one of my sons looks smart, although… what have you done to your tie? It is hardly laying flat.”
“Arabella,” said Greg in explanation.
Louisa shook her head. “Really you two, while it gladdens my heart that you both care so much for your younger sister, I do wish that you would not insist on attending to the nanny’s duties instead of making sure you are dressed correctly. At least we are dining with family and not at a restaurant up town.”
Cyd looked over at his wife and sons. “If you are ready, we should get going.”
Louisa looked over her sons once more. “I suppose, you will have to do. Let us go.”
Ten minutes later, the Roselands were standing in the entrance hall of Owen Tudor’s Simdon home, being greeted by their Cousin Vicky and her fiancé. “Thank you for inviting us to dine with you and Vicky, Mr Tudor. It is always a pleasure to see you.”
“Likewise Mrs Roseland. Mari has been especially looking forward to tonight.”
Greg’s ears pricked up at that. Mari, had been looking forward to this evening? The thought gave him a warm glow he couldn’t fully explain.
Louisa smiled. “How lovely. And where is your ward, Mr Tudor?”
“Waiting in the drawing room. Come through.”
Vicky and Owen led then into the drawing room, where Mari put down her needlework and stood up. “Mari, the Roselands are here,” said Vicky as they entered.
“Good evening Mr and Mrs Roseland,” said Mari, bobbing shyly. “Good evening Harry, Greg.” She looked up at Gregory through her eyelashes as she said his name, causing his heart to beat faster. “Mari,” he muttered.
He found himself sitting opposite her at dinner, and as the conversation flowed, he couldn’t stop himself from looking over at her, admiring the curve of her cheek, or how her teeth showed prettily when she gave her shy smile, or how her dark blue eyes flashed in the soft candlelight. And each time he did, he admonished himself less and less.
The group retired to the drawing room after dinner, and Louisa took up her customary place at the piano. “I expect Uncle Owen will ask me to sing.” Greg jumped slightly and looked down to see that Mari was standing beside him. He tried to keep his voice sounding even as he replied “I expect he will. You have a very sweet voice Mari.”
She smiled up at him. “It is kind of you to say so, perhaps you would care to join me.”
Greg laughed. “No, I would quite ruin the song.”
“Mari, will not you regale us?” Owen’s voice interrupted them. Mari looked over at him. “Of course Uncle.” She turned her attention back towards Gregory. “I am certain your singing voice cannot be as ill as you say. You must join me at some point this evening.” She reached out and squeezed his hand. It was like a jolt travelled up his arm shocking him. She must have felt something too, because she looked up at him, eyes wide and mouth parted in surprise.
“Mari?”
“C.c.coming Uncle,” Mari stuttered as she let go of Greg’s hand. He watched her cross the room, turning back every now and then to look at him, her eyes still wide. As he met her gaze, he knew with a certainty that was un-nerving for a seventeen year old, that for as long as he drew breath, he would never love any woman but Mari Tudor.
Prompt: Greg/Mari (leilia)
Rating: U.
Spoiler rating: 3/10.
Summary: Gregory realises something rather important.
Notes: This takes place a couple of years in the future to where I am now. The incident with the fishing rod, is from a drabble I had planned for last year's Myshuno! but never got round to writing.
Word Count: 1,052.
“Oh, Arabella, no,” sighed Gregory Roseland as he struggled to prise his sister’s chubby little fingers from the bow tie he had carefully tied only five minutes before. It had seemed like such a good idea to scoop her up and kiss her goodnight, before joining his parents in the entrance hall to wait for Harry, who was still dressing. He had, however, forgotten her propensity to tug upon any ribbon or loose thread she saw. Unfortunately, his bow tie had proved too tempting to her, and she had grabbed it almost as soon as he had picked her up. One end now hung rather loosely round his neck, while Arabella giggled and held onto the other. “Mine Gwegowy. I want it.”
“But you cannot have it. It is my tie. I cannot go out, without my tie.”
“Give her to me,” said his brother from the doorway of their shared bedroom. “I will give her to the nanny. I know you will want to make sure you look your best for Miss Tudor.”
Greg stuttered as, on seeing her other brother, Arabella let go of the tie and flung herself out of Greg’s arms, towards Harry. Harry managed to catch her, and shaking his head at Greg’s expression, walked up the stairs towards the nursery, Arabella’s face buried in his neck.
Greg walked back into his bedroom and noticed that he was rather pink about the ears as he set about retying his bowtie. It was because he was annoyed with Arabella, and he didn’t like being annoyed with the toddler, that had to be it. Certainly not because of his brother’s remarks. After all, yes, he did like Mari, erm Miss Tudor, they had been friends for a couple of years now, since she was a child of eleven, and he thought that she was quite possibly the sweetest girl of his acquaintance. The fact that she had recently blossomed into a beautiful… no, attractive…no, admirable young lady, made no odds to him. And the fishing rod that he had dropped into the serpentine that day she had approached him, not long after her birthday, had been retrieved, none the worse for wear. He had, after all, only dropped it out of surprise and disappointment that he had missed her special day. There was no other reason at all.
He finished tying his tie and inspected himself in the mirror. It perhaps wasn’t as neat as before, but he did look presentable, and the pinkness had subsided from his features. He would do, he supposed.
He made his way down into the entrance hall, where his mother was attempting to smooth the wrinkles Arabella had wrought on Harry’s evening suit. She looked up as he got to the foot of the stairs. “Well at least one of my sons looks smart, although… what have you done to your tie? It is hardly laying flat.”
“Arabella,” said Greg in explanation.
Louisa shook her head. “Really you two, while it gladdens my heart that you both care so much for your younger sister, I do wish that you would not insist on attending to the nanny’s duties instead of making sure you are dressed correctly. At least we are dining with family and not at a restaurant up town.”
Cyd looked over at his wife and sons. “If you are ready, we should get going.”
Louisa looked over her sons once more. “I suppose, you will have to do. Let us go.”
Ten minutes later, the Roselands were standing in the entrance hall of Owen Tudor’s Simdon home, being greeted by their Cousin Vicky and her fiancé. “Thank you for inviting us to dine with you and Vicky, Mr Tudor. It is always a pleasure to see you.”
“Likewise Mrs Roseland. Mari has been especially looking forward to tonight.”
Greg’s ears pricked up at that. Mari, had been looking forward to this evening? The thought gave him a warm glow he couldn’t fully explain.
Louisa smiled. “How lovely. And where is your ward, Mr Tudor?”
“Waiting in the drawing room. Come through.”
Vicky and Owen led then into the drawing room, where Mari put down her needlework and stood up. “Mari, the Roselands are here,” said Vicky as they entered.
“Good evening Mr and Mrs Roseland,” said Mari, bobbing shyly. “Good evening Harry, Greg.” She looked up at Gregory through her eyelashes as she said his name, causing his heart to beat faster. “Mari,” he muttered.
He found himself sitting opposite her at dinner, and as the conversation flowed, he couldn’t stop himself from looking over at her, admiring the curve of her cheek, or how her teeth showed prettily when she gave her shy smile, or how her dark blue eyes flashed in the soft candlelight. And each time he did, he admonished himself less and less.
The group retired to the drawing room after dinner, and Louisa took up her customary place at the piano. “I expect Uncle Owen will ask me to sing.” Greg jumped slightly and looked down to see that Mari was standing beside him. He tried to keep his voice sounding even as he replied “I expect he will. You have a very sweet voice Mari.”
She smiled up at him. “It is kind of you to say so, perhaps you would care to join me.”
Greg laughed. “No, I would quite ruin the song.”
“Mari, will not you regale us?” Owen’s voice interrupted them. Mari looked over at him. “Of course Uncle.” She turned her attention back towards Gregory. “I am certain your singing voice cannot be as ill as you say. You must join me at some point this evening.” She reached out and squeezed his hand. It was like a jolt travelled up his arm shocking him. She must have felt something too, because she looked up at him, eyes wide and mouth parted in surprise.
“Mari?”
“C.c.coming Uncle,” Mari stuttered as she let go of Greg’s hand. He watched her cross the room, turning back every now and then to look at him, her eyes still wide. As he met her gaze, he knew with a certainty that was un-nerving for a seventeen year old, that for as long as he drew breath, he would never love any woman but Mari Tudor.