Bouquet: Firewood for Winter
Title: Bouquet, Firewood for Winter
Series: Fire Emblem 7: Rekka no Ken/The Blazing Sword
Rating: PG
Genre: Friendship/Romance
Characters: Pent/Louise
(C) Intelligent Systems and Nintendo
Note the First: I use this and this other site for my Victorian flower translations. The second is more thorough than the first.
Summary: Pent and Louise enjoy being together again.
Firewood for Winter: Jonaquil, Fleur-de-lis
(i burn with affection returned)
It was good to be home again, Pent reflected as he admired his office, which had finally been returned to its original condition from before House Tilley invaded his ancestral home. When they had finally vacated the premises in October, it was discovered that a number of rooms, including his office and bedroom, had fallen into considerable disrepair, the sort that did not happen by any natural means of mere abandonment. Once he had rehired all the old servants as well as some new ones to take care of the mess, he had spent the majority of his time in Aquleia working in his family townhouse alongside Raike and the rest of Castle Reglay's law clerks as they all tried to make sense of the financial and legal incursions made during his 'death'; the king had been adamant that he wanted full records, as he would be basing his decision whether to strip Baron Tilley of his noble powers.
By no means did the baron leave with any sense of grace in regards to any bit of Reglay, house or castle--it was already February and there were still questions on certain sums of money. Pent was tempted to hand over what had already been completed and request that the king's retainers do the rest, but this sort of work made him feel more like a count; that is, it was a very different life compared to the rigors of the time he had spent on the Western Isles, and with each successful task in this new--old--life he remembered a little more the purpose he had been born into.
Lord Pent, Count Reglay. He remembered a time when he had wanted to do nothing more than to deny his birthright.
"Lord Pent," Raike called as he entered the room, a stack of papers in his arms, "here are the license renewals for each of the wineries. I've also had a few clerks research any influxes in their records over the past year for the sake of a more thorough review."
Glancing behind him, where the large windows stood in all their full glory, Pent studied the road that led to the castle proper. Other than a few guards, there was nothing of interest. "Well then," he said as he turned away and approached his desk, placing a hand on the back of his chair as he looked at the papers Raike was now putting down and separating, "did you find anything particularly suspicious? We'll look at those first."
Raike looked up from his task with a slight smile on his face, his complexion clear of the blotches that told his emotions better than his expressions ever could. "Very good, milord. Actually, I did find some oddities in the records of Rhine Wineries. Now, if you'll take a seat, I'll go over the basic points..."
As they began to pore over the pages and pages of notes regarding each of Reglay County's vineyards and wineries, Pent studied the man before him. He had never doubted Raike's loyalty--had never really thought about it one way or another, in all honesty--but it had still been a surprise to find Raike loitering in front of the palace after Pent had been welcomed back in early September, though his legal status was still in murky waters.
"Raike? What are you doing here?"
"I've been waiting here for you. I was sent here by Count Caerleon to run a number of errands, and I heard that you came to the palace on a daily basis. If I may, I would like to ask you a question."
"Yes?"
"What do you intend to do now?"
"After my title is returned to me, I would like to establish a number of reforms to Reglay."
"So you will be challenging the baron? I see. Then please, allow me to assist you as your clerk again."
"Why not as my steward?"
"...Well, my wife will only allow it if you give me a raise."
"That's fine. Once you've settled your affairs with Count Caerleon, return here and we'll work on the legalities before us."
"Lord Pent?"
His reverie interrupted, Pent merely blinked. "Yes?"
"If you're going to daydream, can you not stare at me while you do so?" Raike insisted, the darkening blotches on his cheeks betraying his bland expression. Pent smiled slightly as he shifted his gaze to the wall on his left.
"Pardon me."
"You really should focus, though. I thought you wanted to finish everything before Lady Louise arrived?"
Pent knew he grimaced a little in response, because Raike was giving him something of a sympathetic look when he looked at his steward out of the corner of his eye. Raising his head from his hand, he straightened his posture and picked up his pen. Yet, instead of continuing the arduous task of signing his name on the ordinances before him, Pent asked, "Why did you find me in Aquleia?"
Raike looked at him, then past him. "Reglay is my home. I was only able to go to university in Aquleia thanks to your father's kindness. My parents lived and worked here all their lives, my sons were born here, and my father is buried here. I didn't intend to leave in the first place, and while Caerleon is nice, the count there is far more concerned with his family than his county. I want to serve a lord who isn't just satisfied with maintaining the status quo but builds upon it and improves his lands for everyone."
"I don't know if I can match your expectations," Pent answered with complete honesty. To this, Raike smiled.
"It's enough that you try. I don't want Etruria to grow stagnant. I want--"
There was a knock at the door, and both men looked at it. From the other side, a maid's voice could be heard. "Milord, her carriage has arrived. What would you like us to do?"
His heart seemed to leap uncomfortably high as Pent rose from his seat with a speed that quite frankly surprised himself, turning towards the large windows behind his desk. There, amongst the white fields and the single gray road, was the dark color of a carriage. Despite himself, he grinned before turning to Raike. "Forgive me," he started, "but I'll leave the rest to you."
"Wha--Lord Pent, I might like to see her too! Do you see how much you've left me?" But Pent was already sweeping past the grand desk and all its piles of paperwork for the door, which he opened with such quickness that the maid on the other side gasped in surprise. He nodded at her.
"If all the preparations are complete, then please feel free to do as you like."
His order given, Pent left for the foyer of the castle, down the stairs and out the front door, past all the servants rushing to and fro and kicking up dustings of the shallow snow that was ever present in the winter, advancing all the while towards the dark carriage and its mere two horses that were even now being unlatched by the stablemen. The cold air was refreshing considering how fast he had moved, but it could not calm the speed of his beating heart nor completely cool the warmth that suffused his cheeks.
The carriage door opened, and Louise, skirts and cloak and cute little cap and all, departed from the vehicle with an unladylike hop. He could only focus on her wide grin as she rushed towards him, and he had to admit his utmost surprise when she failed to stop and instead bounded right into him with a leap that was possibly gravity-defying considering the weight of her clothes. It was only with reflexes he had been forced to develop during his long time away that allowed him to catch her in his arms as she collided with him with a squeal of unmistakable delight issuing from her lips. He only gasped at the suddenly reality of her, weight and touch and her.
Then her arms went around his waist in the tightest embrace he had ever experienced in all his nineteen years of life, and he found he could not want anything more.
Not even the ticklish feeling he received from the fur of her cap along his jawline caused him to move away from her; it was when he heard a woman's cough that he opened his eyes and stared straight into Lady Catherine's eyes, so similar to her daughter's that he jolted involuntarily. Then he carefully disengaged himself from Louise just in case of reprisal, even though there was a smile playing along the woman's painted lips. Louise only gave a little giggle, perhaps out of nervousness, when she turned around and found her mother there.
"You're quite the elegant lady, aren't you?" Lady Catherine said with no ire. He did not feel it was an entirely unconscious reaction when he shifted his weight slightly, as if he could dodge any sharp barbs she aimed in his direction. "And as for you, Lord Pent, I would greatly appreciate being escorted to our rooms at your earliest convenience."
Quickly he offered his elbow to her. "Then we shall go now, if you like."
"Ah, I really only meant for a servant. No need to overextend yourself."
"This is the least I can do for you, Lady Catherine," he replied. Turning to Louise, he held out his free hand. "Louise?"
Smiling, Louise reached for his hand, but she stopped when her mother said, "Louise, won't you assist Celia and Lisette? I recall how distracted Lisette gets around snowy environs. They remind her too much of her childhood days up north."
"Oh, of course, Mother." Briefly, she grinned at Pent. "Thank you for your kindness. Will we meet at afternoon tea?"
He rarely had proper teatimes, not even once he returned to Reglay as its master; food had been rationed carefully at Fibernia, and he had grown too accustomed to that practice to overcome its hold on him now. "Of course. I'll see you then," he said, because guests dictated the itinerary in Etrurian culture and he could never deny Louise her pleasures. And anyway, her bright smile was more than enough of a reward for his capitulation.
Lady Catherine took hold of his elbow, and after they had reached the foyer in comfortable silence she turned to him with something of a smile--something, as it did not seem to come from a completely joyous frame of mind. "Yes, it's true this is the least you can do for me, isn't it? I am going to be your mother-in-law now, you realize."
"Yes, that is true," he answered, caution establishing itself in the face of her smirk. "It's an honor. I hope you won't mind having someone like me as your son."
"Let's hope not," she said with an odd cheerfulness that did not match her narrowed eyes or deepening smirk. "Now, my daughter is seventeen and I understand that a certain amount of lenience is necessary considering your unique circumstances, but if you would like me to keep to your library and not being a particularly attentive mother, you should listen well to my rules...keep walking, dear, and please try not to look so faint. I don't think I would like anyone to interrupt our talk. Wouldn't you agree, Lord Pent?"
With a forced smile, Pent said, "And here I had thought the worst was behind me now that I've returned." To this, Lady Catherine only laughed before looking forward.
"Oh, Lord Pent, you really are quite cute. Now, keep walking and listen well, won't you?"
-0-
It had been too long since Louise had returned to Castle Reglay; perhaps that was why the atmosphere of the place was much improved from the days when she sought to help Lord Pent. Before, she had remembered it as a cold place, not a home (never a home) but rather a place where Lord Pent lived and his servants worked. Now, as she watched the maids assigned to her perform their duties with a sort of pleasure she had only evinced from Celia, Lisette, and Ellie back home, she wondered if Lord Pent's arrival after his false death and his time away had not fully awakened the hearts of those who worked here to a love for their duties under the true master of Castle Reglay.
"Lady Louise, is everything to your liking?" asked one of the maids, a sweet brunette named Sophie who was perhaps a year or two younger than Louise herself. She had chattered as pleasantly as a small songbird while helping Celia store Louise's dresses and undergarments, much to the delight of Louise--how wonderful it would be to finally make a friend among the maids of the castle, especially after the tulmultous scenes of her very earliest time in the castle two years before?
"Everything's wonderful, Sophie," Louise said with a smile. "Have you been working here for long?"
Sophie laughed, brushing her hands on her white apron. "No, I'm new! Milord brought me and my brother Alex here after he visited my house."
It seemed as if two strings tied themselves together in Louise's mind as she realized something. "Oh! Was this when Lord Pent went to western Etruria after he regained his title?"
"I don't know anything about that..." Sophie said with a soft pout of confusion. "He came with this other man, a strong-looking mercenary, to tell us what happened to Thomas, and then he offered a place to stay and work for any of us who wanted it. Poppa and Mom and Grandpa didn't want to go anywhere, and Donny's too young and Rachel's already married, but me and Alex thought it was our turn to work for the family. You know, Thomas had been taking care of us for years and that's how he got into trouble, so..." Laughing with a softness that seemed too fragile to bear the weight of her experiences, Sophie looked away from Louise. "Sorry, milady doesn't want to hear this."
"You shouldn't say that. Lady Louise loves to listen to everyone," Celia said, pausing as she looked at her handiwork, fine dresses all in a row from the softest pink to the purest white to the richest burgundy. Louise nodded with a vigor that was common to her daily conversations with others.
"Yes, absolutely! I want to learn more about you and where you came from, Sophie! We should become great friends!"
Sophie stared at her with wide hazel eyes. "Friends...with the count's bride?"
Even the thought of it had Louise blazing from chest to forehead; a mention such as this made her instinctively hide her face in her hands. "I-i-it's not quite yet...n-not until May..." The laughter that penetrated her ears was the sound of sweet Celia's lovely voice, the hands on her wrists belonging to that same fair creature; yet, Louise could not help but resist when her dearest friend tried to pry her hands from her face. It was never in doubt who would win that particular battle, as when Celia had a mind to do something it was always done with time to spare.
"Come, come, some fresh air will do you good and calm that fierce color on your face." Louise struggled as Celia hauled her to her feet.
"But I'm having tea with Lord Pent soon!"
"Wouldn't you like to visit Madame Amy, if only for a bit?"
Louise hesitated, and that made it all the more easier for Celia to pull her towards the door. "Y-yes...but what about my outfit for tea?"
"Sophie!" Celia called. "Take out the light pink dress with the white lace and a white slip to match, as well as the magenta leggings and the dark flats and the white indoor cape, and lay them out on the bed. I'll show you how to prepare her once we get back."
"But--"
With one elegant movement of her finger, Celia silenced her excuses. "Let's go see Madame Amy, shall we? You two have been penning missives to each other since the spring, so certainly it's your duty now to pay her a visit at first chance. Correct?"
It was true, wonderfully true. Louise lowered her head in a demure attempt to hide her smile. "Thank you, Celia," she murmured. "You always know what's best for me."
"I didn't think going to your lord grandfather would be for the best, but you proved me wrong," Celia replied as they headed towards the grand staircase to the castle foyer. Louise hesitated, knowing well that the topic that wanted nothing more than to burst from her lips was one that they were in contention over.
"Then...if I am at least a little successful in these things, won't you stay with me a little longer?"
They left the castle and traveled down the road to the gates which led to the castle town itself, the crisp February air stinging Louise's cheeks. Belatedly she remembered that her sturdy fur-trimmed cloak had long been discarded in the grand room that was to be her own for the duration of her week-long stay at the castle, leaving her in her dress and that alone. It was not quite decent, but the bare streets of the town proved that this would not be common knowledge just yet. She would have thought it would continue to be, if not for silent Celia suddenly taking hold of her arm. "There's a man following us," she whispered in Etruscan. "He looks strong--ah, don't look at him!"
But Louise, piqued by curiosity, could do nothing more than to look over her shoulder. There was indeed a man not fifteen feet behind them, his dark blond hair short and his face clean-shaven. He walked like many an animal prowled; he had the presence of a well-trained beast who had dominated many others and knew of his own power and skill. He could not suppress this strength for the world, and Louise, who was herself a hunter--a human predator, one could call it--could see it as keenly as she could see her own footprints in the light dusting of snow in the road. But--and here was the thing--she did not feel immediately anxious in having sighted this man, for he looked quite familiar...
"Ah, it's Sir Nestor!" she cried out. To the sound of Celia's sudden exclamation, she hurried away from her dear friend and towards the man, the mercenary who had joined with Lord Pent on unnamed adventures she had not been able to attend after his return home. "Sir Nestor! How do you do?"
He looked at her with little expression on his face save some scarce bemusement. "Milady," he greeted with a slight bow.
She smiled. "Where are you going, Sir Nestor?" To this, he frowned.
"I'm not a knight."
"But you work with the castle guards, who are to a one considered knights. Also, Lord Pent depends upon you, which means he must think of your presence as that of a knight protecting his lord."
"I'm not a knight," he repeated patiently.
"Perhaps you should be knighted, then," Louise thought aloud. "I wonder if Lord Pent has the authority to do so. I should ask him."
Crossing his arms, Nestor stared at her. "Milady, why are you outside the castle?"
"I'm visiting a good friend of mine."
"I will come with."
Smiling, Louise said, "How wonderful! More company is always more fun! Shall we go, Sir Nestor? I have to get back in time to prepare for afternoon tea." Lord Pent's friend nodded at this, his expression more or less unchanged, and after collecting Celia from her spot they made their way down the snow-lined streets of the castle town. While the two of them were in front, Sir Nestor elected to walk behind him, something Louise could not help but smile at because of his obvious protectiveness.
She had met him before, the first time being when Lord Pent officially came home. It was a particularly balmy September day, and everywhere she went in Aquleia people spoke excitedly about the 'Reglay 45', those forty-five men who survived the Western Isles, of whom their leader was Lord Pent. Being that he was just eighteen, this feat of his was repeated again and again until he became one of the great heroes of the modern age--something which Louise was only too happy to hear. King Mordred himself had invited Lord Pent to the palace, and there was to be a parade in the streets to celebrate the return of the true Count Reglay--although, in his single letter to her, which had also included a personal invitation to the day's events, Lord Pent had mentioned that Baron Tilley was fighting to keep as the head of House Reglay and the title of count and it would take some time to dislodge those honors from the baron's grasp. Until then, Lord Pent would be staying in Aquleia, his townhouse having been untouched by the inheritance issues that plagued Reglay Castle due to the fact that it belonged to Lord Pent alone, having been purchased in his name by his father when Lord Pent began attending school in the capital.
The parade had been exciting, the brassy sound of trumpets filling the sky with triumphant songs, though she did not remember much more than that as she was too busy looking for Lord Pent to care. For all that, it was Lord Pent who found her first after the main parade ended, and, with a slight touch to her back, he led her to where some of his friends from the Western Isles were gathered. They called her 'the mysterious fiancée', teasing Lord Pent all the while. It was the first time she had ever seen him with people he cared for in some capacity, and she was glad to see it. When he had introduced her to Sir Nestor, the man had been so quiet and reserved that she had figured he did not care for her, but according to Lord Pent this was how he normally was around most people.
Later, after Lord Pent regained his title and his castle, he had written to let her know he was to go on a short journey to honor the last wish of a friend who had died at the Isles, and that she should not worry because Sir Nestor would be accompanying him. Louise did not worry, so happy she was that he had friends he could rely on, and only bade him to keep warm and hurry back as soon as his journey was completed. He had done so, taking no more than two weeks in total, and she supposed it was at that time he had brought back Sophie and her brother to work at the castle, though she did not think he did it as a mere favor to his fallen friend. No, Lord Pent liked to help people. It did also help him; Baron Tilley had fired all the help and installed his own from Tilley Manor, leaving the castle understaffed and many of the areas within suffered from the neglect. That was why it had taken so long for Lord Pent to feel comfortable in inviting her to the castle, although they did meet a few times in Aquleia and once in her own home.
After a few more winding streets, their little party found themselves in front of the Nachett home, which Louise remembered a little about during her extended stay in Reglay. It was a quaint house liberally covered in snow, and outside Madame Amy's pegasus, Hester, could be found trotting along freely with the younger son upon the saddle. Madame Amy herself was sitting on the doorstep with her swaddled eldest son at her knee, the former writing letters in the snow for the latter to interpret. At the sight of Sir Nestor, however, this son jumped to his feet and ran over to the good mercenary, begging to be taught swordplay, to which Sir Nestor assented with the barest hint of a smile. For her part, Madame Amy looked delighted to see them, rising to her feet with the help of a sturdy oaken cane.
"Lady Louise! I heard you were arriving today, but I didn't think you'd visit so soon!"
"I had to," Louise said, grinning all the while. "Letters simply aren't enough!"
Madame Amy nodded, accepting a hug from Louise before moving on to Celia. "Very true. It's nice to see you as well, Celia. Still taking care of your mistress?"
"Somebody has to," Celia agreed with a grave expression, one she couldn't hold once Louise gaped at her in incredulous dismay. "Oh, Lady Louise, you know I was joking!"
Louise pouted. "I know. But it's still true, isn't it?"
"Have you spent some time with your fiancé yet?" Madame Amy asked. To this, Louise could not help but gently worry at her bottom lip with her teeth, feeling like no more than a young girl when she was now becoming quite an old one.
"Not yet. He greeted us, but after he escorted Mother to our rooms he had to go back to work..."
"Ah, my husband's been complaining. 'Lord Pent's so unfocused! If he's going to fall apart like this, can't he do it after we finish up the ordinances?'"
"Falling apart?" Louise could not help but twist her lips in displeasure. "No, no, Lord Pent wouldn't, not as he is now. Before, he was more unfocused, but now it's as if he's come into focus."
"Hmm," Celia murmured. Madame Amy worked her fingers through her dark green hair, her expression thoughtful.
"He sounds like he was hazy before."
Shuffling her boots in the snow, Louise nodded. "Perhaps. But isn't that very impressive of him to change so much for the better? Of course, Lord Pent was wonderful already..."
"Of course," said Celia with a smile.
"Of course," said a grinning Madame Amy. Realizing that she was being teased, Louise ducked her head as her cheeks began to bear that familiar warmth of embarrassment.
"We should go back soon if you want to get ready for tea," Celia warned, and Louise knew it was true to a word; thus, she complied with a nod and turned to Madame Amy.
"Madame--"
"Just Amy, if you please. I may be working for you in the near future."
Louise shared a confused glance with Celia at this announcement. "Truly? As one of my maids?"
Amy--for she preferred it so--laughed at this. "As nursemaid to your future children, of course!"
"Wha-wha--I don't know...don't say such embarrassing things!"
In truth, it really was embarrassing to hear, but it also made Louise a little happy. That they could make these jokes and tease each other so, without fear of whatever the future would bring, was the most wonderful thing of all. Everything was quite all right.
All they had to do was look to the future.
-0-
Pent had hoped that, without saying anything, Louise would extend the day of her departure beyond the mere week she was staying at the castle, but as they whiled away the days in each other's company this was less and less probable. They took their meals together without exception, walked when the weather was fine and played chess--or, at least, he taught her how to play, as she seemed to find it a novel concept--when a storm blew in for two days. One night they even went to see a play in town, and he wasn't sure what to make of it when the audience applauded the two of them when they entered the theater to find their seats. But, for the most part, they were celebrating their birthdays in the manner he had hoped to two years ago, and there was not one part of it that he found disagreeable.
Well, there was one, but that was more the fault of his own nature.
Currently they were outside in one of the winter-stripped castle gardens, enjoying some fresh air during the lull between the bouts of snowstorms. His senses were strong enough to predict obvious trends in the weather, although he suspected that accurate prediction using the spirits in any situation was still years beyond him, but as he watched Louise toddle before him in more layers of clothing than was probably called for, he wasn't overly concerned about her health at the moment. The ends of her scarf fluttered behind her as she worked her way through the small drifts of snow that stood in her path, and then ceased to move as she bent down and began packing snow together between her gloved hands. He stopped and observed this action, interested and growing suspicious, especially when she glanced behind her and then quickly returned to her little project. By the time she rose, she held a good-sized snowball that she was doing a poor job of hiding with her somewhat less lithe body.
"I'll only warn you once," he called out, unable to hide the smile on his face. "Should you use that against me, I'm afraid I won't hesitate to retaliate with the force necessary to subdue you."
She dropped the snowball, amusement her primary expression. "Lord Pent, it's only a child's game!"
"Well," he said, intentionally lowering his voice, "I'm not a child."
"I know," she said with a laugh, "but it's fun to remember what it was like to be a child and play like this, don't you think?"
I wouldn't really know, Pent did not say. Instead he kept a slight smile on his face and let Louise do as she liked without further commentary, not willing to go further in the current topic of discussion. There was some confusion on her face before she turned and continued forward, and after a moment he began to follow her again.
Truth be told, he was feeling a little dissatisfied.
He was brooding about this feeling of being out-of-sorts when Louise's excited voice reached his ears. "Lord Pent, it's snowing!" she called. When he looked up, he found that it was indeed beginning to snow again. Any words he had to suggest returning inside died upon his tongue when he found Louise using her own to catch snowflakes with.
"Are you really seventeen?" he inquired, his tone perhaps a little more mocking than he had intended. She glanced at him, something unreadable in her expression before she smiled.
"I am. But catching snowflakes like this is so much fun!"
"What is so fun about it, if I may ask?"
She turned her face so that he was met with her profile, which looked oddly fragile in the moment. Light snowflakes were beginning to dot her clothes; the white on her gray cap and cloak made her appear almost aglow against the dark gray skies of the winter day. "I would always like to remember what it is like to be a child, even if I am no longer one. I don't want to lose that part of myself, the part in which I learned so much and enjoyed life so easily. Do you think it is a bit silly, Lord Pent?"
Quieted by her thoughtful answer, he shook his head. "Not in the least, Louise. You should always remain true to your feelings. That is one of the things I admire about you."
"Mn, then..." She turned a brilliant smile onto him. "You should do it too. No one else is out here."
"...It's fine. You can do it for me."
He said that, yet his dissatisfaction only increased as she followed his suggestion and turned away from him to play more of her game. Yes, part of it was an irrational feeling of being ignored, despite the fact that they spent so much time day in and day out since she had arrived, but another part was something a little more...carnal. It did not mean he had any wish to outrage her virtue or anything terrible as such, but there came a time when holding hands and the occasional hug were nice but inadequate.
Really, he just wanted to kiss her once before she left him again.
Clenching his hands, he wondered what exactly he should do. This was completely the fault of his own inexperience and timidity, but at the same time he simply couldn't tell what Louise would do should he make his move. Matters of sensuality seemed to be more her forte, but at the same time he wanted to take the lead in this.
Well, we are going to be married in a matter of months, he reasoned. It would be nice if we had some degree of comfort between us before consummating the union.
Even the thought of it left him feeling embarrassed, but he decided there was no time like the present and gestured for Louise to return to him. She did so with a smile so bright and innocent that he felt awkward without even touching her. He held out his hand while she hopped over piles of snow, but just before she reached out to take his hand he moved forward to catch her around the waist with his outstretched arm. Giggling at this, she moved closer to him, their bodies pressed together, not even the many layers of clothes they each wore dimming this novel effect. Louise's eyes were lowered so that it looked as though she were studying his coat, but he wondered if she was feeling too embarrassed to look up at him. Perhaps she was already at her limits when it came to physical contact.
"Louise," he whispered, promising himself that he would let her define the boundaries of their relationship; as a man, that was only the right thing to do. He only wanted to see her eyes looking up at him from such a close position--that could be enough, if that was what she wanted.
She looked up at him, a healthy blush darkening her pale complexion. He wondered if she was cold, even if her face looked hot. Glancing at her lips, he wondered if those were cold.
He wouldn't do anything she didn't want--this is what he believed of himself. Tentatively, he leaned in, then paused when he could just feel her soft breath against his own lips, but she seemed completely still in his hold.
Was that acceptance? A fear so overwhelming she couldn't move? He didn't know. He wanted to find out.
He kissed her.
Louise did not move, but he had to say that there was more than enough of an effect on him to make up for it; his heart seemed to jump in his chest with even that light press of his lips on hers. It was almost profound to realize how much feeling there was in his lips, as if humans were made for these simple intimacies, and all at once it was too much and not enough. He pulled away after what was possibly the longest moment in his life, wondering just what Louise thought of that--of him--now. "There," he breathed, the single word so quiet he wasn't sure she could even hear him, "I've caught you."
That was the stupidest thing he ever said, he immediately thought afterward. It was not only the stupidest thing he had ever said, it would be the worst he would ever utter in his life. He was certain of this, right until he felt Louise's hand on his shoulder.
"Oh, Lord Pent," she murmured, the soft susurrations against his lips almost too much to bear, "but you already have me."
Because self-deprecation was all he really had to rely on now, he whispered, "Then should I go catch snowflakes instead?" Her grip on his shoulder was an answer even he could recognize, because all he could do was chuckle at such a response. "Or, shall I kiss you again?"
Her answer wasn't audible, but he understood it well all the same.
-0-
Louise looked out the window at the falling snow and thanked God and the saint for this turn in her fortunes; with the snowfall having been consistent over the last few days, her return home had been delayed at least by a week even if it were to end tonight, for the roads would be difficult to travel for at least some days longer. To be allowed to stay within sight of Lord Pent for a week longer was a blessing she could not fail to give her gratitude for, and she made sure to give it often. These days, she spent so much time beside Lord Pent that it would be a most reproachable failure otherwise. She could feel the steady onslaught of heat as it assailed her face at the thought of the time she spent with Lord Pent, her fingers finding each other and twisting in the manifestation of her girlish glee as she lowered her gaze from the window to the soft folds of her cashmere mantle, which was a frosty white and lined with intricate patterns in gold thread from the collar down the front --a gift from her father in celebration of her most recent birthday. The dress she wore under it was made of more common material, the skirts of her cotton dress crinkling in long, elegant pleats of pale blue. And, because Lord Pent had expressed a liking for it, she wore her long hair down, though Celia had insisted on putting a wave through it and pinning up those locks that curled around the sides of her face. Soon enough she would leave for another meeting with Lord Pent, if only she could regain her composure in time...
Scented droplets assaulted her in a single spray from one of her mother's perfumes, and Louise gasped in shock before she turned to face her assailant--her dearest friend Celia! "What are you doing?" she exclaimed, still fully rooted in her surprise.
"I am helping you prepare for your rendezvous," Celia replied, her choice of weapon still in her hands. "This scent is the most becoming of all those your mother brought with her, and it'll easily air out."
Louise sniffed at the air; a light, subtle aroma greeted her nose, flowery without being overpowering, all feminine mystique . "It isn't rose, is it?" Celia smiled at this.
"You're still poor at identifying scents. It's lavender, lily of the valley, camellia, and white plum."
"How incredible...you know so much," Louise murmured in awe, or at least, until Celia flipped the perfume decanter so that a label could clearly be seen by Louise's excellent eyes.
"It's easier with this," Celia said with a smile. To this, Louise pouted. "Oh, come now, you didn't really think I knew all that, did you?"
"But you know everything," Louise responded, "like what colors suit me best, how to apply makeup and prepare my hair, how to mend clothes and wash them so that the material comes out just as nicely whether it is cotton or velvet, how to tie my corset just so that it becomes first an instrument of support rather than a device to unnaturally shape my body, and..."
"Please, enough. I really am suited to only be a maid, it seems," Celia said, a sad look crossing her face but briefly, yet it was too much for Louise to bear. She reached for her wonderful friend's hands, smiling as comfortingly as she could.
"No, first you are my sister, then you are anything you wish to be."
Celia paused for a moment, then shook her head, loose strands of her strawberry-blond braid shaking to and fro. "Lady Louise, you're going to be late. I don't know where you and Lord Pent will go to, but please remember to be careful."
"Careful?" Louise repeated, somewhat confused. "Careful in what? We're not doing anything harmful."
Bowing her head, Celia mumbled, "Nevertheless, you should understand the position you're in right now and take heed of it. The holy saint will forgive you, but at this level I'm not sure your father and lord mother will take things as lightly..."
Louise stared at the crown of her friend's head for a moment, then slowly backed away as a dim light of realization began to glow inside her mind. "T-that's...I wouldn't...Lord Pent would never..."
"I understand," Celia said with a certain amount of force behind her words, "I am not accusing you of anything. We have shared the same firm education by the hands of your mother and Lisette in these matters, and Lord Pent is an upstanding man who has never shown to do anything less than the honorable thing. But, as your soeur du coeur, I can see the changes upon you as your intimacy with him grows, and as the elder of us two I only want you to understand that I care for you enough to warn you, even though it is not necessary. Do you see that, Lady Louise?"
"...I do, Celia, and I see how much sisterly concern you hold for me and I love you all the more for it. Only...although you say you can see this change, you cannot really understand it." Moving towards Celia, she stopped just before her life's greatest friend. "Would it be so terrible to speak from your experience of your heart, rather than your experience with mine?"
For a moment, Celia said nothing, her gaze forward and unwavering. It was when she turned her head to the side that Louise understood that something had been lost here today, that their paths were truly meant to veer away from the other. "I know of his feelings and I am flattered, but I don't find him equal to what I want in my life. My hopes and dreams...these things are my life. If his wants should prove to be the master of mine, then that must mean I myself am nothing. Could you understand that?"
Louise had no response. Celia continued. "I don't really think you can, because it takes root from something before our meeting on that road. For you, to love is to live, and your greatest satisfaction will come from submerging in the love of your family. It will transform you...it has already transformed you. Yet, for me, love is a companion, but it is not the whole of me. That's why our paths must eventually separate. Dear Louise, can you understand that?"
Seventeen years of age, and yet Louise, try as she might, could not do as her sister of her heart bade of her. Instead, she redirected herself so that she was headed towards the door. But, before she could leave, she paused by the door frame and said, "I could, if you want me to. But I cannot say that I like it."
"I don't like it either," Celia said with a certain simpleness that indicated she felt the conversation was over, and Louise agreed, walking into the hallway and down the paths that would lead to Lord Pent's personal library. She willed herself to not think about Celia's words, but she still couldn't help but remember her dear friend's warnings, and her heart trembled for it. It was true that she had reached a deeper intimacy with Lord Pent, and it was true that she had no interest in furthering it for the time being...
How true?
Her steps faltered, a hand pressed to her chest. She did not like the question, never mind that it came from her own mind. Who would like a question that was both interrogation and a mirror to her own heart?
She liked it, but to her eyes that was no problem. Perhaps the deeper problem was that she had no fear of the feelings that arose as she enjoyed the deepening intimacy between herself and Lord Pent.
Was that truly so terrible?
Her mood dampened, she arrived at the library and pushed open the slightly ajar door. "Lord Pent?"
"I'm here," he called from further within the room, emerging from the very last row behind a great shelf loaded with tomes. With his welcoming smile and the way longer strands of his light bluish-gray hair fell across his face, Louise was reminded again, as she always was, at how much he had matured from the young man she had met almost three years ago. In those days, he had been so restrained that it had seemed as though he were unaffected, still unsure of his role in his own life. Of course, she had known that the real Lord Pent was a good and kind man, a wonderful person who only needed to be reached out by others in order to learn how to reach out to them in turn.
Hadn't he, in the end? If he hadn't tried to send his feelings to her, they would not have this now.
"Are you researching for your new paper?" she asked as she approached him, noticing the book he held in his hand. He nodded, showing her the cover, which read A History of Symbology: The Simplification of the Modern Anima Sigil.
"It's actually quite interesting," he told her. "I thought at first that I might like to work on a thesis that could be related to my own growth in ability from warfare, but to be honest something more academic might be preferable at this point. It will be much harder for me to publish since I've been away for so long."
She clapped her hands together, delighted at the news. The look Lord Pent had on his face whenever he was fully engaged in his studies was always quite attractive in how focused he was; she had seen it quite often whenever he discussed possible topics to explore during the last week or tried to explain a magical concept to her. In her mind, she thought he could be quite the capable teacher.
"Would you like to read the draft when I'm done?" he asked, his expression open and full of a singular pleasure; she suspected he was happy that she was so interested in what he loved.
"Yes, I would be happy to if it helps," she said. "But I don't know very much about magic. Will that be all right?"
He nodded. "It will be fine. I would actually prefer that, since I want to see how much you can understand the paper."
"For my sake as your pupil?" she asked with a wide smile. His lips curled into a slight smirk at that, and with the way his shortened hair framed his face and highlighted the glint of amusement in his eyes Louise felt herself warm at the sight.
"No, I thought I would like to be easily understood, whether by accomplished mages or by someone with no considerable knowledge of the subject." There was a pensive expression on his face for a brief moment before he gestured for her to come closer. "Here, I'd like your help. Come closer."
She bit her bottom lip at the command, hiding her face as best she could with her hair despite her short bangs and tied up locks. "Of course," she said as she joined him in the alcove. Surrounded by bookshelves in every way but directly behind her, there was an impending pressure of anticipation that echoed the beat of her heart as she ran her hands down her skirts and surreptitiously adjusted the bottom hem so that it was hidden behind the shelf that blocked them from the door. Next to her, Lord Pent was putting back the book he had been holding; as soon as he tended to that, he turned to her, one hand reaching out to cup her face with the utmost gentleness. A trill ran through her, knowing that he had remembered that she had told him the day before that she had liked that--in the time he had been away, he had developed a coarseness to his hands that, while it did not compare to the callouses she had developed through archery practice, somehow felt pleasant against her skin. These were a man's hands...
"Don't look down," he said, his voice hushed. "Please."
She hadn't even realized she had lowered her face; when she raised her eyes she found an unexpectedly serious look there, his countenance shrouded by something reflected in his eyes that was as fragile as gossamer. It was impossible to look away from him, even as he lowered his face towards hers, and it was only when his lips met hers that she let her eyes close. Something trembled within her as she savored the kiss, as if she were on a beach and in the ocean ahead of her hid deep secrets of her impending womanhood, all the mysteries and pleasures for the taking if she only stepped forward and let herself drown in the feelings Lord Pent caused within her.
Ah--but no, not yet. This was the thing Celia warned her about, the thing that she and Lord Pent were consciously avoiding. There was no need to go forward; wouldn't it be wonderful enough to explore their current location?
There was none of that at the current moment, however, as he pulled away from her. How her face tingled with heat as his light exhale brushed against her parted lips! Had he moved even further away to look at her she would have hidden her face, no matter his request to the contrary, but he elected to remain at a distance that truly wasn't. "Louise," he murmured, each syllable of her name ghosting against her lips as though they were brief kisses all on their own, "are you wearing perfume?"
"I-I am." She smiled, hesitant to whisper her next words, but wanting to all the same. "Do you like it?"
"I think I do. May I?"
The proper and ladylike thing to do in this situation would be to back up and offer him her wrist to sniff, though Celia hadn't applied any there, but Louise was feeling the very word Amy had spoken of over a week ago, hazy, and more than that, a bit of boldness seemed to inject itself into her in her inebriated state. "You may," she replied quietly, closing her eyes as she lifted her head up, not wanting to see the look on his face at this brazen act. As his hand still laid on her cheek she could feel the current of surprise rush through it as if he had been jolted by such temerity, but then she heard him hum a little in response before he moved forward. She could not help but move back at this, her back against the numerous spines of old tomes that lined the shelves of the bookcase behind her, but she took little notice of that when she realized that she could feel the dim sensation of his breath against her neck, still shielded by the collar of her mantle.
Perhaps he found himself hindered, too, for she heard him whisper into her ear, "May I take this off?"
"Ah..." However bold she had thought herself to be, she never would have expected to find her match in Lord Pent! Once she calmed herself down to understand that he only meant the mantle, she swallowed as she nodded, feeling as though the sound carried impossibly loud between them. His fingers were at her throat before she knew it, nudging buttons out of little loops with a dexterity she never would have imagined from him. Her eyes were still tightly closed, so she could feel instead of observe with her own eyes how he folded the collar down, exposing her bare neck--the collar of this dress was in fashion and only went as high as the bottom curve of the connection between shoulder and neck. There, she could feel his breath as it returned to the side of her neck; she could feel just as much as hear him inhale the scent of the borrowed perfume; she could feel it as his lips lightly pressed themselves against the side of her neck.
She went rigid and he paused, his lips removed from her neck just so. It did not help the situation, for she could still feel his breath against her skin and how she warmed more and more with each exhale. Finally, though she felt herself quickly reaching that point where her nervousness would outweigh the nascent pleasure of this exploratory play, she reached up with her left hand to touch what she hoped was the curve of his shoulder. He seemed to understand this action as her reassurance and pressed his lips to her neck again, kissing it with unbearable tenderness. Rubbing his shoulder for want of something to do with that hand while her other was pressed flat against the books, she turned her head a little more to give him that much more access, smiling in ticklish pleasure as he quickly took advantage of this, first by peppering up and down the length of her neck with small kisses, then by pressing his lips with more fervor. Had she not already closed her eyes out of embarrassment she would have already by the niceness of the feelings he was giving her, she knew it.
Then--perhaps it was a little too nice as he parted his lips and nipped just so, giving her a shock she was sure she would not soon forget. Her occupied hand clenched his shoulder but she did nothing more, and after a moment's pause he began to incorporate this to his strategy. Were he not taking an extended leave from the military to attend to his own affairs she would have thought he was thinking with a tactician's mind. The hand he had used to cup her face was now in her hair, and his fingertips against her scalp was quite the pleasant diversion, or perhaps it enhanced the feelings that now coursed through her, she could hardly think enough to analyze it. His tongue made a languid sweep from a certain spot he had found to his liking and that was it, that was more than she could have ever expected to handle, as her entire body seemed to react as though every nerve she possessed lay claim to that one spot of her neck.
"Lord Pent," she breathed with a certain sense of urgency. She did expect that he would stop were she to speak up, but she did not expect him to do it so suddenly, as though he had been frozen on the spot. Luckily for her all-too-sensitive nerves, he raised himself from her in one swift movement and she opened her eyes to find that there was a shine to his eyes that she had never seen before.
"Louise, my name..." He seemed to pause, as though he rethought his words and found them lacking for the moment, then he shook his head. "No, it's nothing."
Her hand was still on his shoulder, but now she felt it would be too obvious if she removed it. That, and she rather liked touching him and it was incoccous enough. "What is it?" she asked, concerned.
"It's nothing," he repeated, his hand once again stroking her face. "What about you? Did I do something wrong?"
"Ah, not exactly, I liked it, I..." She turned away from his expectant look. "I...liked it too much, I think..."
A noise came from him that sounded suspiciously like a muffled laugh, but when she glanced at him his face held the most innocent expression. "All right, I won't do that. But..." He paused, his thumb near the corner of her mouth "May I kiss you again?"
She smiled, happiness and something else coiling within her. "Please do," she murmured, closing her eyes as his face neared hers again. "Please..."
Every time they kissed, it was as though Louise learned something new, whether it was about herself or him. For instance, as her hand roamed from his shoulder to his neck, she found that he seemed to appreciate her touch as he deepened the kiss even faster than he had the last time. In response, she brought her other hand to bear as she placed it on his side, then his back, as she became further and further enraptured by the garden of delights that was this embrace, all the while her left hand, the original instigator, traveled peaceably from his neck to his hair, clipped shorter than the length he had carried on the island but not too short, and she thought wickedly that he might appreciate the sensation of her fingers along his scalp just as much as she enjoyed the same from him. His response was so nice as he pressed even closer to her that she just had to do it again and again, now completely enthralled by the physical and emotional sensations that followed this dance of action and reaction between them until neither knew what the original cause was. All she knew was that this was a happiness that she wanted more of, for once she returned home there would only be short trips to Reglay until the eve of the wedding itself.
No, no, no! Let her have this moment for as long as she wanted, in this sweet time where her exploration had clear limits that encouraged rather than discouraged her. Let her have this in the period between childhood and adulthood, one where she knew too little to act and the other where she was expected to burden herself with the weight of known experiences--let her have a time when she was just childlike enough that all this could be blissfully new while she was adult enough to take advantage of what she had. She was just aware enough to know that all families desired a hearth, so allow them to stoke this heat. Let them--
"Lord Pent," she gasped as they separated, "are you enjoying this? Am I--" Her words were swallowed up by his forceful kiss, and when he released her she was too disappointed by the relative quickness to remember what more she had to ask.
"Yes," he breathed against her lips. "You've always made me happy." And now it was her turn to kiss him, and--
The creaking sound of the door opening was unmistakable; the sound of heavy heeled boots sounding on the stone floor with a confident, casual stroll was downright frightening, as Louise only knew one woman who could think to walk in such a way in the castle. She pushed Lord Pent away, but by his wide eyes he had already heard the intruder and made his own assumptions. "Your mother?" he mouthed, and she frantically nodded, doing up her buttons on her mantle with a speed that she had thought beyond her small fingers. He looked one way, then another, before he grabbed the book he had shown her before from its spot and reached out with his free hand for one of hers. Before she could think to ask him what he was doing, he had already begun to walk around the bookshelf that had sequestered them from the library at large--though, it was really a small one.
"Oh, Lady Catherine. Good day," he greeted her mother, and if Louise hadn't spent a good part of the day with him she never would have thought he had been so pleasurably engaged with her earlier.
Her mother, who had an open book in front of her, looked up at Lord Pent with surprise clear on her face. "Lord Pent? Louise? I hadn't thought there was anyone here."
"Yes, actually, I was doing research for my new paper. It's to be a look at arcane symbology from The Scouring onward and expostulates what this has done to anima magic in terms of linguistic mutations and such. It's quite fascinating, I find."
"Yes, well, I'll leave you to that," her mother said with just an arched eyebrow for effect. Her mother glanced in her direction and instantly frowned. "Hm? Louise, come closer."
Unlike Lord Pent's request for the same, Louise very much did not want to obey this one, but with Lord Pent's hand in her own offering comfort (and perhaps assistance for a quick escape, should it be necessary), Louise did as she was told. Her mother aimed narrowed lavender eyes at her as her mother's mood seemed to darken, then with a quick movement she found her mother's hand grasping her chin. "Girl, what have I told you about asking others permission before using their things?"
Louise could only offer a surprised squeak that much changed her normal voice. "Huh?"
"My perfume," her mother enunciated. Louise nodded, somewhat frantic.
"Forgive me, Mother. It smelled so nice that I wanted to wear it and forgot to ask you first."
"Well, it's the wont of the young woman to hold to selfishness before all else," her mother huffed before releasing her. "Go on, you've put me in a mood."
"Y-yes, I'm terribly sorry..." With a penitent nod, she followed Lord Pent out of the room. Once they were beyond the door and some distance away, she could not help herself: she began to giggle. After a moment, Lord Pent's quiet chuckle joined her before they began to walk again.
Their destination was unknown, but Louise thought it was fine; they were together, and that made all the difference.
-end-
Series: Fire Emblem 7: Rekka no Ken/The Blazing Sword
Rating: PG
Genre: Friendship/Romance
Characters: Pent/Louise
(C) Intelligent Systems and Nintendo
Note the First: I use this and this other site for my Victorian flower translations. The second is more thorough than the first.
Summary: Pent and Louise enjoy being together again.
Firewood for Winter: Jonaquil, Fleur-de-lis
(i burn with affection returned)
It was good to be home again, Pent reflected as he admired his office, which had finally been returned to its original condition from before House Tilley invaded his ancestral home. When they had finally vacated the premises in October, it was discovered that a number of rooms, including his office and bedroom, had fallen into considerable disrepair, the sort that did not happen by any natural means of mere abandonment. Once he had rehired all the old servants as well as some new ones to take care of the mess, he had spent the majority of his time in Aquleia working in his family townhouse alongside Raike and the rest of Castle Reglay's law clerks as they all tried to make sense of the financial and legal incursions made during his 'death'; the king had been adamant that he wanted full records, as he would be basing his decision whether to strip Baron Tilley of his noble powers.
By no means did the baron leave with any sense of grace in regards to any bit of Reglay, house or castle--it was already February and there were still questions on certain sums of money. Pent was tempted to hand over what had already been completed and request that the king's retainers do the rest, but this sort of work made him feel more like a count; that is, it was a very different life compared to the rigors of the time he had spent on the Western Isles, and with each successful task in this new--old--life he remembered a little more the purpose he had been born into.
Lord Pent, Count Reglay. He remembered a time when he had wanted to do nothing more than to deny his birthright.
"Lord Pent," Raike called as he entered the room, a stack of papers in his arms, "here are the license renewals for each of the wineries. I've also had a few clerks research any influxes in their records over the past year for the sake of a more thorough review."
Glancing behind him, where the large windows stood in all their full glory, Pent studied the road that led to the castle proper. Other than a few guards, there was nothing of interest. "Well then," he said as he turned away and approached his desk, placing a hand on the back of his chair as he looked at the papers Raike was now putting down and separating, "did you find anything particularly suspicious? We'll look at those first."
Raike looked up from his task with a slight smile on his face, his complexion clear of the blotches that told his emotions better than his expressions ever could. "Very good, milord. Actually, I did find some oddities in the records of Rhine Wineries. Now, if you'll take a seat, I'll go over the basic points..."
As they began to pore over the pages and pages of notes regarding each of Reglay County's vineyards and wineries, Pent studied the man before him. He had never doubted Raike's loyalty--had never really thought about it one way or another, in all honesty--but it had still been a surprise to find Raike loitering in front of the palace after Pent had been welcomed back in early September, though his legal status was still in murky waters.
"Raike? What are you doing here?"
"I've been waiting here for you. I was sent here by Count Caerleon to run a number of errands, and I heard that you came to the palace on a daily basis. If I may, I would like to ask you a question."
"Yes?"
"What do you intend to do now?"
"After my title is returned to me, I would like to establish a number of reforms to Reglay."
"So you will be challenging the baron? I see. Then please, allow me to assist you as your clerk again."
"Why not as my steward?"
"...Well, my wife will only allow it if you give me a raise."
"That's fine. Once you've settled your affairs with Count Caerleon, return here and we'll work on the legalities before us."
"Lord Pent?"
His reverie interrupted, Pent merely blinked. "Yes?"
"If you're going to daydream, can you not stare at me while you do so?" Raike insisted, the darkening blotches on his cheeks betraying his bland expression. Pent smiled slightly as he shifted his gaze to the wall on his left.
"Pardon me."
"You really should focus, though. I thought you wanted to finish everything before Lady Louise arrived?"
Pent knew he grimaced a little in response, because Raike was giving him something of a sympathetic look when he looked at his steward out of the corner of his eye. Raising his head from his hand, he straightened his posture and picked up his pen. Yet, instead of continuing the arduous task of signing his name on the ordinances before him, Pent asked, "Why did you find me in Aquleia?"
Raike looked at him, then past him. "Reglay is my home. I was only able to go to university in Aquleia thanks to your father's kindness. My parents lived and worked here all their lives, my sons were born here, and my father is buried here. I didn't intend to leave in the first place, and while Caerleon is nice, the count there is far more concerned with his family than his county. I want to serve a lord who isn't just satisfied with maintaining the status quo but builds upon it and improves his lands for everyone."
"I don't know if I can match your expectations," Pent answered with complete honesty. To this, Raike smiled.
"It's enough that you try. I don't want Etruria to grow stagnant. I want--"
There was a knock at the door, and both men looked at it. From the other side, a maid's voice could be heard. "Milord, her carriage has arrived. What would you like us to do?"
His heart seemed to leap uncomfortably high as Pent rose from his seat with a speed that quite frankly surprised himself, turning towards the large windows behind his desk. There, amongst the white fields and the single gray road, was the dark color of a carriage. Despite himself, he grinned before turning to Raike. "Forgive me," he started, "but I'll leave the rest to you."
"Wha--Lord Pent, I might like to see her too! Do you see how much you've left me?" But Pent was already sweeping past the grand desk and all its piles of paperwork for the door, which he opened with such quickness that the maid on the other side gasped in surprise. He nodded at her.
"If all the preparations are complete, then please feel free to do as you like."
His order given, Pent left for the foyer of the castle, down the stairs and out the front door, past all the servants rushing to and fro and kicking up dustings of the shallow snow that was ever present in the winter, advancing all the while towards the dark carriage and its mere two horses that were even now being unlatched by the stablemen. The cold air was refreshing considering how fast he had moved, but it could not calm the speed of his beating heart nor completely cool the warmth that suffused his cheeks.
The carriage door opened, and Louise, skirts and cloak and cute little cap and all, departed from the vehicle with an unladylike hop. He could only focus on her wide grin as she rushed towards him, and he had to admit his utmost surprise when she failed to stop and instead bounded right into him with a leap that was possibly gravity-defying considering the weight of her clothes. It was only with reflexes he had been forced to develop during his long time away that allowed him to catch her in his arms as she collided with him with a squeal of unmistakable delight issuing from her lips. He only gasped at the suddenly reality of her, weight and touch and her.
Then her arms went around his waist in the tightest embrace he had ever experienced in all his nineteen years of life, and he found he could not want anything more.
Not even the ticklish feeling he received from the fur of her cap along his jawline caused him to move away from her; it was when he heard a woman's cough that he opened his eyes and stared straight into Lady Catherine's eyes, so similar to her daughter's that he jolted involuntarily. Then he carefully disengaged himself from Louise just in case of reprisal, even though there was a smile playing along the woman's painted lips. Louise only gave a little giggle, perhaps out of nervousness, when she turned around and found her mother there.
"You're quite the elegant lady, aren't you?" Lady Catherine said with no ire. He did not feel it was an entirely unconscious reaction when he shifted his weight slightly, as if he could dodge any sharp barbs she aimed in his direction. "And as for you, Lord Pent, I would greatly appreciate being escorted to our rooms at your earliest convenience."
Quickly he offered his elbow to her. "Then we shall go now, if you like."
"Ah, I really only meant for a servant. No need to overextend yourself."
"This is the least I can do for you, Lady Catherine," he replied. Turning to Louise, he held out his free hand. "Louise?"
Smiling, Louise reached for his hand, but she stopped when her mother said, "Louise, won't you assist Celia and Lisette? I recall how distracted Lisette gets around snowy environs. They remind her too much of her childhood days up north."
"Oh, of course, Mother." Briefly, she grinned at Pent. "Thank you for your kindness. Will we meet at afternoon tea?"
He rarely had proper teatimes, not even once he returned to Reglay as its master; food had been rationed carefully at Fibernia, and he had grown too accustomed to that practice to overcome its hold on him now. "Of course. I'll see you then," he said, because guests dictated the itinerary in Etrurian culture and he could never deny Louise her pleasures. And anyway, her bright smile was more than enough of a reward for his capitulation.
Lady Catherine took hold of his elbow, and after they had reached the foyer in comfortable silence she turned to him with something of a smile--something, as it did not seem to come from a completely joyous frame of mind. "Yes, it's true this is the least you can do for me, isn't it? I am going to be your mother-in-law now, you realize."
"Yes, that is true," he answered, caution establishing itself in the face of her smirk. "It's an honor. I hope you won't mind having someone like me as your son."
"Let's hope not," she said with an odd cheerfulness that did not match her narrowed eyes or deepening smirk. "Now, my daughter is seventeen and I understand that a certain amount of lenience is necessary considering your unique circumstances, but if you would like me to keep to your library and not being a particularly attentive mother, you should listen well to my rules...keep walking, dear, and please try not to look so faint. I don't think I would like anyone to interrupt our talk. Wouldn't you agree, Lord Pent?"
With a forced smile, Pent said, "And here I had thought the worst was behind me now that I've returned." To this, Lady Catherine only laughed before looking forward.
"Oh, Lord Pent, you really are quite cute. Now, keep walking and listen well, won't you?"
-0-
It had been too long since Louise had returned to Castle Reglay; perhaps that was why the atmosphere of the place was much improved from the days when she sought to help Lord Pent. Before, she had remembered it as a cold place, not a home (never a home) but rather a place where Lord Pent lived and his servants worked. Now, as she watched the maids assigned to her perform their duties with a sort of pleasure she had only evinced from Celia, Lisette, and Ellie back home, she wondered if Lord Pent's arrival after his false death and his time away had not fully awakened the hearts of those who worked here to a love for their duties under the true master of Castle Reglay.
"Lady Louise, is everything to your liking?" asked one of the maids, a sweet brunette named Sophie who was perhaps a year or two younger than Louise herself. She had chattered as pleasantly as a small songbird while helping Celia store Louise's dresses and undergarments, much to the delight of Louise--how wonderful it would be to finally make a friend among the maids of the castle, especially after the tulmultous scenes of her very earliest time in the castle two years before?
"Everything's wonderful, Sophie," Louise said with a smile. "Have you been working here for long?"
Sophie laughed, brushing her hands on her white apron. "No, I'm new! Milord brought me and my brother Alex here after he visited my house."
It seemed as if two strings tied themselves together in Louise's mind as she realized something. "Oh! Was this when Lord Pent went to western Etruria after he regained his title?"
"I don't know anything about that..." Sophie said with a soft pout of confusion. "He came with this other man, a strong-looking mercenary, to tell us what happened to Thomas, and then he offered a place to stay and work for any of us who wanted it. Poppa and Mom and Grandpa didn't want to go anywhere, and Donny's too young and Rachel's already married, but me and Alex thought it was our turn to work for the family. You know, Thomas had been taking care of us for years and that's how he got into trouble, so..." Laughing with a softness that seemed too fragile to bear the weight of her experiences, Sophie looked away from Louise. "Sorry, milady doesn't want to hear this."
"You shouldn't say that. Lady Louise loves to listen to everyone," Celia said, pausing as she looked at her handiwork, fine dresses all in a row from the softest pink to the purest white to the richest burgundy. Louise nodded with a vigor that was common to her daily conversations with others.
"Yes, absolutely! I want to learn more about you and where you came from, Sophie! We should become great friends!"
Sophie stared at her with wide hazel eyes. "Friends...with the count's bride?"
Even the thought of it had Louise blazing from chest to forehead; a mention such as this made her instinctively hide her face in her hands. "I-i-it's not quite yet...n-not until May..." The laughter that penetrated her ears was the sound of sweet Celia's lovely voice, the hands on her wrists belonging to that same fair creature; yet, Louise could not help but resist when her dearest friend tried to pry her hands from her face. It was never in doubt who would win that particular battle, as when Celia had a mind to do something it was always done with time to spare.
"Come, come, some fresh air will do you good and calm that fierce color on your face." Louise struggled as Celia hauled her to her feet.
"But I'm having tea with Lord Pent soon!"
"Wouldn't you like to visit Madame Amy, if only for a bit?"
Louise hesitated, and that made it all the more easier for Celia to pull her towards the door. "Y-yes...but what about my outfit for tea?"
"Sophie!" Celia called. "Take out the light pink dress with the white lace and a white slip to match, as well as the magenta leggings and the dark flats and the white indoor cape, and lay them out on the bed. I'll show you how to prepare her once we get back."
"But--"
With one elegant movement of her finger, Celia silenced her excuses. "Let's go see Madame Amy, shall we? You two have been penning missives to each other since the spring, so certainly it's your duty now to pay her a visit at first chance. Correct?"
It was true, wonderfully true. Louise lowered her head in a demure attempt to hide her smile. "Thank you, Celia," she murmured. "You always know what's best for me."
"I didn't think going to your lord grandfather would be for the best, but you proved me wrong," Celia replied as they headed towards the grand staircase to the castle foyer. Louise hesitated, knowing well that the topic that wanted nothing more than to burst from her lips was one that they were in contention over.
"Then...if I am at least a little successful in these things, won't you stay with me a little longer?"
They left the castle and traveled down the road to the gates which led to the castle town itself, the crisp February air stinging Louise's cheeks. Belatedly she remembered that her sturdy fur-trimmed cloak had long been discarded in the grand room that was to be her own for the duration of her week-long stay at the castle, leaving her in her dress and that alone. It was not quite decent, but the bare streets of the town proved that this would not be common knowledge just yet. She would have thought it would continue to be, if not for silent Celia suddenly taking hold of her arm. "There's a man following us," she whispered in Etruscan. "He looks strong--ah, don't look at him!"
But Louise, piqued by curiosity, could do nothing more than to look over her shoulder. There was indeed a man not fifteen feet behind them, his dark blond hair short and his face clean-shaven. He walked like many an animal prowled; he had the presence of a well-trained beast who had dominated many others and knew of his own power and skill. He could not suppress this strength for the world, and Louise, who was herself a hunter--a human predator, one could call it--could see it as keenly as she could see her own footprints in the light dusting of snow in the road. But--and here was the thing--she did not feel immediately anxious in having sighted this man, for he looked quite familiar...
"Ah, it's Sir Nestor!" she cried out. To the sound of Celia's sudden exclamation, she hurried away from her dear friend and towards the man, the mercenary who had joined with Lord Pent on unnamed adventures she had not been able to attend after his return home. "Sir Nestor! How do you do?"
He looked at her with little expression on his face save some scarce bemusement. "Milady," he greeted with a slight bow.
She smiled. "Where are you going, Sir Nestor?" To this, he frowned.
"I'm not a knight."
"But you work with the castle guards, who are to a one considered knights. Also, Lord Pent depends upon you, which means he must think of your presence as that of a knight protecting his lord."
"I'm not a knight," he repeated patiently.
"Perhaps you should be knighted, then," Louise thought aloud. "I wonder if Lord Pent has the authority to do so. I should ask him."
Crossing his arms, Nestor stared at her. "Milady, why are you outside the castle?"
"I'm visiting a good friend of mine."
"I will come with."
Smiling, Louise said, "How wonderful! More company is always more fun! Shall we go, Sir Nestor? I have to get back in time to prepare for afternoon tea." Lord Pent's friend nodded at this, his expression more or less unchanged, and after collecting Celia from her spot they made their way down the snow-lined streets of the castle town. While the two of them were in front, Sir Nestor elected to walk behind him, something Louise could not help but smile at because of his obvious protectiveness.
She had met him before, the first time being when Lord Pent officially came home. It was a particularly balmy September day, and everywhere she went in Aquleia people spoke excitedly about the 'Reglay 45', those forty-five men who survived the Western Isles, of whom their leader was Lord Pent. Being that he was just eighteen, this feat of his was repeated again and again until he became one of the great heroes of the modern age--something which Louise was only too happy to hear. King Mordred himself had invited Lord Pent to the palace, and there was to be a parade in the streets to celebrate the return of the true Count Reglay--although, in his single letter to her, which had also included a personal invitation to the day's events, Lord Pent had mentioned that Baron Tilley was fighting to keep as the head of House Reglay and the title of count and it would take some time to dislodge those honors from the baron's grasp. Until then, Lord Pent would be staying in Aquleia, his townhouse having been untouched by the inheritance issues that plagued Reglay Castle due to the fact that it belonged to Lord Pent alone, having been purchased in his name by his father when Lord Pent began attending school in the capital.
The parade had been exciting, the brassy sound of trumpets filling the sky with triumphant songs, though she did not remember much more than that as she was too busy looking for Lord Pent to care. For all that, it was Lord Pent who found her first after the main parade ended, and, with a slight touch to her back, he led her to where some of his friends from the Western Isles were gathered. They called her 'the mysterious fiancée', teasing Lord Pent all the while. It was the first time she had ever seen him with people he cared for in some capacity, and she was glad to see it. When he had introduced her to Sir Nestor, the man had been so quiet and reserved that she had figured he did not care for her, but according to Lord Pent this was how he normally was around most people.
Later, after Lord Pent regained his title and his castle, he had written to let her know he was to go on a short journey to honor the last wish of a friend who had died at the Isles, and that she should not worry because Sir Nestor would be accompanying him. Louise did not worry, so happy she was that he had friends he could rely on, and only bade him to keep warm and hurry back as soon as his journey was completed. He had done so, taking no more than two weeks in total, and she supposed it was at that time he had brought back Sophie and her brother to work at the castle, though she did not think he did it as a mere favor to his fallen friend. No, Lord Pent liked to help people. It did also help him; Baron Tilley had fired all the help and installed his own from Tilley Manor, leaving the castle understaffed and many of the areas within suffered from the neglect. That was why it had taken so long for Lord Pent to feel comfortable in inviting her to the castle, although they did meet a few times in Aquleia and once in her own home.
After a few more winding streets, their little party found themselves in front of the Nachett home, which Louise remembered a little about during her extended stay in Reglay. It was a quaint house liberally covered in snow, and outside Madame Amy's pegasus, Hester, could be found trotting along freely with the younger son upon the saddle. Madame Amy herself was sitting on the doorstep with her swaddled eldest son at her knee, the former writing letters in the snow for the latter to interpret. At the sight of Sir Nestor, however, this son jumped to his feet and ran over to the good mercenary, begging to be taught swordplay, to which Sir Nestor assented with the barest hint of a smile. For her part, Madame Amy looked delighted to see them, rising to her feet with the help of a sturdy oaken cane.
"Lady Louise! I heard you were arriving today, but I didn't think you'd visit so soon!"
"I had to," Louise said, grinning all the while. "Letters simply aren't enough!"
Madame Amy nodded, accepting a hug from Louise before moving on to Celia. "Very true. It's nice to see you as well, Celia. Still taking care of your mistress?"
"Somebody has to," Celia agreed with a grave expression, one she couldn't hold once Louise gaped at her in incredulous dismay. "Oh, Lady Louise, you know I was joking!"
Louise pouted. "I know. But it's still true, isn't it?"
"Have you spent some time with your fiancé yet?" Madame Amy asked. To this, Louise could not help but gently worry at her bottom lip with her teeth, feeling like no more than a young girl when she was now becoming quite an old one.
"Not yet. He greeted us, but after he escorted Mother to our rooms he had to go back to work..."
"Ah, my husband's been complaining. 'Lord Pent's so unfocused! If he's going to fall apart like this, can't he do it after we finish up the ordinances?'"
"Falling apart?" Louise could not help but twist her lips in displeasure. "No, no, Lord Pent wouldn't, not as he is now. Before, he was more unfocused, but now it's as if he's come into focus."
"Hmm," Celia murmured. Madame Amy worked her fingers through her dark green hair, her expression thoughtful.
"He sounds like he was hazy before."
Shuffling her boots in the snow, Louise nodded. "Perhaps. But isn't that very impressive of him to change so much for the better? Of course, Lord Pent was wonderful already..."
"Of course," said Celia with a smile.
"Of course," said a grinning Madame Amy. Realizing that she was being teased, Louise ducked her head as her cheeks began to bear that familiar warmth of embarrassment.
"We should go back soon if you want to get ready for tea," Celia warned, and Louise knew it was true to a word; thus, she complied with a nod and turned to Madame Amy.
"Madame--"
"Just Amy, if you please. I may be working for you in the near future."
Louise shared a confused glance with Celia at this announcement. "Truly? As one of my maids?"
Amy--for she preferred it so--laughed at this. "As nursemaid to your future children, of course!"
"Wha-wha--I don't know...don't say such embarrassing things!"
In truth, it really was embarrassing to hear, but it also made Louise a little happy. That they could make these jokes and tease each other so, without fear of whatever the future would bring, was the most wonderful thing of all. Everything was quite all right.
All they had to do was look to the future.
-0-
Pent had hoped that, without saying anything, Louise would extend the day of her departure beyond the mere week she was staying at the castle, but as they whiled away the days in each other's company this was less and less probable. They took their meals together without exception, walked when the weather was fine and played chess--or, at least, he taught her how to play, as she seemed to find it a novel concept--when a storm blew in for two days. One night they even went to see a play in town, and he wasn't sure what to make of it when the audience applauded the two of them when they entered the theater to find their seats. But, for the most part, they were celebrating their birthdays in the manner he had hoped to two years ago, and there was not one part of it that he found disagreeable.
Well, there was one, but that was more the fault of his own nature.
Currently they were outside in one of the winter-stripped castle gardens, enjoying some fresh air during the lull between the bouts of snowstorms. His senses were strong enough to predict obvious trends in the weather, although he suspected that accurate prediction using the spirits in any situation was still years beyond him, but as he watched Louise toddle before him in more layers of clothing than was probably called for, he wasn't overly concerned about her health at the moment. The ends of her scarf fluttered behind her as she worked her way through the small drifts of snow that stood in her path, and then ceased to move as she bent down and began packing snow together between her gloved hands. He stopped and observed this action, interested and growing suspicious, especially when she glanced behind her and then quickly returned to her little project. By the time she rose, she held a good-sized snowball that she was doing a poor job of hiding with her somewhat less lithe body.
"I'll only warn you once," he called out, unable to hide the smile on his face. "Should you use that against me, I'm afraid I won't hesitate to retaliate with the force necessary to subdue you."
She dropped the snowball, amusement her primary expression. "Lord Pent, it's only a child's game!"
"Well," he said, intentionally lowering his voice, "I'm not a child."
"I know," she said with a laugh, "but it's fun to remember what it was like to be a child and play like this, don't you think?"
I wouldn't really know, Pent did not say. Instead he kept a slight smile on his face and let Louise do as she liked without further commentary, not willing to go further in the current topic of discussion. There was some confusion on her face before she turned and continued forward, and after a moment he began to follow her again.
Truth be told, he was feeling a little dissatisfied.
He was brooding about this feeling of being out-of-sorts when Louise's excited voice reached his ears. "Lord Pent, it's snowing!" she called. When he looked up, he found that it was indeed beginning to snow again. Any words he had to suggest returning inside died upon his tongue when he found Louise using her own to catch snowflakes with.
"Are you really seventeen?" he inquired, his tone perhaps a little more mocking than he had intended. She glanced at him, something unreadable in her expression before she smiled.
"I am. But catching snowflakes like this is so much fun!"
"What is so fun about it, if I may ask?"
She turned her face so that he was met with her profile, which looked oddly fragile in the moment. Light snowflakes were beginning to dot her clothes; the white on her gray cap and cloak made her appear almost aglow against the dark gray skies of the winter day. "I would always like to remember what it is like to be a child, even if I am no longer one. I don't want to lose that part of myself, the part in which I learned so much and enjoyed life so easily. Do you think it is a bit silly, Lord Pent?"
Quieted by her thoughtful answer, he shook his head. "Not in the least, Louise. You should always remain true to your feelings. That is one of the things I admire about you."
"Mn, then..." She turned a brilliant smile onto him. "You should do it too. No one else is out here."
"...It's fine. You can do it for me."
He said that, yet his dissatisfaction only increased as she followed his suggestion and turned away from him to play more of her game. Yes, part of it was an irrational feeling of being ignored, despite the fact that they spent so much time day in and day out since she had arrived, but another part was something a little more...carnal. It did not mean he had any wish to outrage her virtue or anything terrible as such, but there came a time when holding hands and the occasional hug were nice but inadequate.
Really, he just wanted to kiss her once before she left him again.
Clenching his hands, he wondered what exactly he should do. This was completely the fault of his own inexperience and timidity, but at the same time he simply couldn't tell what Louise would do should he make his move. Matters of sensuality seemed to be more her forte, but at the same time he wanted to take the lead in this.
Well, we are going to be married in a matter of months, he reasoned. It would be nice if we had some degree of comfort between us before consummating the union.
Even the thought of it left him feeling embarrassed, but he decided there was no time like the present and gestured for Louise to return to him. She did so with a smile so bright and innocent that he felt awkward without even touching her. He held out his hand while she hopped over piles of snow, but just before she reached out to take his hand he moved forward to catch her around the waist with his outstretched arm. Giggling at this, she moved closer to him, their bodies pressed together, not even the many layers of clothes they each wore dimming this novel effect. Louise's eyes were lowered so that it looked as though she were studying his coat, but he wondered if she was feeling too embarrassed to look up at him. Perhaps she was already at her limits when it came to physical contact.
"Louise," he whispered, promising himself that he would let her define the boundaries of their relationship; as a man, that was only the right thing to do. He only wanted to see her eyes looking up at him from such a close position--that could be enough, if that was what she wanted.
She looked up at him, a healthy blush darkening her pale complexion. He wondered if she was cold, even if her face looked hot. Glancing at her lips, he wondered if those were cold.
He wouldn't do anything she didn't want--this is what he believed of himself. Tentatively, he leaned in, then paused when he could just feel her soft breath against his own lips, but she seemed completely still in his hold.
Was that acceptance? A fear so overwhelming she couldn't move? He didn't know. He wanted to find out.
He kissed her.
Louise did not move, but he had to say that there was more than enough of an effect on him to make up for it; his heart seemed to jump in his chest with even that light press of his lips on hers. It was almost profound to realize how much feeling there was in his lips, as if humans were made for these simple intimacies, and all at once it was too much and not enough. He pulled away after what was possibly the longest moment in his life, wondering just what Louise thought of that--of him--now. "There," he breathed, the single word so quiet he wasn't sure she could even hear him, "I've caught you."
That was the stupidest thing he ever said, he immediately thought afterward. It was not only the stupidest thing he had ever said, it would be the worst he would ever utter in his life. He was certain of this, right until he felt Louise's hand on his shoulder.
"Oh, Lord Pent," she murmured, the soft susurrations against his lips almost too much to bear, "but you already have me."
Because self-deprecation was all he really had to rely on now, he whispered, "Then should I go catch snowflakes instead?" Her grip on his shoulder was an answer even he could recognize, because all he could do was chuckle at such a response. "Or, shall I kiss you again?"
Her answer wasn't audible, but he understood it well all the same.
-0-
Louise looked out the window at the falling snow and thanked God and the saint for this turn in her fortunes; with the snowfall having been consistent over the last few days, her return home had been delayed at least by a week even if it were to end tonight, for the roads would be difficult to travel for at least some days longer. To be allowed to stay within sight of Lord Pent for a week longer was a blessing she could not fail to give her gratitude for, and she made sure to give it often. These days, she spent so much time beside Lord Pent that it would be a most reproachable failure otherwise. She could feel the steady onslaught of heat as it assailed her face at the thought of the time she spent with Lord Pent, her fingers finding each other and twisting in the manifestation of her girlish glee as she lowered her gaze from the window to the soft folds of her cashmere mantle, which was a frosty white and lined with intricate patterns in gold thread from the collar down the front --a gift from her father in celebration of her most recent birthday. The dress she wore under it was made of more common material, the skirts of her cotton dress crinkling in long, elegant pleats of pale blue. And, because Lord Pent had expressed a liking for it, she wore her long hair down, though Celia had insisted on putting a wave through it and pinning up those locks that curled around the sides of her face. Soon enough she would leave for another meeting with Lord Pent, if only she could regain her composure in time...
Scented droplets assaulted her in a single spray from one of her mother's perfumes, and Louise gasped in shock before she turned to face her assailant--her dearest friend Celia! "What are you doing?" she exclaimed, still fully rooted in her surprise.
"I am helping you prepare for your rendezvous," Celia replied, her choice of weapon still in her hands. "This scent is the most becoming of all those your mother brought with her, and it'll easily air out."
Louise sniffed at the air; a light, subtle aroma greeted her nose, flowery without being overpowering, all feminine mystique . "It isn't rose, is it?" Celia smiled at this.
"You're still poor at identifying scents. It's lavender, lily of the valley, camellia, and white plum."
"How incredible...you know so much," Louise murmured in awe, or at least, until Celia flipped the perfume decanter so that a label could clearly be seen by Louise's excellent eyes.
"It's easier with this," Celia said with a smile. To this, Louise pouted. "Oh, come now, you didn't really think I knew all that, did you?"
"But you know everything," Louise responded, "like what colors suit me best, how to apply makeup and prepare my hair, how to mend clothes and wash them so that the material comes out just as nicely whether it is cotton or velvet, how to tie my corset just so that it becomes first an instrument of support rather than a device to unnaturally shape my body, and..."
"Please, enough. I really am suited to only be a maid, it seems," Celia said, a sad look crossing her face but briefly, yet it was too much for Louise to bear. She reached for her wonderful friend's hands, smiling as comfortingly as she could.
"No, first you are my sister, then you are anything you wish to be."
Celia paused for a moment, then shook her head, loose strands of her strawberry-blond braid shaking to and fro. "Lady Louise, you're going to be late. I don't know where you and Lord Pent will go to, but please remember to be careful."
"Careful?" Louise repeated, somewhat confused. "Careful in what? We're not doing anything harmful."
Bowing her head, Celia mumbled, "Nevertheless, you should understand the position you're in right now and take heed of it. The holy saint will forgive you, but at this level I'm not sure your father and lord mother will take things as lightly..."
Louise stared at the crown of her friend's head for a moment, then slowly backed away as a dim light of realization began to glow inside her mind. "T-that's...I wouldn't...Lord Pent would never..."
"I understand," Celia said with a certain amount of force behind her words, "I am not accusing you of anything. We have shared the same firm education by the hands of your mother and Lisette in these matters, and Lord Pent is an upstanding man who has never shown to do anything less than the honorable thing. But, as your soeur du coeur, I can see the changes upon you as your intimacy with him grows, and as the elder of us two I only want you to understand that I care for you enough to warn you, even though it is not necessary. Do you see that, Lady Louise?"
"...I do, Celia, and I see how much sisterly concern you hold for me and I love you all the more for it. Only...although you say you can see this change, you cannot really understand it." Moving towards Celia, she stopped just before her life's greatest friend. "Would it be so terrible to speak from your experience of your heart, rather than your experience with mine?"
For a moment, Celia said nothing, her gaze forward and unwavering. It was when she turned her head to the side that Louise understood that something had been lost here today, that their paths were truly meant to veer away from the other. "I know of his feelings and I am flattered, but I don't find him equal to what I want in my life. My hopes and dreams...these things are my life. If his wants should prove to be the master of mine, then that must mean I myself am nothing. Could you understand that?"
Louise had no response. Celia continued. "I don't really think you can, because it takes root from something before our meeting on that road. For you, to love is to live, and your greatest satisfaction will come from submerging in the love of your family. It will transform you...it has already transformed you. Yet, for me, love is a companion, but it is not the whole of me. That's why our paths must eventually separate. Dear Louise, can you understand that?"
Seventeen years of age, and yet Louise, try as she might, could not do as her sister of her heart bade of her. Instead, she redirected herself so that she was headed towards the door. But, before she could leave, she paused by the door frame and said, "I could, if you want me to. But I cannot say that I like it."
"I don't like it either," Celia said with a certain simpleness that indicated she felt the conversation was over, and Louise agreed, walking into the hallway and down the paths that would lead to Lord Pent's personal library. She willed herself to not think about Celia's words, but she still couldn't help but remember her dear friend's warnings, and her heart trembled for it. It was true that she had reached a deeper intimacy with Lord Pent, and it was true that she had no interest in furthering it for the time being...
How true?
Her steps faltered, a hand pressed to her chest. She did not like the question, never mind that it came from her own mind. Who would like a question that was both interrogation and a mirror to her own heart?
She liked it, but to her eyes that was no problem. Perhaps the deeper problem was that she had no fear of the feelings that arose as she enjoyed the deepening intimacy between herself and Lord Pent.
Was that truly so terrible?
Her mood dampened, she arrived at the library and pushed open the slightly ajar door. "Lord Pent?"
"I'm here," he called from further within the room, emerging from the very last row behind a great shelf loaded with tomes. With his welcoming smile and the way longer strands of his light bluish-gray hair fell across his face, Louise was reminded again, as she always was, at how much he had matured from the young man she had met almost three years ago. In those days, he had been so restrained that it had seemed as though he were unaffected, still unsure of his role in his own life. Of course, she had known that the real Lord Pent was a good and kind man, a wonderful person who only needed to be reached out by others in order to learn how to reach out to them in turn.
Hadn't he, in the end? If he hadn't tried to send his feelings to her, they would not have this now.
"Are you researching for your new paper?" she asked as she approached him, noticing the book he held in his hand. He nodded, showing her the cover, which read A History of Symbology: The Simplification of the Modern Anima Sigil.
"It's actually quite interesting," he told her. "I thought at first that I might like to work on a thesis that could be related to my own growth in ability from warfare, but to be honest something more academic might be preferable at this point. It will be much harder for me to publish since I've been away for so long."
She clapped her hands together, delighted at the news. The look Lord Pent had on his face whenever he was fully engaged in his studies was always quite attractive in how focused he was; she had seen it quite often whenever he discussed possible topics to explore during the last week or tried to explain a magical concept to her. In her mind, she thought he could be quite the capable teacher.
"Would you like to read the draft when I'm done?" he asked, his expression open and full of a singular pleasure; she suspected he was happy that she was so interested in what he loved.
"Yes, I would be happy to if it helps," she said. "But I don't know very much about magic. Will that be all right?"
He nodded. "It will be fine. I would actually prefer that, since I want to see how much you can understand the paper."
"For my sake as your pupil?" she asked with a wide smile. His lips curled into a slight smirk at that, and with the way his shortened hair framed his face and highlighted the glint of amusement in his eyes Louise felt herself warm at the sight.
"No, I thought I would like to be easily understood, whether by accomplished mages or by someone with no considerable knowledge of the subject." There was a pensive expression on his face for a brief moment before he gestured for her to come closer. "Here, I'd like your help. Come closer."
She bit her bottom lip at the command, hiding her face as best she could with her hair despite her short bangs and tied up locks. "Of course," she said as she joined him in the alcove. Surrounded by bookshelves in every way but directly behind her, there was an impending pressure of anticipation that echoed the beat of her heart as she ran her hands down her skirts and surreptitiously adjusted the bottom hem so that it was hidden behind the shelf that blocked them from the door. Next to her, Lord Pent was putting back the book he had been holding; as soon as he tended to that, he turned to her, one hand reaching out to cup her face with the utmost gentleness. A trill ran through her, knowing that he had remembered that she had told him the day before that she had liked that--in the time he had been away, he had developed a coarseness to his hands that, while it did not compare to the callouses she had developed through archery practice, somehow felt pleasant against her skin. These were a man's hands...
"Don't look down," he said, his voice hushed. "Please."
She hadn't even realized she had lowered her face; when she raised her eyes she found an unexpectedly serious look there, his countenance shrouded by something reflected in his eyes that was as fragile as gossamer. It was impossible to look away from him, even as he lowered his face towards hers, and it was only when his lips met hers that she let her eyes close. Something trembled within her as she savored the kiss, as if she were on a beach and in the ocean ahead of her hid deep secrets of her impending womanhood, all the mysteries and pleasures for the taking if she only stepped forward and let herself drown in the feelings Lord Pent caused within her.
Ah--but no, not yet. This was the thing Celia warned her about, the thing that she and Lord Pent were consciously avoiding. There was no need to go forward; wouldn't it be wonderful enough to explore their current location?
There was none of that at the current moment, however, as he pulled away from her. How her face tingled with heat as his light exhale brushed against her parted lips! Had he moved even further away to look at her she would have hidden her face, no matter his request to the contrary, but he elected to remain at a distance that truly wasn't. "Louise," he murmured, each syllable of her name ghosting against her lips as though they were brief kisses all on their own, "are you wearing perfume?"
"I-I am." She smiled, hesitant to whisper her next words, but wanting to all the same. "Do you like it?"
"I think I do. May I?"
The proper and ladylike thing to do in this situation would be to back up and offer him her wrist to sniff, though Celia hadn't applied any there, but Louise was feeling the very word Amy had spoken of over a week ago, hazy, and more than that, a bit of boldness seemed to inject itself into her in her inebriated state. "You may," she replied quietly, closing her eyes as she lifted her head up, not wanting to see the look on his face at this brazen act. As his hand still laid on her cheek she could feel the current of surprise rush through it as if he had been jolted by such temerity, but then she heard him hum a little in response before he moved forward. She could not help but move back at this, her back against the numerous spines of old tomes that lined the shelves of the bookcase behind her, but she took little notice of that when she realized that she could feel the dim sensation of his breath against her neck, still shielded by the collar of her mantle.
Perhaps he found himself hindered, too, for she heard him whisper into her ear, "May I take this off?"
"Ah..." However bold she had thought herself to be, she never would have expected to find her match in Lord Pent! Once she calmed herself down to understand that he only meant the mantle, she swallowed as she nodded, feeling as though the sound carried impossibly loud between them. His fingers were at her throat before she knew it, nudging buttons out of little loops with a dexterity she never would have imagined from him. Her eyes were still tightly closed, so she could feel instead of observe with her own eyes how he folded the collar down, exposing her bare neck--the collar of this dress was in fashion and only went as high as the bottom curve of the connection between shoulder and neck. There, she could feel his breath as it returned to the side of her neck; she could feel just as much as hear him inhale the scent of the borrowed perfume; she could feel it as his lips lightly pressed themselves against the side of her neck.
She went rigid and he paused, his lips removed from her neck just so. It did not help the situation, for she could still feel his breath against her skin and how she warmed more and more with each exhale. Finally, though she felt herself quickly reaching that point where her nervousness would outweigh the nascent pleasure of this exploratory play, she reached up with her left hand to touch what she hoped was the curve of his shoulder. He seemed to understand this action as her reassurance and pressed his lips to her neck again, kissing it with unbearable tenderness. Rubbing his shoulder for want of something to do with that hand while her other was pressed flat against the books, she turned her head a little more to give him that much more access, smiling in ticklish pleasure as he quickly took advantage of this, first by peppering up and down the length of her neck with small kisses, then by pressing his lips with more fervor. Had she not already closed her eyes out of embarrassment she would have already by the niceness of the feelings he was giving her, she knew it.
Then--perhaps it was a little too nice as he parted his lips and nipped just so, giving her a shock she was sure she would not soon forget. Her occupied hand clenched his shoulder but she did nothing more, and after a moment's pause he began to incorporate this to his strategy. Were he not taking an extended leave from the military to attend to his own affairs she would have thought he was thinking with a tactician's mind. The hand he had used to cup her face was now in her hair, and his fingertips against her scalp was quite the pleasant diversion, or perhaps it enhanced the feelings that now coursed through her, she could hardly think enough to analyze it. His tongue made a languid sweep from a certain spot he had found to his liking and that was it, that was more than she could have ever expected to handle, as her entire body seemed to react as though every nerve she possessed lay claim to that one spot of her neck.
"Lord Pent," she breathed with a certain sense of urgency. She did expect that he would stop were she to speak up, but she did not expect him to do it so suddenly, as though he had been frozen on the spot. Luckily for her all-too-sensitive nerves, he raised himself from her in one swift movement and she opened her eyes to find that there was a shine to his eyes that she had never seen before.
"Louise, my name..." He seemed to pause, as though he rethought his words and found them lacking for the moment, then he shook his head. "No, it's nothing."
Her hand was still on his shoulder, but now she felt it would be too obvious if she removed it. That, and she rather liked touching him and it was incoccous enough. "What is it?" she asked, concerned.
"It's nothing," he repeated, his hand once again stroking her face. "What about you? Did I do something wrong?"
"Ah, not exactly, I liked it, I..." She turned away from his expectant look. "I...liked it too much, I think..."
A noise came from him that sounded suspiciously like a muffled laugh, but when she glanced at him his face held the most innocent expression. "All right, I won't do that. But..." He paused, his thumb near the corner of her mouth "May I kiss you again?"
She smiled, happiness and something else coiling within her. "Please do," she murmured, closing her eyes as his face neared hers again. "Please..."
Every time they kissed, it was as though Louise learned something new, whether it was about herself or him. For instance, as her hand roamed from his shoulder to his neck, she found that he seemed to appreciate her touch as he deepened the kiss even faster than he had the last time. In response, she brought her other hand to bear as she placed it on his side, then his back, as she became further and further enraptured by the garden of delights that was this embrace, all the while her left hand, the original instigator, traveled peaceably from his neck to his hair, clipped shorter than the length he had carried on the island but not too short, and she thought wickedly that he might appreciate the sensation of her fingers along his scalp just as much as she enjoyed the same from him. His response was so nice as he pressed even closer to her that she just had to do it again and again, now completely enthralled by the physical and emotional sensations that followed this dance of action and reaction between them until neither knew what the original cause was. All she knew was that this was a happiness that she wanted more of, for once she returned home there would only be short trips to Reglay until the eve of the wedding itself.
No, no, no! Let her have this moment for as long as she wanted, in this sweet time where her exploration had clear limits that encouraged rather than discouraged her. Let her have this in the period between childhood and adulthood, one where she knew too little to act and the other where she was expected to burden herself with the weight of known experiences--let her have a time when she was just childlike enough that all this could be blissfully new while she was adult enough to take advantage of what she had. She was just aware enough to know that all families desired a hearth, so allow them to stoke this heat. Let them--
"Lord Pent," she gasped as they separated, "are you enjoying this? Am I--" Her words were swallowed up by his forceful kiss, and when he released her she was too disappointed by the relative quickness to remember what more she had to ask.
"Yes," he breathed against her lips. "You've always made me happy." And now it was her turn to kiss him, and--
The creaking sound of the door opening was unmistakable; the sound of heavy heeled boots sounding on the stone floor with a confident, casual stroll was downright frightening, as Louise only knew one woman who could think to walk in such a way in the castle. She pushed Lord Pent away, but by his wide eyes he had already heard the intruder and made his own assumptions. "Your mother?" he mouthed, and she frantically nodded, doing up her buttons on her mantle with a speed that she had thought beyond her small fingers. He looked one way, then another, before he grabbed the book he had shown her before from its spot and reached out with his free hand for one of hers. Before she could think to ask him what he was doing, he had already begun to walk around the bookshelf that had sequestered them from the library at large--though, it was really a small one.
"Oh, Lady Catherine. Good day," he greeted her mother, and if Louise hadn't spent a good part of the day with him she never would have thought he had been so pleasurably engaged with her earlier.
Her mother, who had an open book in front of her, looked up at Lord Pent with surprise clear on her face. "Lord Pent? Louise? I hadn't thought there was anyone here."
"Yes, actually, I was doing research for my new paper. It's to be a look at arcane symbology from The Scouring onward and expostulates what this has done to anima magic in terms of linguistic mutations and such. It's quite fascinating, I find."
"Yes, well, I'll leave you to that," her mother said with just an arched eyebrow for effect. Her mother glanced in her direction and instantly frowned. "Hm? Louise, come closer."
Unlike Lord Pent's request for the same, Louise very much did not want to obey this one, but with Lord Pent's hand in her own offering comfort (and perhaps assistance for a quick escape, should it be necessary), Louise did as she was told. Her mother aimed narrowed lavender eyes at her as her mother's mood seemed to darken, then with a quick movement she found her mother's hand grasping her chin. "Girl, what have I told you about asking others permission before using their things?"
Louise could only offer a surprised squeak that much changed her normal voice. "Huh?"
"My perfume," her mother enunciated. Louise nodded, somewhat frantic.
"Forgive me, Mother. It smelled so nice that I wanted to wear it and forgot to ask you first."
"Well, it's the wont of the young woman to hold to selfishness before all else," her mother huffed before releasing her. "Go on, you've put me in a mood."
"Y-yes, I'm terribly sorry..." With a penitent nod, she followed Lord Pent out of the room. Once they were beyond the door and some distance away, she could not help herself: she began to giggle. After a moment, Lord Pent's quiet chuckle joined her before they began to walk again.
Their destination was unknown, but Louise thought it was fine; they were together, and that made all the difference.
-end-