Atlantic Roleplay Community Boards

[Genevieve Troyes]

---

Blades and Blood


The healer was cutting her shirt up the back. Genevieve flushed twenty shades of rose and red. Can't she just lift the bottom of the shirt to see the wound? She glanced over to Stefan. He had his head against the wall and his eyes were closed again. He held her hand loosely in his.

"You have your mind set about the liquor then?" Tess asked.

Genevieve nodded.

"I'll have to sew you up after this is clean. You may want to rethink that - you'd have to drink now," the healer waited for her answer.

"Please, "she pleaded, " just do what needs to be done and quickly if you can."

Tess picked away the thick crust of dried blood. Genevieve tightened her grip on his hand and Stefan's eyes flew open. She could feel new blood start to trickle down her side. The healer shifted the bottles around on the table and the soft chink of glass hitting glass broke an unnatural silence in the room.

"Two wounds?" There was surprise in her voice. Stefan nodded.

"Two blades."

The healer looked at him accusingly, but continued to work. Another faint chink and then Genevieve felt cold liquid being poured onto her spine and pool at the small of her back. The liquid was cool at first and changed to burning hot within seconds. She sucked air in through her teeth and squeezed his hand tighter. His face was inches from her now, his deep voice calm, telling her she would be fine.

Genevieve nodded, concentrating on his eyes. They were brownish now, darker than she remembered them. There were flecks of gold and green in them too. On some days they were honey colored, others more green and right now they were steeped in anguish.

Tess blotted the liquid away with a clean cloth and gently spread the wound apart to see how deep it ran. Gen gasped and swallowed the scream struggling to be set free. She bit hard on her bottom lip instead. The tears pooled in the corners of her eyes.

"I don't see that it went to bone, and you can move around," came the assessment, "but after I sew you together you're going to have a permanent reminder of...this. "

Stefan looked devastated. "Genevieve," he whispered her name like it was a prayer, "I'm so sorry, this is all my fault, I'm never going to forgive myself." He touched her face, "I'm..sorry."

"Not your fault," she managed to choke out. Her fingernails dug into the wooden frame of the bed leaving half-moon marks. She hoped the healer was almost done with the poking and prodding.

He shook his head no. She held his hand tighter, her knuckles turning white. The healer was threading the needle.

"Listen to me, some lessons are hard learned. This was mine in humility and temperance," she gave him a wry smile on the last word and paused to catch her breath. Was the room getting warmer? "Do you understand, Stefan?" Her gaze met his. She needed him to understand this. "We can talk more about my temper later," she laughed but it was full more of pain than mirth. "You know me. You know how I am and so you know I speak the truth of this." She got him to smile and some guilt slipped from his eyes.

"Gen, I'm.."

"Shh," she paused, "answer me this, what would have happened if you didn't do as I asked?" He blinked, taken aback and was silent for several long seconds. "Yes, I thought so. 'Tis another part of me I fear that needs some improving."

"Ready miss?"

Gen nodded. The needle bit into flesh. A big tear slid down her cheek. Tess pulled the needle up quickly, twice, tugging thread and flesh with it. An absurd thought popped into Genevieve's head, is this how a marionette feels all tethered by string through its limbs? Two more pulls through her skin and she surrendered. Sweet oblivion claimed her again.

[Genevieve Troyes]

---

Stefan looked to the healer. Tess shook her head, "She'll be fine. I've seen bigger than her go down faster and howling – and that was with whiskey."

She finished her work and turned her attention to Stefan. "You're next."

"I'm fine."

"You're next, so stand up."

Stefan reluctantly let go of her Genevieve's hand and stood in front of the healer. Quickly and quietly, she cleaned the numerous scrapes and scratches all over his body.

"On the morrow, if she's up to eating, cook up some meat and leave it bloody. Bloody to feed her blood , she's lost a bit. You understand?" She continued, "The bandages will need checking and changing, keep eveything clean. Infection is what you have to worry about now."

Tess rearranged the bottles on the table setting a few aside and tucking the rest back into her leather satchel. She stood, handing Stefan a tightly rolled ball of bleached cloth. He looked from her to the window. The night was black as pitch.

"You aren't leaving?" He asked incredulously.

"Course I am." She slung the bag over her shoulder.

"Stay until the morning and I promise you, I will bring the you and the horse safely back."

"The horse," she glared at Stefan. "I'll return the beast..." her gaze shifted to the sleeping girl and softened, "...though I suppose I understand your haste in that matter."

Stefan was too tired to argue with the woman. He'd have lost the argument anyway, so he pressed a small coin purse into her hand and watched her leave. Tomorrow he would travel back to the town and settle things with the healer and the horse owner.

Tess untied the animal and held the reigns tightly in one hand though she stood a good distance away from him. "May the Virtues guide and bless you both," she said and disappeared into the night.

"And you as well," he responded automatically.

Stefan crossed the room and flopped onto the floor again, watching her sleep. Her face rested on her hand, her expressions changing slightly while she slumbered. He gently combed her hair back with his fingertips and saw her mouth set into the sulky pout he knew too well. Stefan suddenly felt bad for the dreamytime fellow who had caused this face.

"The poor man doesn't know what he's got himself into to – even in the Land of Nod," he chuckled and gently kissed her forehead.

No, she thought, Not my head... A feeble laugh escaped her taking Stefan by surprise.

"What's so funny?" he whispered, still stroking her forehead.

"Nothing," her grey eyes opened a little, "just that you're in the wrong place."

She was asleep before he could ask what she meant and then his own eyes closed as he raced to join her in Nod.

[Genevieve Troyes]

---

Decisions


"Mm, someone's plotting..."

Genevieve jumped. Chretian crossed the room and kissed the top of her head.

"...or do you prefer, deep in thought?" he smirked.

She narrowed her eyes and scowled. "I do not plot, and besides, how would you know?"

"Because you do that with your lip," he pointed. She looked puzzled. He rolled his eyes. "You run your finger along your bottom lip. Mama used to do the same thing."

"Plot her escape from father, I can't imagine why..."

"No, the lip thing," his voice quieted, "and it wasn't like that at all, Genevieve. He wasn't like he is now, something changed in him when she died." He looked down. "You were too little to remember but I do," his voice trailed off. "So," he exhaled slowly, "how did the Great Talk go? Are you happily un-betrothed now?" He offered her one of the apples he held and she shook her head no.

"I did try to reason with him," she said.

"And how did that go?" The expression on her face said it all. "Okay, so reasoning didn't work, what then?" He picked up an orange that was on the table and tried to juggle the fruit.

"I did what any loving sister would do in the same situation,'" she paused, "I drew his attention to you and then threw you under the wagon."

The orange hit the floor. He looked amused. "How so?"

"I reminded our Lord Father that it was you who would inherit everything and that perhaps he should be more concerned with having you married off and producing an heir. I really am of little consequence in all this," she smiled sweetly.

He chuckled, "I see."

"I did suggest Rosaline, I know she's fond of you and you of her."

His grin grew wider, "Well you know..." he held both apples at chest height. Genevieve sighed.

"Since reason and treason both failed," he shot her a wounded look, "who is the lucky man? Is it still Lord Breakfast Beard? Perhaps Ser Knickers? Or who was the one with the toe fe..."

The horrid screech the chair made against the wooden floor caused him to look up again as she stood and walked out of the room.

[Genevieve Troyes]

---

Reasoning


This was not going well.

"...and if you think, for one moment, that all you've done has gone unnoticed all these years you are wrong!" He slammed his fist on the table punctuating the last word.

The vein in her father's neck was bulging again.

"Don't stand there looking surprised, Genevieve. All of it! Everything you thought you were being careful about hiding, I've known about it all," he paced back and forth ticking things off.

"The sword lessons, I should have had Joren's head for that! Your brother finishing your papers, skipping lessons, spending time with that crazy old woman in the orchard, your brother covering for you, lying for you..."

He stopped and faced her. "Stefan, " he hissed the word through his teeth and now she really was surprised.

"Stefan? What does he have to do with this?" Her brow furrowed.

"Oh don't think I didn't know there was something there! When the guardsmen found you.. well I took care of that too!"

"What?"

"Don't play coy with me."

"I'm not playing at anything, I haven't the slightest idea what you are talking about." It was true, she didn't have a clue.

He glared. "When the guardsmen found you, together." It was then she realized the implication and her cheeks burned bright red.

"When the guardsmen found me, I was burning up with fever. He saved my life, Father."

"He was the cause of your life being in jeopardy in the first place!" His hand connected with the table again and a goblet toppled over.

"What do you mean 'you took care of it'?" Her voice was low and full of venom. Stefan had gone off shortly after, no words of good-bye, nothing in three years. She had one friend and he had been it.

"I took care of it, that's all you need to know! You are my daughter, I've let you get away with far too many things. I've indulged you too much! Well, no more. Do you hear me? NO MORE!"

She jumped.

"You will start acting like the Lady you are supposed to be. You will take up the duties of the Lady you are supposed to be starting at the next moon. Your betrothal will be announced and you will get on with growing up! Am I understood?"

Genevieve was stunned into silence.

"Am I un-der-stood?" Each syllable was accompanied by the table being abused further.

"Yes, father," she bowed her head slightly, curtsied and left.

[Genevieve Troyes]

---

A Time for Everything...


Genevieve walked down the long stone hall towards her room past tapestries of rich reds and golds that fluttered as she passed. She loved her father and her brother, but both were too much to bear at times.

Once inside, she paced the length of the room thinking. The only sounds were the soft shuffle of her slippers on the floor and the whoosh of her skirts when she turned. She had thought through every possible scenario and outcome. She had tried every trick she could think up and yet here was the truth laid bare – she was out of time and ideas.

Leave.

She heard it as clear as if someone had spoken it aloud. Genevieve whirled and looked around the room. The only thing she saw was the corbin on the windowsill regarding her quietly. "Brilliant, I'm hearing things," she said to the bird. "Can madness be that close?" He turned his head as if pondering the question. She sighed, "And now I'm talking to a bird and myself and answering too, so it must be."

Yet there was the solution. Clear. Perfect. Simple. Leave.

It wasn't as if she hadn't thought about this before... She had many times during her life, dreamed it, even. She'd always sensed that she wasn't meant to be here in Avallonis, that there was some other fate that awaited her.

"Can I do this," she looked to the corbin. The bird bobbed its head up and down as if answering and flew off.

[Genevieve Troyes]

---

A Time for Good-byes...


Genevieve sat with her back against the bark of the apple tree. Her legs were drawn up to her chest and her arms were wrapped around them, chin on knees. She was watching the progress of a small, fuzzy caterpillar as he made his way over the grass. This was where she always found solace and peace.

The cool autumn breeze kicked up making her hair dance around her face and brought the heady smell of the orchard to her nose. They were ripe and ready for harvest. She closed her eyes for a moment and inhaled, this was the smell of home and she would miss it terribly.

"Is it time now, child, " asked a voice cracked with age and as ancient as the orchard itself.

Genevieve slowly opened her eyes and smiled. The old woman needed no invitation and was already easing herself onto the ground beside her. Despite her age and bent limbs, the woman had the uncanny ability to sneak up on Genevieve without so much as a sound. This was how it always was and Genevieve laughed.

"Something funny, child," the eyebrows on her face shot up giving her wrinkled visage a comical look.

"Remembering you, and how quiet you always are...." her voice trailed off as she studied the woman's face.

"Remembering? I'm right here, child," she looked surprised.

"Did you know, " Genevieve turned to her, "there were times when I was younger when I was convinced you were magic? That you could just appear out of the air behind me...and it was always when I needed you most."

"Oh? Only when you were younger? And not now?" The grin spread across the woman's face. Her kind eyes twinkling with mischief, belieing her age.

Genevieve regarded her quietly for a few long minutes and was suddenly unsure of the answer to that question. Many had thought the old woman was a witch, a spirit.

"It is time then."

She stated it plainly and Gen nodded confirmation. "I knew this day would come." She pulled a small burlap pouch from under her many skirts and bounced it in the palm of her hand. The stones within knocked against each other.

"Will you let me tell your fortune now?"

Genevieve shook her head no. "I don't want to know. It would shadow my every move, and then what if I took a false step and changed everything?"


"Wise child," she tucked the pouch away and laid her hand on Genevieve's cheek. "A few words, then?"

"Always."

The old woman continued slowly, carefully picking her words.

"It is not really a matter of you wanting to do this, child...it is simply something that must be done, " she placed her hand on Genevieve's hand.

"You've lost something very dear to you that cannot be found here. Seek it out. It is has called to you for years, it is what pulls you from this place. It is why you are restless here," she paused and looked off gathering her thoughts.

"Everything has been preparing you for this moment. Keep well the games we have played and all the things that I have shown you. You will need them. Although you thought them child's play - they have always had a purpose and will serve you."

She pushed herself to her feet with some effort. "Time for me to go now, and for you too."

"You know you were always a mother to me," it was barely a whisper. Genevieve closed her eyes, fighting back tears.

The old woman nodded, "I know, I know...but now life calls and you must answer it. Adventure awaits." The old woman stooped to kiss her cheek and when Genevieve opened her eyes she was once again gone into the wind and air.