Disclamer: Yes, this story takes place in a land made up by the excellent Sherwood Smith. Yes, I know this means the place names, titles and some of the customs are not mine, so please know that too. I would also like to apologize for borrowing said place names, titles and customs, as I certainly will not put them to the use they were created for as I am not the excellent Sherwood Smith. However, I hope she forgives me for playing with a few of her creations, and I hope you enjoy reading this ramble of mine.

Chapter One

In which Pip makes a fool of herself

It was a warm evening in early summer. Pip rested her head on the window frame and watched the sky darken and the shadows in the garden deepen. Curled on a cushion in the small wood paneled "private room" she felt calm and content, she wouldn't be too unhappy if this moment continued forever. But it couldn't; sounds, the rise and fall of voices, laughter, music, floated in from the ballroom just outside, eventually she would have to go back to the party. Normally she could and would just float away after a half-hour's appearance, but this was Anna and Tamerov's private engagement party, as a good friend she shouldn't just disappear, however much she may want to.

Still, she had earned a few moments rest. She had helped plan the party which was officially hosted by Tamerov's aunt and stepmother. Neither of them knew Anna well and they couldn't well ask her to plan her won party, or ignore her tastes entirely, so they had approached Pip for help with the basics, and when Anna and Pip as her best friend had been invited to Tamerov's estate in Savona Pip had somehow ended up continuing to help. In a say Pip was glad, her help now meant that she could be excused from helping with the much more formal official engagement party that would be held later at court and which would certainly be much more unpleasant than the "family" party. Family was in quotes, most of the nearly two hundred people invited were not part of Tamerov of Anna's families at all, at least not directly. From what she had seen poking through the family histories nearly all of the noble families in Remalna had intermarried at some point in the last four generations. Even Tamerov and Anna were distantly related. Anna was distantly descended from the Calahandras family and Tamerof's father's mother's father's cousin's wife's mother had been the last of that same noble line. Interestingly enough, or at least to Pip, Tamerov's stepmother was the great granddaughter of that same last Calahandras. Plus since Tamerov's stepmother happened to be the Marquis of Merindar's aunt, not only was the Marquis the great great grandson of the last of the Calahandras, but it made him step cousins with his best friend Tamerov. This for some reason was endlessly entertaining to Pip, and she gazed out at the now dark garden being entertained for a moment until someone came in from the ballroom. She turned startled, and cursed and blushed simultaneously as she recognized the surprised Marquis of Merindar himself. Of all the blasted people to interrupt her daydreaming during a party at their expense- why must it be him! "I do beg your pardon- I had no idea anyone was in here, you were so quiet…"

"Oh, no," she stammered, "I should get back anyway; I just got wrapped up in family trees." Drat! Bad move Pip- very bad, now you're going to have to explain yourself to him. Stupid! Why do you never say the fight thing to him? What can you do to fix this?... Anna and Tamerov- that's it! "Tamerov and Anna are both descended from the Calahandras family did you notice? Getting up off the cushion, "I hadn't until just now." A lie, but it made it all more plausible and less like she was talking down to him, 'did you notice, no? well I did' But darnit he was between her and the door- she hoped her cheeks weren't as red as they were hot- this whole thing was very bad…

"Well as Tamerov isn't directly descended I don't think that will stop the marriage." He was laughing at her, but as long as the conversation rested on Tamerov and Anna instead of him or her she was fine.

A forced smile and an almostlaugh, "I don't think anything would stop them now." Good good- they were off family trees and onto the engagement.

"I won't deny I don't agree to that" he had finally turned away as if looking through the door back to the ballroom and it's guests of honor.

Pip relaxed a little, "they are very lucky, "not thinking of them at all.

"Yes, he responded still looking away and just as detachedly as Pip, "they certainly are…" and then suddenly they both recollected themselves and "well I didn't mean to keep you…"

And he stepped aside allowing her to escape with a nonsensical, "No, not at all, but I should you know reappear."

Later after the noisy brightness of the party had given way to the quiet darkness of her room she ran over the conversation again. Why hadn't she thought before she spoke? How much of what she wanted to hide had he seen? Why was she reduced to such transparent imbecility by him? Last summer she had only wanted to beat him in badminton. Now that she had she would be glad to never see him again. The way her obsession had ruled her was unnerving and she never wanted to have a repeat. Well, he was staying only for the week, he had reluctantly turned down Tamerov's invitations for a longer stay citing responsibilities fighting the bandits that had appeared in the Merindar forests that spring. And her great uncle had requested her presence with him as soon as her stay in Savona was ended. She would probably not return to court until the formal engagement party early that fall and even then not stay long. Her great uncle was old, and when he was gone she would take his place, something she still needed much preparation for. She hoped this would mean there would be few future run ins with the Marquis of Merindar. But oh- what a jabbering fool she had been! To talk of family trees with the guy who's family tree set him as most eligible for the crown, and yet whose best friend was named Prince instead because the last time a Merindar had sat on the throne had been legendarily disgusting. Oh poor tactless Pip! In so many ways unsuited for the task her great uncle was forced to bestow on her. And with many a sigh ad still burning cheeks Pip fell slowly asleep.

I was easy enough to avoid the irksome Marquis the following week, the estate was constantly swarming with people left over from the party giving the both of them plenty of things to do other than be in each others company. However as the week when on more and more of the guests set out for home causing Pip to curse inwardly when the Marquis announced the decline in bandit attacks and his subsequent decision to stay another week. Anna and Tamerov expressed their extreme pleasure and though Pip did not contradict them, she knew this next week would be harder to get thorough than the past one.

The first few days were fine, then came the awful day of the riding invitation. It all began that morning with a suggestion from Tamerov of going riding. Pip had no interest of doing anything with the Marquis in a group smaller than ten on in riding anywhere with anybody, so she ignored the resulting discussion and continued to eat her breakfast and think what a pleasant day it would be and if they were going to be gone and how much time she could spend writing in her journal. Then she began to think of how many pages one could write a day in one's journal before being considered excessive, and whether the number changed if one was writing all about a particular event or just writing pointless dribble about how one liked yellow flowers much better than red and why. She concluded that anything above three and a half pages a day was definitely excessive and it didn't matter what one wrote about, but if one was documenting very large of very important event, such as a grand party in which one made a new and interesting acquaintance. Then one could write up to six pages before being excessive. Then she began to wonder how many times she had bothered to document anything really important in more than three sentences, but as everyone was suddenly getting up she chose to stop wondering and instead to run up and get her journal and check. Which she did.

Sadly enough there were only a few occasions which Pip had bothered to document to an extent which their importance deserved. This she thought deserved some documentation, so she trotted down to the library which was the only place she was sure of finding a decent pen. She had just finished her formal documentation and begun on a curt admonishment to herself to write better when the badness began.

Something happened to the pen and it began to leave huge splotches of ink everywhere. In disgust Pip dropped the pen in the waste basket and dashed back upstairs to search for another one she was fairly sure she had let by her bed. She couldn't find it and when she came back to the library her heart did something not normal. There was the Marquis-

--With her journal!

Pip rushed over, "That's mine, I didn't mean to leave it there." All she wanted was to get it out of his hands and out of sight.

He didn't seem to be very sensitive today, "You wrote this?" he asked turning a page and looking up, "What language is it in?"

Ug! He'd noticed- drat drat and double drat! Now she'd have to explain- and boy did she not want to. Curtly, "It's not" bad track- better to play stupid- confusedlyish, "I mean its not another language or anything," add a smile and a little laugh- please don't have him take this seriously, "just a code thing Anna and I had a kids." Good, pull in Anna too, the last thing Pip wanted was for him to think this was the private thing it was. "I don't know where we got it from…" a lie, but anything to make it seem that she had less of a hand in it. She did not want him knowing he was looking at her private journal written entirely in a code she had make up and only she could read.

He was flipping through more pages- bad! "You can read this?"

Flippantly "sure."

"What does this say?" pointing to a quote from 'Philosophy of True Leaders' which she had thought was important.

Jokingly "what's the point of a code if you go around telling everybody what it says?"

One last look then, "I guess you're right," and her precious was back in her hands. "I came to ask if you were ready, Tamerov and Anna are out in the courtyard."

Uh-oh, "ready for what?"

"Riding remember? We talked about it at breakfast…"

Riding- she vaguely remembered something of the sort, but why hadn't Anna made her excuses for her?- Curses! She was going to have to excuse herself- and to the Marquis! This was not good. "Oh- I don't ride." Please go away now…

"Oh, but it's such a lovely day- come on."

"No, I couldn't…"

"You're not going to leave me all alone with those two lovebirds are you?"

This was really not good. "No, its not that I don't want to, its just that I don't." Really really not good. "Plus I have some correspondence that must be attended to, my great-uncle for one." And she'd be darned if she said anything else on the matter. He was going to speak again drat him. "You go have fun" get lots of exercise so that you come back tired tonight and won't want to talk about anything but how the horse threw a shoe and leave me in peace!

Finally he got the idea, and when he was safely out of the room Pip sank down into a chair. She slammed open her journal and stared at the blank page a moment before remembering she didn't have a pen. So she slapped the book shut again, but her head in her hands and wished silently that a band of mercenaries would crash into the library and run her through with their swords so she would never have to face the Marquis like that again.

The mercenaries did not come. Nor did they come when the mail delivered a curt latter from her great uncle hoping she was having a lovely stay and not to end it prematurely on his account, but that he could like her to come soon. Finally when cream of spinach soup was served for lunch Pip gave up on their ever coming. Pip really hated cream of spinach soup. Ad in in answer to her final release of hope it began to rain, and just as Pip came to the conclusion that even playing with cream of spinach soup was disgusting she heard the voices and general clatter of the three riders in the entryway. She got a maid to get rid of her soup and in a few moments Anna and then Tamerov jointed her with wet hair but dry clothes and appetites. It turned out that they like cream of spinach soup. Pip decided the world hated her and excused herself.

Outside in the hall she paused with her back to the wood-paneled wall to take a few deep breaths in a desperate attempt to restore some sort of balance to her squalling emotions. Whether or not they actually succeeded Pip couldn't tell, but the breathing didn't make the day any brighter, it was still raining heavily and there was still a lingering aftertaste of soup at the back of her throat, but she ceased to have the urge to break something which was on the whole helpful. And with this success Pip decided that the unpleasantness of the morning would be best remedied by an afternoon in a comfy chair with a novel, and so turned towards the library.

Alas, the horridness of the day was not ready to be remedied quite yet. Somehow- Pip was always a little fuzzy on how it happened one of the maids pressed her into taking a bowl of that horrid soup to the Marquis, who also, it seems, had decided to remedy his afternoon with a stint in the Library.

Author's Note:

I have not put something up on in years, and am only doing so now for Anna's enjoyment and also to maybe procrastinate on my homework a little. I honestly haven't the foggiest idea when or if I will really update this. Goodness knows I really should be spending more time on that homework anyway. This is also my first (and hopefully only) Sherwood Smith fic. I keep trying to wean myself off these and onto true literature that my classes dictate I read anyway. Of course as you all know that never works anyway. But it's worth a try no? Anyway- my point- well, I guess my point is really that first sentence there- I don't know why I'm still writing...

-Nip