Heralds come from all walks of life, or so they say. Commoners, highborn, thieves, traders, even the occasional assassin or outKingdomer. And yet, no one can remember the last time a lady of the night was Chosen. Why not? After all, everybody knows the Heralds are anything but celibate.
Rated T for suggestion—I promise I don't intend to write anything explicit!
Disclaimer: Heralds/Companions/Valdemar etc equals property of M Lackey equals not mine!
Chosen Lightly but Rightly
Chapter 1
Gaia spun, then turned to regard her image in the mirror. With her long skirts swirling about her, in the height of Court fashion, she was pleased with what she saw. Elaborately coiffed rich auburn hair was piled atop her head, a few loose curls cascading down past her waist. Bright brown eyes, large and innocent, thickly lashed, gazed out at her. A pale, pretty face with a rosebud mouth, a small pert nose, and pink cheeks smiled saucily. Her long, lithe form was set off well by the low-necked gown of green wool. She could have been one of the young Court flowers, save that the neck of her gown was just a hair too low, the cut just a smidgen too suggestive. I have come a long way from what I was when I arrived in this city.
"Lady Elsa! Your milord is here to see you!" came the voice of the mistress of the house. Gaia was not permitted to use her real name, not that she would have wished to, but the mistress said it was too much a commoner's name, and the milords who came to her establishment were interested in a more cultured female.
"I do apologize, sir, I'll be down in but a moment!" Gaia cried back, careful to modulate her voice into cultured tones and the high-pitched breathiness of a young flirt.
She twirled in front of the mirror once more, checking the fall of her dress. There was nothing in her appearance to tell of the lost little farmer's daughter she'd been six years earlier when she'd entered this life. She was lucky to have been found by Madame Lucalle, who insisted that her girls be old enough to have a monthly cycle and carry a witty conversation, and had spent the intervening years training Gaia in all she needed to know to become one of the city's most sought-after courtesans. Now, at sixteen, "Lady Elsa" was the talk of the town—when no wives or other females were present.
Gaia ran down the steps to the receiving room, careful both to put a swing to her hips and to keep her steps light like a carefree girl.
"Oh, milord, you came to see me!" she gushed, like one of the sweet young highborn maidens receiving a caller.
Later that evening Gaia picked up the mess they'd made of her room, smiling to herself. Though disreputable, this was not such a bad life, all told.
Gaia yawned, and quickly covered her mouth. In the year and a half since she had 'come out' into society, this was without doubt the most boring play yet. And when it finally ended, her evening would not be over–her escort would take her home with him, where she would be expected to fulfill his every wish.
Gaia winced as one of the actors onstage squalled. Enough was enough! She leaned closer to the young lord who was tonight's companion, so that her shoulder brushed his arm and he had a clear view down her neckline. "Milord," she said breathily, "it is quite close in here, and I begin to feel faint. Perhaps we could take some air?"
The fellow was so solicitous, Gaia actually felt bad for not telling the truthful reason for their hasty exit. Lady Elsa and Lord Harmon were soon to be seen strolling in the alley alongside the playhouse.
It was one of the better parts of town, but not exactly upscale. There was a beggar on the corner. Lady Elsa gave Harmon sad eyes until he flipped a coin into the beggar's bowl. At that, Elsa gave her breathy laugh and rewarded him with a peck on the cheek. Then she drew back, as if aghast. "Oh, milord, I do beg your pardon! It's just that, well, you're such a good man." Elsa peeked up at him through her lashes, head bowed demurely. She was, after all, a consummate flirt. After six years' practice, she should be.
Lord Harmon was blushing. "It's quite all right, Elsa, m'dear. Ah—would you care for some refreshment? Perhaps a carriage, so that your slippers don't get soiled?"
Gaia wondered for a moment if he knew what he sounded like. Then Elsa took over, grasping the young lord's hand with her own, gathering her skirts with the other, and crying, "Come, milord, let us visit the fountain!"
The fountain square was filled with people, as always. Elsa blithely danced closer to the water's edge, wanting a chance to peer at her reflection, no doubt. She looked so light and carefree, so innocent. He knew better.
He knew she didn't love him. For all she gave herself to him, she didn't love him—she had so many men. And he was no longer one of them, now that his father had decreed it was time for him to outgrow this fascination with a lightskirt and settle down with a wife.
Well, if he couldn't have her, no one else would either.
He waited until the foolish lordling's back was turned, then yanked Elsa away. A hand over her mouth stifled her startled cry, then she looked up. Recognizing him, she smiled. He smiled back at her, the knife in his right hand invisible behind her back. If she made a fuss, he'd simply gut her then leave her for the lordling to explain. Of course, he'd rather she came with him, but there were other girls where she came from.
"Milord, I have not seen you for so long!" Elsa proclaimed. "And yet, I must make my apologies, for I must return to my escort. He will be alarmed that I have wandered off."
She thought he didn't know. She thought he didn't realize these men paid, as his father had paid. Selfish bitch. She thought she was such a prize.
He snarled, and raised the knife.
Gaia pulled back from the expression on the man's face. He looked completely deranged. Behind her she felt movement, and caught a flash of steel out of the corner of her eye. Oh, gods! He could kill me! I don't want to die!
Then came a mighty whinny. Hooves of thunder, eyes of blue flame, a piece of lightening made flesh, a Companion. She shouldered Gaia roughly away, to knock the man to the ground. With a cry of rage that sounded almost human, the mare brought her front hooves down on the man's upper arm, breaking it with an audible snap. He moved to reach with his other arm—she caught his shoulder in her teeth, squeezing so Gaia could hear the bones grate.
:Never come near her again, or you will die, and it will be your own fault. You have been warned.:
Gaia gasped to hear the words in her head.
:Hello, Gaia. My name is Risata, and I Choose you. You are mine, forever. You are not allowed to be killed.:
Let me know if you think this is an idea worth continuing. It's staying as a oneshot unless I get some reviews! hint, hint