I have wanted for so long to do something like this. I just had the most amazing ideas, and it was like, gotta write, gotta write, gotta write. This is set in the rule of King Bardon the Conqueror, (Roald, father of Jon's dad, If he had a name then tell me and I'll change it). So now we have Themma of Mel Harbor, at her second to last year at the convent of the Mother of Mountains....
Disclaimer: I did not create any of TP's characters, but it would take me forever to list the ones I created and the ones she did, so just don't sue me.
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Themma's Escapades
Chapter 1: The Convent
The Daughters of the Goddess (nicknamed DoGs) went through the hallway, watching the girls as they stood perfectly still, ready (or not) for the daily inspection.
"Henmann, go back to your room and clean those nails. Scrub!"
"Fringe Border, do something about your hair! We are ladies, here!"
"Mel Harbor, you look simply stunning. Keep up the good work."
If Themma hadn't heard the same praise at least a million times before, she would have snickered loudly. It wasn't for nothing that her friends called her Loozie. She used her Gift mainly for illusions, and good ones at that. She constantly pulled pranks and jokes, and though the mistresses were suspicious, they could never quite pin anything on her. After inspection they had a bit of free time, so Themma went back to her dormitory with her friends. There was Belle of Henmann, also known as Skirtz, Jereice of Black River, also known as Fingers, and Stella of Goldenlake, whom everyone called a liar. But Themma, Jereice, and Belle called her Twister, for her ability to twist the truth so much that you couldn't tell what was true and what was a lie. Jereice was called Fingers, because she could steal your teeth without you noticing if she had the mind to. Jereice had had a nanny who was a street rat when she was younger (though few enough people knew that) and taught Jereice all her thieving tricks. Belle got her nickname because of a stunt she had pulled a few years ago, when she had cut all her skirts so short, saying to the infuriated mistresses that it was "all the better to attract a husband." She had done it on a dare, and was sent to bed without dinner for a month. Her friends had brought her food, revering her as a goddess for getting away with that.
Themma plopped on her bed, pondering.
"Hey Loozie," said Belle. I know that look on your face. What stunt are you going to pull now?"
"Well..." she said, "All the stuff we have done so far is little. I want to try something. Something big."
"Uh oh." said Jereice. "Them has one of her crazy schemes coming."
"Not a crazy scheme, THE crazy scheme. You know Mistress Dellings?"
They all nodded. Dellings was the Mistress of etiquette, and the most uptight, stiff lady in the building. "Well, you know how she's been mooning over that man who came to visit, even though she took a vow of chastity? We're going to make sure she gets that guy, here's the plan..."
Ten minutes later they were hiding around a corner, outside Dellings' empty room. Themma hid in a supply closet, which was the distance she needed to cast the illusion. First she worked on the visual, and when she was sure that she had it right, she worked on the sounds. Them could hear the snickers from her friends as she worked on the rustling of bedsheets, Dellings' giggles, and the sound of kissing. The First Daughter, Perionne, was walking past Dellings' rooms when she heard the commotion. She frowned and opened the door to a shocking scene, Dellings and the visiting man, unabashedly making love in the convent of the Mother of Mountains.
Mistress Dellings was kicked out the next day, and she seemed slightly mystified, though for the most part happy as she rode off with Roxal, her visiting man. They soon got a new etiquette Mistress, but she wasn't nearly so bad as Mistress Dellings.
Her lessons and pranks went on as usual, including sending miniature illusory dragons after the terrified cooking Mistress, Stella doing the talking as usual (Dragons! Oh, no, Mistress Ghettia, we would never do such an awful thing) Until she got a package and letter from her father. Sir Nendin of Mel Harbor had always supported Them's unladylike behavior, to a point. But he was a wishy-washy; he could never stand up to his wife, Lady Karenne. Themma opened the package with rising excitement. It contained three things, two square and one roughly cylindrical. The square packages were two books, The Art of Etiquette and Cooking From the Yamani Isles.
"Why the crap did he send you junk like that?" Stella blurted.
"Junk?" Themma replied innocently. She opened the inside covers and revealed two completely different titles: Riding for Intermediates and Fencing: Book One. The last package, when unwrapped, was a sword, of good quality and fresh from the forge.
"A sword?" Belle squeaked. "If the DoGs find out you will be up to your eyes in embroidery until you're eighteen!
"Then they won't find out," Them reasoned.
"Can you wield it?" asked Jereice.
"Gods no. I can barely lift the damned thing, let alone use it. That's what the book is for. I can ride pretty well, and use a bow passably, but my fencing skills are enough to make a soldier cry."
So Themma practiced. And practiced. And practiced. She practiced until she was sore and tired.
"Bah! This is impossible. I can't even get past chapter two in this stupid book!" Themma scowled her worst scowl and was about to give up entirely until she thought, you wanted to fence, you learn to fence. Quitter. Quitter. Quitter. Quitter. It was her new chant. Every time she tried to quit, she would repeat it in her head. Classes were hell. She was tired and cranky, and barely remembered to put up her "soft skin" illusion at inspection. But she lived. She read her riding book at night, and sometimes took out her horse, Feyquin, when it was dark to practice what she had read. Feyquin was the rowdiest stallion that she could persuade her parents to let her have, and seemed to get grumpier as time went on. Themma had chosen him for specifically this fact.
But sometime in her sixth or seventh year, Themma got a letter from her mother.
Dear Themma,
(it read)We are bringing you home early so as to find a suitable husband for you. Your father and I have found some nice men, but we need them to see you in person. I have bought some nice new dresses for you; they suit you so well! Darling, I know that one day you will make a very fine lady, and whomever you marry I will be happy for you.
Your Loving Mother,
Lady Karenne
Themma didn't panic. Too much. Dresses! She wore enough of them at the convent, and knowing her mother's sense of beauty, her "nice new dresses" were probably awful affairs with lots of pink and lace. But a husband? She was only seventeen! Of course Themma knew about all that rot, but usually young ladies went to court to find husbands. It was settled. They could scream and yell and pull, but she wasn't going to leave this bloody convent, however awful it was.
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I'm going to be nice. Five reviews until the next chapter. Fair? If nobody likes my stuff then I will keep trying different stories until I find something that everybody likes (rude songs don't count).