A/N So... I haven't updated in a long time. I have now because someone wrote me and said Update. So I have. The reason I have not is because I lost interest in the story and was like "where shall I go from here?" So many possibilties. And I wrote a lot but you know when you have an inspiration and are typing so fast and you forget to save every so often? well... And then the musical practices are keeping us forever and then my crush asked me out on Valentine's Day. So this is my first Bf. I am on holiday break. And nothing else is new. I shall try to update more often.
Be on alert for grammatical mistakesgigi
Giselle paused in this point of her lay. It was a beautiful tragic tale from her homeland, of the woman who came to know and understand the rift between the dancers and the singers. It was here in this tale that followed the woman through her perils in the enemy camp that she caused the rift between the two sects. It was here in this tale where dancing became forbidden. She paused glancing at the floor.
The King and the courtiers were looking at her expectantly. She stood from the harp her skirt pooling about her ankles. Her feet were slim and bare looking without any ornamentation on her black shoes. She had no chain on her ankle or bow to her shoe. After contemplating the style of the impossibly tall heels the women courtiers were wearing she looked up shyly. Glancing at the handsome sovereign she asked him softly if he wanted to hear the rest of the tale.
He smiled encouragingly and said "We all are at your mercy. We await the end on pins and needles."
Giselle nodded solemnly and began again, her voice becoming harsh in tone and staccato in rhythm with plucking of the strings to convey the fear of the girl.
The blue armored knight flung me
on a pile of furs. A young slave brought him
water and clean clothes.
Of which he changed
into wordlessly.
As he finished,
He barked an order,
to the pale skinned slave.
The young boy scurried off to do the task.
The boy appeared
a moment (Separation means sta-catt-o)
later leading a
Beautiful lady.
She spoke softly in my own language.
The Master wants to know said the lady
Why wished you to jump off the cliffs?
And I stared. I am alone.-----
Alone.
Alone.
He is dead.
My love, my life.
Dragon rider,
protector of the weak,
dead at my feet
Am. Alone.
I gasped and then I sobbed and then I broke down crying.
He grasped me by the shoulders.
His arms were strong.
His grasp was tight.
He spoke.
The lady translated,
"He says that the warrior of the great green tree.
He was yours?"
I nodded slowly. His eyes searched my face and suddenly a fierce and
deadly looked passed into his eyes.
"You are mine now."He said in my own language.
I gasped. "I do not want to be yours."
His gripped my shoulders now and I knew that I could not escape.
I became his slave. Unlike the beautiful lady I was not given robes of honor.
Nor was I given red gold slave bands.
I was given steel slave bands on my ankles and wrists.
Like the pale boy I was to sleep in his own tent.
We went across the seas.
We floated on the icy waters of slate.
Soon we crossed into the strange lands,
warm with the hint of spring.
I lived and soon I loved.
Spring came into the black depths of my heart.
The chasm of bitterness and loss
burst with the firm green shoots of passion.
My master took pride in his spoils.
He would parade me in front of the other blue bloods.
They would watch me
sing and dance.
I fell in love with a comrade at arms of my masters.
He was a landless knight. A knight with no ties to anything
except maybe his family.
And so I danced for him. And so we loved.
Master found out and gave me to him.
Yet that did not stop the jealousy of the other warriors.
Why does the Commandant favor him with a prize slave,"
they all grumbled. And they plotted.
The plotting led to his downfall
and then I was blamed. His great blood spotted my hands.
My new master said he was suspect of my innocence
and so he turned me out.
He gave me my freedom.
And so I am. I am adrift again with no one and nothing.
Except the Goddess's favor to keep me alive...
Giselle's voice held out the husky note. She could not keep on with the tale without incriminating herself or the people of the country. So she ended her tale to eyes that glistened with unshed tears and streaks of peach showing through the white mask of many courtiers.
"A heart wrenching song, my dear," said the King warmly. "I thoroughly enjoyed your descriptions of the battlefield. Not bloody enough to haunt us nor too gentle to make us forget the war." The King smiled at her.
IN the time in which she bowed her reverence to the royal sovereigns, the courtiers occupied themselves by fixing their powdered faces and predicting her popularity in the Court.
"She will be quite well requested. She has a wonderfully well trained wit and an amusing tone of voice." declared a women with a pink powdered wig on. This was one of Lady Azalea's great friends. She made up for her obvious lack of style with a great loyalty and unswerving faith in her friend.
So she obviously would laud Azalea's apprentice. But for some odd instinctual reason Duchess Maeve, had a way of be unerringly right in her predictions. She had not mind you, commented on her voice. Maeve had commented on her wit and humor.
"Oh indeed." Answered Maeve's younger lover, a man with dark hair and looks to match his name, Corby. "She also has a luscious body and a pretty voice...Not my lady that she is more beautiful than you." he said gazing adoringly at the bewigged matron who blushed and giggled.
Giselle slowly after overhearing that exchange from the discord of beautiful voices thrown together in such a melee went to find a secluded spot.
Court had found another creature to which it bestowed its attention to and Giselle crept out of the throne room to a boy's soprano lifted in exultation of the beauty of a Winter morning. She traversed the random hallways and corridors of the palace looking for a small spot in which she would be easily found by Azalea but also secluded enough to relax in.
It was on the second floor off a large hallway. It was a small room in which there was a fountain in a corner and scattered chairs and benches. It had large windows and mirrors to let in and magnify the light. She supposed it was a sewing closet for the ladies of the court.
She relaxed and sat down on the long black marble bench. Allowing herself to slouch for a minute she pondered what to do for the long period of awaiting Lady Azalea.
She shrugged and throwing her legs out on either side of her she started to stretch out her legs and hips.
Intensely concentrating on her left calf muscle and lower back she did not notice her visitor. When she turned to stretch out her right calf did she notice the tall and handsome man in front of her.
Blushing she folded her legs together and pulled her skirts down over her legs. To think that a man had seen her so wantonly displaying her legs and she was not dancing.
After quite along time of awkward silence she furtively glanced up at the man. He looked strangely familiar, the strong nose and full lips brought back memories of dancing.
"Helidoro?" she asked tentatively.
Well... this is nice. Oh yes and the Winter Olympics are on. They take up so much TV time. But They are the best ever. I Love Ice skating and ice dancing. R and R (which does not mean Rest and Relaxation.)
