The Pink Harlequin
The Harlequin
"And sir, if you think about it, true love; it really does exist. Truly! I've seen it myself!" The chattering young brunette man did not notice that the one he was speaking to was hardly listening. "Sir, yessirree, I've had it myself! You know that court lady, the one in the purple gown? The gaudy one? Well, I fell in love with her, and it's true!"
"Oh really? Hmm, how interesting," Lord Yamato replied absentmindedly. "Fascinating." He fiddled with the tassel on his epaulet. He hated it when fools like the courtier next to him chattered incessantly about trivial nonsense like who-liked-whom and who-dumped-who-the-day-before. Idiots. All of them, really! Ha, true love, indeed.
"Sir, are you listening?" That idiotic man finally comprehended that Lord Yamato was not listening at all. "Please, this is necessary knowledge!"
"Hmm, as necessary as the number of hairs on a jackass's bottom," Yamato grumbled quietly.
"Oh, sir, you'd better sign these papers," A squat page ran over to Yamato. "They're treaty papers with Spain."
"Spain, you say?" Yamato inquired suspiciously. Since when did Spain decide to be a friend to France? "What about the king? Does he approve?"
"The thing is, he, um, is not around to sign them."
"What?"
"Because of the reason that you are next in line, as the king's first cousin, due to his barren wife, we have decided to let you deal with this."
"Oh?"
"Um, the king is, as I, um, said, not around."
"Stop with the um's!! Get to the point already!" Yamato was getting extremely close to kicking the page out of the Council Room.
"Lord Yamato, the king has disappeared."
"WHAT?!" Yamato was furious. Couldn't that stupid king take enough care of himself to prevent getting kidnapped?! He had bodyguards, didn't he? "How the hell did THAT happen?"
"It should be stated in these important papers." The short, fat, ugly page handed a bunch of official-looking papers to the young lord. Yamato angrily snatched them, and scanned the words on the twenty papers.
"Damn it, those Spaniards have kidnapped our king, and they demand a ransom." Raising his voice so that all sitting in the spacious Council Room could hear, Lord Yamato announced the unfortunate truth. "They wish for an alliance against England."
"But that's not possible! WE'RE allied with England!" A sharp, curt voice echoed in the room.
"Yes, I know, and those Spaniards know that they will not be able to defeat England and France if they are joined together." Wearily Yamato replied, rubbing his temple.
"Why do they want us to fight with them anyway?" Another voice added to the discussion.
"Most likely to use our resources, o Genius One." Yamato was truly not in the mood for kindness.
"And they wish for a marriage alliance as well."
"Yes... the Spanish Crown Princess, with me."
"You are both the same age, you know. And I've seen her in paintings. She's absolutely angelically beautiful!!!" The bothersome courtier from before butted in, not minding his own business. This time he's trying to fit in into state affairs, eh? Yamato thought to himself, irritated.
"So what do you propose we do?" Somebody asked of the young blond Lord Yamato.
"Reject their offer."
"But they'll fight against us!!"
"So? We've got England to back us up, and we to back them up."
"Oh...... damn."
Again the annoying court man did not mind his own business. "Oh!! I forgot to mention!!! I just ordered a new painting of you, Sir!!" All eyes turned to him, glaring. He did not even notice, but plunged on. "It's very expensive, but so wonderful! I've already seen the start of it!!!"
"Pierre, would you mind leaving?" Yamato broke in.
"But sir, I..."
"Now."
Dejected, Pierre dragged himself away, hanging his elegantly wavy hair with shame. However, as Yamato turned away to speak to his fellow Council members, he could hear an excited yelling. Pierre the Fop ran back, eyes wide. He yelled, although Yamato was right next to him by the door, "Guess what, Sir? The guards, they're bringing a prisoner in!!! She's supposed to be in the dungeon, but insisted on seeing you, Sir! And she's a..."
"Did you say a female prisoner?" For the second time Yamato cut his personal servant off. "Tell the guards I'll be meeting them in the Great Hall, with the girl." Before he got out of the door, he turned to his anxiously waiting companions and spoke. "I'll be back in a bit. Do please hold on for a few minutes or so."
As he walked towards the Great Hall, Lord Yamato could hear a girlish screaming. He quickened his pace, worried that the guards were mistreating the child.
"Let go of me, you-you-UGH!!! Let go, stupid dimwits! Morons! Nincompoops! Halfwits! Peabrains!! Damn blockheads!" Yamato shook with silent laughter. What a spirit, what a spirit. He liked an interesting personality. And interesting language as well.
"Let go of her," he commanded. The guards abruptly stopped harassing the girl, and once they stepped aside, Yamato's eyes widened. Apparently the prisoner wasn't a girl. It was a young lady his age. She had lovely light brown hair, shining with pink light, that would have reached just a bit below her shoulders if they weren't pinned up with white bows in two separate pigtails, curled. Painted on one of her cheeks was a platinum-white diamond. Obviously she was a harlequin. He could tell from her outfit, too. It had large, but ripped, billowing sleeves of pale pink gauze, and her bodice was a darker shade of rose, most likely silk, that was rather tight on her willowy waist. Down the front of her bodice were white ivory buttons, and a white jester-like skirt that protruded out from her body like flower petals covered her rear. Her once-white stockings, but now torn in many different places and soiled, too, covered her slender legs. Dainty, dusty black cloth shoes with curled, pointed toes adorned her delicate feet. Dark ruby-brown eyes glittered with mingled defiance and fear at him beneath deep lashes. Yamato took a step back.
"Would somebody mind explaining to me why this girl is in this condition?" He questioned. "And why were you harassing her?"
"Sir, she refused to greet you in the Guest Parlor. She, disobedient child, insisted on seeing you right then and there. So the only thing we could do was to drag her away." The bulkiest one of the guards answered him. Speaking in a very quiet voice, he added, "Besides, she kicked me in the shin," with a sniffle.
Lord Yamato rolled his eyes exasperatedly. He snapped, "Well, you had no reason to drag her to the prison!" After a moment of apprehensive silence from the guards, he sighed, "Fine, I'll take care of her. Go on to the front gate, to your posts. I'm not in the mood for this kind of brawl."
"Ha, I don't need your help! I'm an independent harlequin, seeking work for entertaining the royal court of France!" The pink harlequin exclaimed as soon as the guards were out of earshot. "Besides, who are you?"
"High Lord Yamato Ishida, first cousin to the king of France," he said, nearly chiding her for speaking to him in such a manner. She spoke as if they were equals, which they weren't. She, a mere harlequin, should not have been speaking like that to one of the highest-ranking men in the country! "And who are you?"
"Hotaru Matsumura, jester," she replied, bowing deeply to him with a flourish. In spite of his annoyance, Yamato smiled for the first time that day. Helping her to dust off her travel-worn costume, he remarked, "You're an interesting one, Hotaru. Why don't you stay in the guest room of the west wing for this week? With all the events that have been going on, I've decided that us courtiers need some comic relief now and then. So, you're welcome to entertain us as long as you like."
"Oh, that's good!" As she smiled, Yamato nearly blushed. Of all the women he had seen in his life, she was the most beautiful. And a commoner, too! An ordinary harlequin! No, not an ordinary one. She treated him as if they were on equal ground. As if class and status did not matter at all. The way Yamato felt as the young woman spoke was beyond description. It was like a burden was being lifted off of his shoulders.
"Well, after you've changed into something else, meet me in the Council Room, alright? The servants will show you the way." Giving her a brief smile, Yamato walked away back to the previous discussion in the grand Council Room.
Even as Lord Yamato went around the corner and out of sight, Hotaru watched with sad eyes, shaking her head and holding back something, nearly giving a sniffle. Then she turned and ran towards what she assumed was the west wing.
Author's note: So, er, feedback? This is my first Digimon fic, so EXCUZEZ-MOI if it sucks! Also, since this is an alternate-universe fic, taking place in Renaissance/late 1500's France, I've mingled European names together with Japanese names. Hey, this is my world and fic, non? ^_^ I hope it's not that bad...
Oh yeah, the characters of Digimon in this fic do not belong to me. And I've ditched the Digital Monsters. This is basically a Mimato, okay? Adding in the Digital Monsters would ruin the whole plot of my fic!!! (yes, I know exactly what I'm doing!)
The Harlequin
"And sir, if you think about it, true love; it really does exist. Truly! I've seen it myself!" The chattering young brunette man did not notice that the one he was speaking to was hardly listening. "Sir, yessirree, I've had it myself! You know that court lady, the one in the purple gown? The gaudy one? Well, I fell in love with her, and it's true!"
"Oh really? Hmm, how interesting," Lord Yamato replied absentmindedly. "Fascinating." He fiddled with the tassel on his epaulet. He hated it when fools like the courtier next to him chattered incessantly about trivial nonsense like who-liked-whom and who-dumped-who-the-day-before. Idiots. All of them, really! Ha, true love, indeed.
"Sir, are you listening?" That idiotic man finally comprehended that Lord Yamato was not listening at all. "Please, this is necessary knowledge!"
"Hmm, as necessary as the number of hairs on a jackass's bottom," Yamato grumbled quietly.
"Oh, sir, you'd better sign these papers," A squat page ran over to Yamato. "They're treaty papers with Spain."
"Spain, you say?" Yamato inquired suspiciously. Since when did Spain decide to be a friend to France? "What about the king? Does he approve?"
"The thing is, he, um, is not around to sign them."
"What?"
"Because of the reason that you are next in line, as the king's first cousin, due to his barren wife, we have decided to let you deal with this."
"Oh?"
"Um, the king is, as I, um, said, not around."
"Stop with the um's!! Get to the point already!" Yamato was getting extremely close to kicking the page out of the Council Room.
"Lord Yamato, the king has disappeared."
"WHAT?!" Yamato was furious. Couldn't that stupid king take enough care of himself to prevent getting kidnapped?! He had bodyguards, didn't he? "How the hell did THAT happen?"
"It should be stated in these important papers." The short, fat, ugly page handed a bunch of official-looking papers to the young lord. Yamato angrily snatched them, and scanned the words on the twenty papers.
"Damn it, those Spaniards have kidnapped our king, and they demand a ransom." Raising his voice so that all sitting in the spacious Council Room could hear, Lord Yamato announced the unfortunate truth. "They wish for an alliance against England."
"But that's not possible! WE'RE allied with England!" A sharp, curt voice echoed in the room.
"Yes, I know, and those Spaniards know that they will not be able to defeat England and France if they are joined together." Wearily Yamato replied, rubbing his temple.
"Why do they want us to fight with them anyway?" Another voice added to the discussion.
"Most likely to use our resources, o Genius One." Yamato was truly not in the mood for kindness.
"And they wish for a marriage alliance as well."
"Yes... the Spanish Crown Princess, with me."
"You are both the same age, you know. And I've seen her in paintings. She's absolutely angelically beautiful!!!" The bothersome courtier from before butted in, not minding his own business. This time he's trying to fit in into state affairs, eh? Yamato thought to himself, irritated.
"So what do you propose we do?" Somebody asked of the young blond Lord Yamato.
"Reject their offer."
"But they'll fight against us!!"
"So? We've got England to back us up, and we to back them up."
"Oh...... damn."
Again the annoying court man did not mind his own business. "Oh!! I forgot to mention!!! I just ordered a new painting of you, Sir!!" All eyes turned to him, glaring. He did not even notice, but plunged on. "It's very expensive, but so wonderful! I've already seen the start of it!!!"
"Pierre, would you mind leaving?" Yamato broke in.
"But sir, I..."
"Now."
Dejected, Pierre dragged himself away, hanging his elegantly wavy hair with shame. However, as Yamato turned away to speak to his fellow Council members, he could hear an excited yelling. Pierre the Fop ran back, eyes wide. He yelled, although Yamato was right next to him by the door, "Guess what, Sir? The guards, they're bringing a prisoner in!!! She's supposed to be in the dungeon, but insisted on seeing you, Sir! And she's a..."
"Did you say a female prisoner?" For the second time Yamato cut his personal servant off. "Tell the guards I'll be meeting them in the Great Hall, with the girl." Before he got out of the door, he turned to his anxiously waiting companions and spoke. "I'll be back in a bit. Do please hold on for a few minutes or so."
As he walked towards the Great Hall, Lord Yamato could hear a girlish screaming. He quickened his pace, worried that the guards were mistreating the child.
"Let go of me, you-you-UGH!!! Let go, stupid dimwits! Morons! Nincompoops! Halfwits! Peabrains!! Damn blockheads!" Yamato shook with silent laughter. What a spirit, what a spirit. He liked an interesting personality. And interesting language as well.
"Let go of her," he commanded. The guards abruptly stopped harassing the girl, and once they stepped aside, Yamato's eyes widened. Apparently the prisoner wasn't a girl. It was a young lady his age. She had lovely light brown hair, shining with pink light, that would have reached just a bit below her shoulders if they weren't pinned up with white bows in two separate pigtails, curled. Painted on one of her cheeks was a platinum-white diamond. Obviously she was a harlequin. He could tell from her outfit, too. It had large, but ripped, billowing sleeves of pale pink gauze, and her bodice was a darker shade of rose, most likely silk, that was rather tight on her willowy waist. Down the front of her bodice were white ivory buttons, and a white jester-like skirt that protruded out from her body like flower petals covered her rear. Her once-white stockings, but now torn in many different places and soiled, too, covered her slender legs. Dainty, dusty black cloth shoes with curled, pointed toes adorned her delicate feet. Dark ruby-brown eyes glittered with mingled defiance and fear at him beneath deep lashes. Yamato took a step back.
"Would somebody mind explaining to me why this girl is in this condition?" He questioned. "And why were you harassing her?"
"Sir, she refused to greet you in the Guest Parlor. She, disobedient child, insisted on seeing you right then and there. So the only thing we could do was to drag her away." The bulkiest one of the guards answered him. Speaking in a very quiet voice, he added, "Besides, she kicked me in the shin," with a sniffle.
Lord Yamato rolled his eyes exasperatedly. He snapped, "Well, you had no reason to drag her to the prison!" After a moment of apprehensive silence from the guards, he sighed, "Fine, I'll take care of her. Go on to the front gate, to your posts. I'm not in the mood for this kind of brawl."
"Ha, I don't need your help! I'm an independent harlequin, seeking work for entertaining the royal court of France!" The pink harlequin exclaimed as soon as the guards were out of earshot. "Besides, who are you?"
"High Lord Yamato Ishida, first cousin to the king of France," he said, nearly chiding her for speaking to him in such a manner. She spoke as if they were equals, which they weren't. She, a mere harlequin, should not have been speaking like that to one of the highest-ranking men in the country! "And who are you?"
"Hotaru Matsumura, jester," she replied, bowing deeply to him with a flourish. In spite of his annoyance, Yamato smiled for the first time that day. Helping her to dust off her travel-worn costume, he remarked, "You're an interesting one, Hotaru. Why don't you stay in the guest room of the west wing for this week? With all the events that have been going on, I've decided that us courtiers need some comic relief now and then. So, you're welcome to entertain us as long as you like."
"Oh, that's good!" As she smiled, Yamato nearly blushed. Of all the women he had seen in his life, she was the most beautiful. And a commoner, too! An ordinary harlequin! No, not an ordinary one. She treated him as if they were on equal ground. As if class and status did not matter at all. The way Yamato felt as the young woman spoke was beyond description. It was like a burden was being lifted off of his shoulders.
"Well, after you've changed into something else, meet me in the Council Room, alright? The servants will show you the way." Giving her a brief smile, Yamato walked away back to the previous discussion in the grand Council Room.
Even as Lord Yamato went around the corner and out of sight, Hotaru watched with sad eyes, shaking her head and holding back something, nearly giving a sniffle. Then she turned and ran towards what she assumed was the west wing.
Author's note: So, er, feedback? This is my first Digimon fic, so EXCUZEZ-MOI if it sucks! Also, since this is an alternate-universe fic, taking place in Renaissance/late 1500's France, I've mingled European names together with Japanese names. Hey, this is my world and fic, non? ^_^ I hope it's not that bad...
Oh yeah, the characters of Digimon in this fic do not belong to me. And I've ditched the Digital Monsters. This is basically a Mimato, okay? Adding in the Digital Monsters would ruin the whole plot of my fic!!! (yes, I know exactly what I'm doing!)