Chapter 1

Author's Note: Jocelyn. In every A Knight's Tale fanfic, generally speaking, we all run into this very annoying women whose creation is a mystery to all. There are those who hate her and those who are indifferent. I do not know of any who like her. As for me, I'm in the indifferent category, because while I don't care for her, I don't care ABOUT her enough to hate her. For simplicity's sake, I have given her the benefit of the doubt in this story and I hope you will forgive me.

Chaucer leaned back in his chair until he could rest his feet comfortably on his desk and stared at the many pages of worn paper scattered around him. It had taken a long time to write this story. Longer, indeed, than any other previous work had taken him. It had been painful, too. Far more painful than he'd expected it to be, even though he'd known it would be hard to write from the first word. Actually, he wasn't sure, staring at it, that he'd even share it with the others.
They have a right to know, a voice inside him said.
And I have a right not show it to them, he answered, out loud.
Bruises and bumps experienced down Memory Lane had proven to be much more painful than they'd been on the Road of Life, not they hadn't been felt the first time around. A fall from glory, he'd learned, could happen to anyone. Even Sir William Thatcher of Cheapside. Each of them, Will, Roland, Wat, Kate, himself, Jocelyn, Christiana, and his wife, Penelope, had had to learn that the hard way.
Hard isn't the right word, the voice spoke up again. Brutal, agonizing, heart-wrenching, take your pick. But don't belittle the experience by saying that it was merely HARD.
Right, right, right. Brutal, agonizing, heart-wrenching, he muttered, now moving his feet off the desk and letting the chair fall back to it's normal position. All the more reason not to show it to them. He began organizing the papers as he spoke. Really, though, I wouldn't be showing it to them, I'd be reading it to them since Will, Wat, and Roland still don't know how to read, for the most part, and by the time I'd be done with the whole brouhaha, Will would have stormed out of the house, the girls would be in tears, lord only knows how the children would deal with it, especially poor Lance, and Wat would have punched me until I couldn't see. No. I'm not going to read it. I've written it all down, gotten it all out of my system, and now it's going in one of the back drawers where I'll never look at it again.
I don't think you've really gotten it out of your system, Chaucer. Take a good look at your hands and ask yourself exactly why they're shaking like a leaf.
I've been up for three days straight finishing this, he said, his voice rising to a much higher pitch than usual. And that's why they're shaking.
You want to know something, Geoff?
Chaucer jumped as Wat's voice floated through the door.
What, Wat?
You're a lanky git.
With a roll of his eyes, he asked And what, pray tell, is the other news from the far land of just-beyond-the-door?
The door banged open, and Wat stood there, eyes glinting with characteristic anger, and cheeks flushed from the heat of the kitchen.
You're holding dinner, that's the news.
What do you mean I'm holding dinner. I explicitly said that I eat so much food around here that I could go without for a week and not be hungry, so don't feed me for awhile, and it's been-
Three days. And Kate's worried about you. You haven't been talking much for the last few months and you've been camping out in your room without Penelope. The least you could do for us is bloody have a mea- he stopped suddenly, catching sight of the paper gathered in Chaucer's arms. His gaze snapped quickly around the room to the desk, the floor, the bed all littered with scribbled paper. Wat looked at up at Geoff again, a deadly calm about.
he said, backing several paces and clutching the paper to him.
Wat said.
Wat, I'm warning you-
Have been working on something.
Wat, it's not done. i don't want to show it you. You. Don't. Realize. What. This. Is.
Wat clearly did not think he was serious. Just as he always did whenever he caught Chaucer with a manuscript, he grabbed him by the collar and dragged him, protesting all the way, through the door and into the dining room.
Hello, world, Wat announced with his usual introduction. Geoff had discovered some years ago that Wat had a natural talent for all things theatrical. Much to chagrin, he had taught and encouraged him. I have the privilege of informing you- a small sea of expectant faces were now gazing at him. that our friend Geoffrey has something he would like to show us all. Several coughs greeted this announcement. It was obvious to all those witnessing that, far from wanting to show them something, Geoff often wanted desperately to be back in his bedroom, revising.
Well now that he's dragged you out, let's hear it, Master Nude, Roland called cheerfully, having never quite let go of the awful nickname.
Oh, Roland. He was only ever nude in your presence three times, and mostly by accident.
Believe me I know, my dear Penelope, but some habits are beyond giving up.
Kate called, bringing in the dinner and setting roasted pig on the table. Lets hear the story.
Will's daughter, Phoebe, said while setting down some rolls. Lets have it around dinner. She and Kate sat down.
Lance spoke up, running a hand through his bright red hair. My curiosity is piqued.
I'm-I'm really not sure- he didn't know what to say. This couldn't be happening. Why'd he even write the stupid thing? They'd all tried to forget the last few years and now he'd bring it back in full force. He'd left nothing out. They'd hate him.
The final votes are in, Christiana spoke up. We all want to hear it. Sit down and read the thing.
He obeyed, but only to hide the fact that his legs were starting to shake.
he began, and then sipped some water to ease the dryness of his throat and mouth. Are you all really sure-
came the simultaneous answer.
All right. Fine. But I warn you that this is not going to be pretty. I am completely sorry to inform you all that this very woeful and absolutely true story is called- he took a deep breath. The Children's Tale.