My gratitude to reviewers! I do appreciate all comments, and I can see where you're coming from--I AM going to give her a personality, never fear! (It doesn't hurt to remind me, though. ^_^) My goal with Lianne's apparent imperfection was to reveal her self-insecurities, so she can evolve into a dynamic, as opposed to a perfect static, character (it's like her own opinions are coloring my narrative...that happens a bit in this section, too, I suppose), but I guess I didn't do a very good job of it. To answer Mage Melery's question, when Padraig commented on the impropriety of a LADY (sorry I have to keep writing in caps, but as I'm rather incompetent with computers, I have no idea how to carry over bold or italics to ff.net from Word)...where was I? Oh, yes, when he spoke of a lady sitting at the table, he meant a noble lady of the court; Lianne, by this conservative's definition, is a lady trained at the convent with that end in mind, while any female squires or pages to
him would be, well, squires or pages. Being the aforementioned hard-headed conservative that he is, Padraig still doesn't deem it "right" for a noble-lady-of-the-court to sit with squires. I'm positive there are girl pages and squires in there somewhere, and despite any of his misgivings, Padraig treats them equal to the guys. WHEW!!! What a speech. Sorry `bout that. ^_^ Alright, to the story...And I apologize for the cliff-hanger, mostly since the second part isn't that exciting; I only stopped where I did because it was the beginning of a new scene...I bet you were expecting some evil convent nemesis or insane stalker or another terribly fascinating character. Sorry to disappoint you...Oh yes, and I own nothing.
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"Father?" Lianne whispered weakly. Immediately smoothing her dress, her mind flicked from image to image of her former plans for this first meeting that were quickly withering. Lianne swept a deep curtsy and stared at the floor.
"Please rise, Lianne," the king said with a chuckle, standing himself. "You don't have to curtsy here, just the two of us. Either Lady haMinch has a greater talent for brainwashing than I'd expected, or"--he sighed--"it's been too long since I've seen you."
"It's not Lady haMinch, well, at least not much," Lianne replied, smiling shyly. "I wanted to make a good impression. As you said, it's been a long time."
"And you have." Her father gathered her into a tight hug, which she returned tearfully; surpassing any of her expectations, Lianne had been greeted with astonishing acceptance and love.
"Tonight," Jonathan continued, "a ball, following your official introduction to court, will be held to celebrate your return."
"A ball? For me?" Lianne echoed in disbelief. Despite her original thrill at a ball--and in her HONOR, no less!--she soon realized that not everyone would appreciate her graceless, splendorless entrance, and Lianne doubted she could stand a crowd of disappointed courtiers. Shaking her head, she formulated an excuse quickly, "I really don't have anything to wear..."
Laughing, her father responded in mock chastisement, "Don't try that with me; if you let shyness handicap you, Lianne, you won't get anywhere as a princess." As if reading her mind, he said, "The only way you would disappoint anyone would be if you withdrew, a hermit, into your chambers and avoided these kind of events."
After a brief pause of affirmation, Lianne ducked her head in agreement. "Alright," she consented. "But I still have nothing to wear."
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"Don't ye even dare move!" scolded the hairdresser, slapping the inquisitive hand that approached Lianne's somehow curled hair. Sullenly, Lianne retreated to slouching in her chair; it had been at least over an hour, yet she had not moved an inch. For the first time in her life, she was thankful that her hair was famously unalterable in its flat state, thus was not forced to suffer this kind of tribulation regularly.
Intrepidly, Lianne ventured a nonchalant finger to cautiously twirl one spiral strand, only to be smacked again.
"I've been th' royal coiffeur fer near over twenty `ears," the hairdresser interjected firmly, "and I `ave no qualms about slappin' th' li'l royal children when they're interferin' wiv my art." As Lianne nodded in solemn consent, the older woman pronounced, "Yer done, finally. Ye've th' most stubborn `air I've ever seen, but yer done. Quite beautiful, if I do say so meself."
"Thank you," Lianne murmured in amazement, meaning both the compliment and for the stunning work. "It's been a long time since my hair has experienced anything but limp."
"I imagine," replied the woman with a smile. "Now, child, I'll get yer face paint, though it's not me expertise." She proceeded to powder Lianne's face with a light layer of dried egg white, rosy her cheeks with crushed red petals, and color her shining eyes with a darker crimson of clay paint. (a/n: can you tell I enjoy details?) A stunning ruby paint for her small lips completed the magnificent ensemble of hair, face paint, and--of course--dress. The finest thing she had ever laid eyes upon in her life, Lianne's scarlet gown featured a high bodice inlaid with swirling golden designs, from which flowed her heavy velvet skirt and her long, billowing velvet sleeves. Over the dress she donned a thin, gold, clasp-less overcoat that, as she stood from her frozen position with stiff muscles, trailed behind her in a graceful train.
Careful not to disturb the mass of curls that cascaded down from their pinned-up station, Lianne strolled slowly to the door, where she was met by another servant.
"To the Great Stair and the Queen's ballroom," he told her, bowing.
Uncontrollably nervous yet intensely exited, Lianne nodded and followed him to her introduction.
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I know it's very short (I believe the author's note is longer than the story today!) and very tedious, but I hope things will take a turn for the more interesting. Also, I apologize for all the "Pretty Dress" details and everything; I can get pretty carried away. ^_^ Thanks for reading!
him would be, well, squires or pages. Being the aforementioned hard-headed conservative that he is, Padraig still doesn't deem it "right" for a noble-lady-of-the-court to sit with squires. I'm positive there are girl pages and squires in there somewhere, and despite any of his misgivings, Padraig treats them equal to the guys. WHEW!!! What a speech. Sorry `bout that. ^_^ Alright, to the story...And I apologize for the cliff-hanger, mostly since the second part isn't that exciting; I only stopped where I did because it was the beginning of a new scene...I bet you were expecting some evil convent nemesis or insane stalker or another terribly fascinating character. Sorry to disappoint you...Oh yes, and I own nothing.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
"Father?" Lianne whispered weakly. Immediately smoothing her dress, her mind flicked from image to image of her former plans for this first meeting that were quickly withering. Lianne swept a deep curtsy and stared at the floor.
"Please rise, Lianne," the king said with a chuckle, standing himself. "You don't have to curtsy here, just the two of us. Either Lady haMinch has a greater talent for brainwashing than I'd expected, or"--he sighed--"it's been too long since I've seen you."
"It's not Lady haMinch, well, at least not much," Lianne replied, smiling shyly. "I wanted to make a good impression. As you said, it's been a long time."
"And you have." Her father gathered her into a tight hug, which she returned tearfully; surpassing any of her expectations, Lianne had been greeted with astonishing acceptance and love.
"Tonight," Jonathan continued, "a ball, following your official introduction to court, will be held to celebrate your return."
"A ball? For me?" Lianne echoed in disbelief. Despite her original thrill at a ball--and in her HONOR, no less!--she soon realized that not everyone would appreciate her graceless, splendorless entrance, and Lianne doubted she could stand a crowd of disappointed courtiers. Shaking her head, she formulated an excuse quickly, "I really don't have anything to wear..."
Laughing, her father responded in mock chastisement, "Don't try that with me; if you let shyness handicap you, Lianne, you won't get anywhere as a princess." As if reading her mind, he said, "The only way you would disappoint anyone would be if you withdrew, a hermit, into your chambers and avoided these kind of events."
After a brief pause of affirmation, Lianne ducked her head in agreement. "Alright," she consented. "But I still have nothing to wear."
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
"Don't ye even dare move!" scolded the hairdresser, slapping the inquisitive hand that approached Lianne's somehow curled hair. Sullenly, Lianne retreated to slouching in her chair; it had been at least over an hour, yet she had not moved an inch. For the first time in her life, she was thankful that her hair was famously unalterable in its flat state, thus was not forced to suffer this kind of tribulation regularly.
Intrepidly, Lianne ventured a nonchalant finger to cautiously twirl one spiral strand, only to be smacked again.
"I've been th' royal coiffeur fer near over twenty `ears," the hairdresser interjected firmly, "and I `ave no qualms about slappin' th' li'l royal children when they're interferin' wiv my art." As Lianne nodded in solemn consent, the older woman pronounced, "Yer done, finally. Ye've th' most stubborn `air I've ever seen, but yer done. Quite beautiful, if I do say so meself."
"Thank you," Lianne murmured in amazement, meaning both the compliment and for the stunning work. "It's been a long time since my hair has experienced anything but limp."
"I imagine," replied the woman with a smile. "Now, child, I'll get yer face paint, though it's not me expertise." She proceeded to powder Lianne's face with a light layer of dried egg white, rosy her cheeks with crushed red petals, and color her shining eyes with a darker crimson of clay paint. (a/n: can you tell I enjoy details?) A stunning ruby paint for her small lips completed the magnificent ensemble of hair, face paint, and--of course--dress. The finest thing she had ever laid eyes upon in her life, Lianne's scarlet gown featured a high bodice inlaid with swirling golden designs, from which flowed her heavy velvet skirt and her long, billowing velvet sleeves. Over the dress she donned a thin, gold, clasp-less overcoat that, as she stood from her frozen position with stiff muscles, trailed behind her in a graceful train.
Careful not to disturb the mass of curls that cascaded down from their pinned-up station, Lianne strolled slowly to the door, where she was met by another servant.
"To the Great Stair and the Queen's ballroom," he told her, bowing.
Uncontrollably nervous yet intensely exited, Lianne nodded and followed him to her introduction.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
I know it's very short (I believe the author's note is longer than the story today!) and very tedious, but I hope things will take a turn for the more interesting. Also, I apologize for all the "Pretty Dress" details and everything; I can get pretty carried away. ^_^ Thanks for reading!