All right, I know it's been awhile, and it'll probably be longer from this
chapter to the next. I'm super-loaded with homework, projects, and—do I
dare say the word?—finals. *shudders* So here it is. A nice long one to
tide you over. ^_^
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Lianne hugged the pillow tightly close to her chest, wearing the same bright smile that she had worn since two whole nights ago. All credits were due to Branten—the crown prince of Tusaine, she had discovered—who was still incessantly charming and chivalrous. In his company she had attended the uniquely multi-cultural festivities only found at the Games, such as Yamani firedancers, Carthaki acrobats, and Scanran drama—yes, such a thing did exist, and for all the improbability of the idea, it was genuinely admirable, if slightly and unintentionally humorous.
More than the exotic displays, though, for she could've enjoyed them with any accompaniment, Lianne delighted in spending time with gentlemanly Branten. Always on the tip of his tongue was a compliment or amusing offhand comment, at which times she was reminded of Julian. But Branten seemed more flattering, more outrageously cavalier, and, well, just…more. Besides, Julian was her best friend, not her romantic interest; after spending five months with Julian and getting along with him better than anyone else she had before, Lianne had long since concluded that she would never risk their friendship for any type of romantic relationship.
Glancing up at the clock, Lianne realized that it was past time to be bound for the first semi-final round of the Games. She quickly tucked her messy hair into a hair net and planted an unobtrusive crown on top of it, slipping on a skirt that wasn't as wrinkled as the one she wore. As she dashed out of her room, Lianne nearly plowed over a surprised Julian.
"Sorry, Julian!" she exclaimed, offering a hand to help him up. "What were you doing down here, anyway? I thought you promised to come to the semi- final."
"Quite all right," he assured her, grinning at the utterly ordinary mishap. "Yes, I was just heading up here to see if you were coming. Liam and I waited a good hour for you this morning, so I wasn't sure if you had fallen deathly ill or something of the like."
"Oh, no…" Lianne breathed. "I'm so sorry! I can't believe I forgot to meet you. Branten just showed up and I…" she trailed off.
"I'm not upset as long as you aren't deathly ill," Julian replied, "which I presume you're not. Branten, did you say?"
"Er, yes," she murmured, totally mortified. "He invited me to go to the Tusainian players' performance with him, and I, erm, just kind of completely forgot that I had plans with you and Liam."
"Well," Julian said briskly before an uncomfortable silence could ensue, "let's be off, then? You mustn't be late for your performance."
The competition was held in the large hall where Lianne's last qualifying round was held, giving her comfort with her surroundings and a sort of home ground advantage. Compared to the multitude now sitting in the stands on the sides of the hall, the considerable turnout of that earlier round seemed incredibly sparse. Lianne shuddered in dread at the thought of performing in front of all of them, then felt a squeeze of her hand.
"Good luck, Lianne," Julian whispered. "You'll do wonderfully, I'm sure."
"Thank you much," she whispered back. "At least I know you won't laugh when I confound the routine."
"Then Branten would laugh?" Julian inquired dryly.
Lianne turned sharply to ask what he meant, but he had gone to meet Liam in the stands without another word. Guessing that the empty seat in the row of contestant was hers, she sighed as she hurried over to take her place.
For some unknown reason, no one performed exceedingly in that round, leaving a clear passageway for Lianne. However, since she had never been one to contradict the general standard of the masses, Lianne's performance lacked any spectacular passion. As soon as she had finished, Lianne realized that it would be a miracle for her to make it to the next round; in the day's typical oddity, though, she squeaked by with scores that even she acknowledged were unfounded.
"So I suppose it's my turn to congratulate you?" The blonde Cerlinne appeared at Lianne's side once the semi-finals had officially closed. "Then congratulations. You certainly deserve it; Gods know my performance was atrocious. Still, I think those judges were a load of…oh, never mind. You don't care for curses, do you?"
"Er, thank you," Lianne replied. In a brilliant flash of wit, she added, "You weren't that awful."
"Only a bit awful?" Cerlinne shook her head. "Ah, but I admitted my own fault, so you are warranted with that comment."
Never sure how to respond to the erratic duchess, Lianne tried a smile, and to her relief Branten approached moments later.
"Cerlinne, some handsome young swain is asking for you back there," he informed her and motioned to the crowd near the stands. "Some dozen, really," he confided in Lianne, following the blonde's departure with masked blue eyes. "She's a natural-born charmer, men just can't help themselves." Branten smiled, radiant, at Lianne. "Much like yourself, Princess."
"Oh no, I'm sure not," Lianne denied, feeling her cheeks warm as they were apt to do in the Tusainian's presence.
"Then how do you explain this?" Branten asked. He bowed to her and offered his hand in assistance for her to stand. Tucking her hand, tiny in comparison to his muscled brawn, under his arm protectively, he led her to the exit.
"Lianne, would you care to accompany me to the Shang display tonight?" Branten murmured. "I'd like to speak to you about something."
"Er, yes…" Lianne replied curiously. "What is it?"
"Later, dear."
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Later. Two weeks, one round of the Games, and four Liam-tantrums later, Lianne still had no idea what Branten "would like to speak to her about." Each day of anticipation, her tension level had risen up to the present state of discomfort. She was inexpressibly grateful for tonight's dinner date with the prince, an excuse for both excellent company and a chance of revealing the mysterious conversation topic.
In those two weeks, she had grown closer and closer to him, noticeable through his casual use of "darling" and "dear" and their constant companionship.
Yet somehow, she still felt as if she hardly knew him, which was mostly true. Beyond his gallant cover—there had to be more to him than chivalry, he couldn't possibly always be the heroic charmer—Lianne had not caught a glimpse Branten's true character.
It was so easy to ignore these miniscule doubts, though! She was completely happy around him, and wasn't that all that mattered?
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
As she stared across the table into his beautiful blue eyes, every single of those doubts immediately fled from Lianne's consciousness.
Insisting on bringing her to the finest dining house in the city and declaring that they had entirely extinguished the palace's supply of finery in the last two weeks, Branten had secured truly the most elegant and beautiful that Lianne had ever attended.
"Will you now tell me whatever it was you wanted to tell me?" she said.
"Lianne…" Branten sighed. "I know that I haven't known you for very long, but…the time I've spent with you has been extraordinary. You are extraordinary." He sighed again. "This must be so incredibly sudden for you, but I just couldn't wait to ask you. I knew from the moment I met you, and I've tried to delay for your sake…"
In the corner of her mind, Lianne knew exactly what was coming.
"Dear Lianne…" Branten slid onto one knee on the floor and presented a huge ring. "Please, tell me you'll be my wife."
Despite any anticipation of the event, Lianne sat, stunned, staring blankly at him. Eventually she managed a squeak, which she turned into a stuttering reply: "Er, I…um…er…"
"I need you, Lianne," Branten urged, pleading.
"Yes, well," she mumbled, at last in control of her mouth and brain. "I see." Obviously not the response he was looking for. But did she want to marry him? Did she love him? "Why?" she asked in a businesslike manner.
"I would think it obvious." He searched her face with his azure eyes and cupped Lianne's pale cheek in his large hand. Pulling her down, he kissed her tenderly, his touch exploring and gentle.
Her first kiss. Ever. And it was the most lovely thing in her whole life. "I, erm…" she whispered after he had pulled away. Suddenly realizing the utter love and devotion that he stirred within her, she breathed, "Yes…"
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Striding lazily down the dim halls, Branten of Gerrend unbuttoned the cuffs of his expensively embroidered silk shirt. When he reached his large suite, he found the door unlocked. Entering, the handsome noble immediately recognized the cloying fragrance that hung in his rooms.
"Branten, where have you been?" demanded the comely blonde who looked up from his bed.
"Calm down, 'Linne," he soothed with a mocking grin, undressing. "The girl was a bit stubborn." He added scornfully, "She took a while to get over the shock of a male taking any interest in her." Pleased with himself, he smirked complacently. "But of course she agreed in the end."
Cerlinne groaned and drew him into bed. "I still think this whole matter is a bad idea. Isn't there another way?"
"Please, darling, leave planning to a man," Branten murmured, caressing her hair. "Don't worry your pretty head."
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Okay, the whole proposal thing was a bit sudden, but you really didn't want to read a whole bunch of filler just to get to know Branten better, did you? Well, I didn't feel like writing filler. Anyway, you should know his character much better by the last little section. ^_^ I love all y'all who review! Love ya lots!
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Lianne hugged the pillow tightly close to her chest, wearing the same bright smile that she had worn since two whole nights ago. All credits were due to Branten—the crown prince of Tusaine, she had discovered—who was still incessantly charming and chivalrous. In his company she had attended the uniquely multi-cultural festivities only found at the Games, such as Yamani firedancers, Carthaki acrobats, and Scanran drama—yes, such a thing did exist, and for all the improbability of the idea, it was genuinely admirable, if slightly and unintentionally humorous.
More than the exotic displays, though, for she could've enjoyed them with any accompaniment, Lianne delighted in spending time with gentlemanly Branten. Always on the tip of his tongue was a compliment or amusing offhand comment, at which times she was reminded of Julian. But Branten seemed more flattering, more outrageously cavalier, and, well, just…more. Besides, Julian was her best friend, not her romantic interest; after spending five months with Julian and getting along with him better than anyone else she had before, Lianne had long since concluded that she would never risk their friendship for any type of romantic relationship.
Glancing up at the clock, Lianne realized that it was past time to be bound for the first semi-final round of the Games. She quickly tucked her messy hair into a hair net and planted an unobtrusive crown on top of it, slipping on a skirt that wasn't as wrinkled as the one she wore. As she dashed out of her room, Lianne nearly plowed over a surprised Julian.
"Sorry, Julian!" she exclaimed, offering a hand to help him up. "What were you doing down here, anyway? I thought you promised to come to the semi- final."
"Quite all right," he assured her, grinning at the utterly ordinary mishap. "Yes, I was just heading up here to see if you were coming. Liam and I waited a good hour for you this morning, so I wasn't sure if you had fallen deathly ill or something of the like."
"Oh, no…" Lianne breathed. "I'm so sorry! I can't believe I forgot to meet you. Branten just showed up and I…" she trailed off.
"I'm not upset as long as you aren't deathly ill," Julian replied, "which I presume you're not. Branten, did you say?"
"Er, yes," she murmured, totally mortified. "He invited me to go to the Tusainian players' performance with him, and I, erm, just kind of completely forgot that I had plans with you and Liam."
"Well," Julian said briskly before an uncomfortable silence could ensue, "let's be off, then? You mustn't be late for your performance."
The competition was held in the large hall where Lianne's last qualifying round was held, giving her comfort with her surroundings and a sort of home ground advantage. Compared to the multitude now sitting in the stands on the sides of the hall, the considerable turnout of that earlier round seemed incredibly sparse. Lianne shuddered in dread at the thought of performing in front of all of them, then felt a squeeze of her hand.
"Good luck, Lianne," Julian whispered. "You'll do wonderfully, I'm sure."
"Thank you much," she whispered back. "At least I know you won't laugh when I confound the routine."
"Then Branten would laugh?" Julian inquired dryly.
Lianne turned sharply to ask what he meant, but he had gone to meet Liam in the stands without another word. Guessing that the empty seat in the row of contestant was hers, she sighed as she hurried over to take her place.
For some unknown reason, no one performed exceedingly in that round, leaving a clear passageway for Lianne. However, since she had never been one to contradict the general standard of the masses, Lianne's performance lacked any spectacular passion. As soon as she had finished, Lianne realized that it would be a miracle for her to make it to the next round; in the day's typical oddity, though, she squeaked by with scores that even she acknowledged were unfounded.
"So I suppose it's my turn to congratulate you?" The blonde Cerlinne appeared at Lianne's side once the semi-finals had officially closed. "Then congratulations. You certainly deserve it; Gods know my performance was atrocious. Still, I think those judges were a load of…oh, never mind. You don't care for curses, do you?"
"Er, thank you," Lianne replied. In a brilliant flash of wit, she added, "You weren't that awful."
"Only a bit awful?" Cerlinne shook her head. "Ah, but I admitted my own fault, so you are warranted with that comment."
Never sure how to respond to the erratic duchess, Lianne tried a smile, and to her relief Branten approached moments later.
"Cerlinne, some handsome young swain is asking for you back there," he informed her and motioned to the crowd near the stands. "Some dozen, really," he confided in Lianne, following the blonde's departure with masked blue eyes. "She's a natural-born charmer, men just can't help themselves." Branten smiled, radiant, at Lianne. "Much like yourself, Princess."
"Oh no, I'm sure not," Lianne denied, feeling her cheeks warm as they were apt to do in the Tusainian's presence.
"Then how do you explain this?" Branten asked. He bowed to her and offered his hand in assistance for her to stand. Tucking her hand, tiny in comparison to his muscled brawn, under his arm protectively, he led her to the exit.
"Lianne, would you care to accompany me to the Shang display tonight?" Branten murmured. "I'd like to speak to you about something."
"Er, yes…" Lianne replied curiously. "What is it?"
"Later, dear."
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Later. Two weeks, one round of the Games, and four Liam-tantrums later, Lianne still had no idea what Branten "would like to speak to her about." Each day of anticipation, her tension level had risen up to the present state of discomfort. She was inexpressibly grateful for tonight's dinner date with the prince, an excuse for both excellent company and a chance of revealing the mysterious conversation topic.
In those two weeks, she had grown closer and closer to him, noticeable through his casual use of "darling" and "dear" and their constant companionship.
Yet somehow, she still felt as if she hardly knew him, which was mostly true. Beyond his gallant cover—there had to be more to him than chivalry, he couldn't possibly always be the heroic charmer—Lianne had not caught a glimpse Branten's true character.
It was so easy to ignore these miniscule doubts, though! She was completely happy around him, and wasn't that all that mattered?
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
As she stared across the table into his beautiful blue eyes, every single of those doubts immediately fled from Lianne's consciousness.
Insisting on bringing her to the finest dining house in the city and declaring that they had entirely extinguished the palace's supply of finery in the last two weeks, Branten had secured truly the most elegant and beautiful that Lianne had ever attended.
"Will you now tell me whatever it was you wanted to tell me?" she said.
"Lianne…" Branten sighed. "I know that I haven't known you for very long, but…the time I've spent with you has been extraordinary. You are extraordinary." He sighed again. "This must be so incredibly sudden for you, but I just couldn't wait to ask you. I knew from the moment I met you, and I've tried to delay for your sake…"
In the corner of her mind, Lianne knew exactly what was coming.
"Dear Lianne…" Branten slid onto one knee on the floor and presented a huge ring. "Please, tell me you'll be my wife."
Despite any anticipation of the event, Lianne sat, stunned, staring blankly at him. Eventually she managed a squeak, which she turned into a stuttering reply: "Er, I…um…er…"
"I need you, Lianne," Branten urged, pleading.
"Yes, well," she mumbled, at last in control of her mouth and brain. "I see." Obviously not the response he was looking for. But did she want to marry him? Did she love him? "Why?" she asked in a businesslike manner.
"I would think it obvious." He searched her face with his azure eyes and cupped Lianne's pale cheek in his large hand. Pulling her down, he kissed her tenderly, his touch exploring and gentle.
Her first kiss. Ever. And it was the most lovely thing in her whole life. "I, erm…" she whispered after he had pulled away. Suddenly realizing the utter love and devotion that he stirred within her, she breathed, "Yes…"
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Striding lazily down the dim halls, Branten of Gerrend unbuttoned the cuffs of his expensively embroidered silk shirt. When he reached his large suite, he found the door unlocked. Entering, the handsome noble immediately recognized the cloying fragrance that hung in his rooms.
"Branten, where have you been?" demanded the comely blonde who looked up from his bed.
"Calm down, 'Linne," he soothed with a mocking grin, undressing. "The girl was a bit stubborn." He added scornfully, "She took a while to get over the shock of a male taking any interest in her." Pleased with himself, he smirked complacently. "But of course she agreed in the end."
Cerlinne groaned and drew him into bed. "I still think this whole matter is a bad idea. Isn't there another way?"
"Please, darling, leave planning to a man," Branten murmured, caressing her hair. "Don't worry your pretty head."
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Okay, the whole proposal thing was a bit sudden, but you really didn't want to read a whole bunch of filler just to get to know Branten better, did you? Well, I didn't feel like writing filler. Anyway, you should know his character much better by the last little section. ^_^ I love all y'all who review! Love ya lots!