Diary of a Sentimental
There's a bit of artistic license involved, but then again in what fic is there not?
Disclaimer: I own nothing and no one, too bad for me.
Here it is folks. The end. Short and sweet. Just a quick warning to you all, I'm keeping to the film so there's gonna be no happy ending in store for Chaucer! Hope its not too depressing though. Enjoy, and thank you all for all you're great reviews over the time I've been writing this, I've really enjoyed it!
Miss demeanour xx
* * *
Chapter 4 " To Set Free"
"Geoff, 'tis my lady" William's whispered voice broke into my thoughts as we led him into the arena. For a moment I could only look at him in stunned silence as he moved close toward me in order to keep our conversation private, before resolutely I turned to look at the place he was staring.
"Oh Jesu William! You aim too high" It was the only thing I could think of to say in such a situation, quite pointless although it may be. For I knew there was no target too high for this angel, and I knew that the moment the lady revelled in his presence she will fall completely and utterly for his charms. All that I knew, but, God help me, I desperately did not want it to happen.
"Oh if there's another way to aim I don't know it" He spoke with such feeling, and in that moment time physically slowed itself. I stood, three inches from the face I knew I could no longer kiss, no longer touch, no longer love, and I knew that this was the end. Here he stood, so close to me and yet so far, already in his mind he sat beside the vision of a lady in the royal box, the scent of her hair surrounding him, the touch of her skin the only sensation he desired.
It seemed as if we stood close in that moment for an eternity of time. An eternity of time in which I realised that it was truly the moment in which to let this angel go. For what is an angel without his wings? His freedom? A humble writer, such as I, can live within his rib-cage, heart captured in the chest of another. But an angel. An angel is not like other earthly creatures; he must be free to do as he chooses. I must let him be so.
Slowly, as I made my resolution, time resumed its typical pace once again, until in normal time I saw those perfect lips before mine form the words "What should I say to her?"
And with a smile I knew exactly what he should say to her. Leaning close into the warm smell of his skin I whispered my heart into his ear, for him to bestow unto another.
* * *
Life continued. The play of our lives carried on along its way, winding through the turbulence of those short months. Tournament after tournament was won, names fading in the memory but victories growing ever stronger.
And of course there was Jocelyn. Will's "lady". Who became an ever-bigger part of our lives. However always in the background, until one night in Paris when, as I strolled home my pockets heavy with the winnings I had collected that evening, I spied the slim figure of the lady disappearing into Will's tent.
My world stood still as I pressed myself against the fabric of the side of a nearby tent, desperately hoping not to be seen in this private and personal moment. It was a moment I had experienced myself many times, the trepidation, the excitement, the nerves- that soon you will be in the presence -in the arms- of an angel. Taking a deep breath I did my best to suppress the memories that even now threatened to take me over, the feel of his skin, the smell of his hair, the touch of his lips. Another deep breath.
"Gwenevere comes to Lancelot" I spoke under my breath, bestowing my private blessing upon a pairing I wished to be ultimately more successful than my own. All angels should be happy, "Bed him well, my lady, bed him well."
* * *
The End
There's a bit of artistic license involved, but then again in what fic is there not?
Disclaimer: I own nothing and no one, too bad for me.
Here it is folks. The end. Short and sweet. Just a quick warning to you all, I'm keeping to the film so there's gonna be no happy ending in store for Chaucer! Hope its not too depressing though. Enjoy, and thank you all for all you're great reviews over the time I've been writing this, I've really enjoyed it!
Miss demeanour xx
* * *
Chapter 4 " To Set Free"
"Geoff, 'tis my lady" William's whispered voice broke into my thoughts as we led him into the arena. For a moment I could only look at him in stunned silence as he moved close toward me in order to keep our conversation private, before resolutely I turned to look at the place he was staring.
"Oh Jesu William! You aim too high" It was the only thing I could think of to say in such a situation, quite pointless although it may be. For I knew there was no target too high for this angel, and I knew that the moment the lady revelled in his presence she will fall completely and utterly for his charms. All that I knew, but, God help me, I desperately did not want it to happen.
"Oh if there's another way to aim I don't know it" He spoke with such feeling, and in that moment time physically slowed itself. I stood, three inches from the face I knew I could no longer kiss, no longer touch, no longer love, and I knew that this was the end. Here he stood, so close to me and yet so far, already in his mind he sat beside the vision of a lady in the royal box, the scent of her hair surrounding him, the touch of her skin the only sensation he desired.
It seemed as if we stood close in that moment for an eternity of time. An eternity of time in which I realised that it was truly the moment in which to let this angel go. For what is an angel without his wings? His freedom? A humble writer, such as I, can live within his rib-cage, heart captured in the chest of another. But an angel. An angel is not like other earthly creatures; he must be free to do as he chooses. I must let him be so.
Slowly, as I made my resolution, time resumed its typical pace once again, until in normal time I saw those perfect lips before mine form the words "What should I say to her?"
And with a smile I knew exactly what he should say to her. Leaning close into the warm smell of his skin I whispered my heart into his ear, for him to bestow unto another.
* * *
Life continued. The play of our lives carried on along its way, winding through the turbulence of those short months. Tournament after tournament was won, names fading in the memory but victories growing ever stronger.
And of course there was Jocelyn. Will's "lady". Who became an ever-bigger part of our lives. However always in the background, until one night in Paris when, as I strolled home my pockets heavy with the winnings I had collected that evening, I spied the slim figure of the lady disappearing into Will's tent.
My world stood still as I pressed myself against the fabric of the side of a nearby tent, desperately hoping not to be seen in this private and personal moment. It was a moment I had experienced myself many times, the trepidation, the excitement, the nerves- that soon you will be in the presence -in the arms- of an angel. Taking a deep breath I did my best to suppress the memories that even now threatened to take me over, the feel of his skin, the smell of his hair, the touch of his lips. Another deep breath.
"Gwenevere comes to Lancelot" I spoke under my breath, bestowing my private blessing upon a pairing I wished to be ultimately more successful than my own. All angels should be happy, "Bed him well, my lady, bed him well."
* * *
The End
