Disclaimer: No AKT characters are mine, fanfiction is just for fun, etc
etc...
Geoff searched all over the camp for Ismene, but it wasn't until almost an hour had passed that a wine-seller said he'd seen her heading in the direction of town.
"She looked a bit upset mate – I hope you make it up to her!"
The town was busy with shoppers and visitors – Geoffrey didn't have a chance of seeing her in the crowd. He ducked into a side street to escape the bustle so he could gather his thoughts, but as he leant against the wall to catch his breath, he was arrested by the sound of water. The lane he was in opened out onto a small square – a decorative fountain stood in the middle playing the tune he'd heard, and a small figure in black sat beside it.
"Ismene?"
She turned at the sound of his voice, looking pale and upset, but didn't move when he sat down beside her.
"Are you alright?"
"I don't know...No." Ismene hung her head. "If I've been found out I'll have to leave soon, if I don't want to end up in prison."
"You haven't been found out"
"But you said..."
"I said that *I* knew. I saw Thomas acting the herald and realised what you were doing. It didn't surprise me to be honest – I always got the impression there was something you weren't telling me."
Ismene regarded him suspiciously. "So it's still on?"
"Your plot?" Geoff smiled reassuringly. "Yes...I won't tell anyone."
"Kate knows"
Geoff sighed. "There's something I've not told you...Before I came here I said was in the service of a man called Will Thatcher – he wasn't a knight; he was a thatcher's son who just wanted to joust. He'd helped me when I was in need and to repay him I forged his papers sp he could enter a tournament as a noble."
"Really?" Colour had returned to Ismene's cheeks. "Are you serious?"
"Perfectly! What's more – he won! That's how I met Wat, Roland and Kate – we were all party to his scheme. I suppose you could say we aided and abetted him."
Ismene smiled admiringly – she was seeing him in a whole new light. "You didn't tell me this last night – it would have made a great tale!"
"Last night I thought Thomas was a Count. A lowly Count, but a noble nonetheless. I could hardly tell him I'd been a criminal, although it wounds my intelligence to think that I didn't see what you were up to, not when I'd done it once myself!"
"To be honest, it feels good not to have it a secret anymore. I mean, I had to lie to you and I'm sorry for that...I didn't know I could trust you. It's not often someone shows kindness like you did..."
Geoff dismissed her comment with a wave of his hand. "I understand your need for secrecy – it's a brave thing to do, you know. Especially as you're, well...a woman. You must be very skilled in sword fighting..."
It was a tentative question, Ismene knew, and she felt it was about time to tell him everything.
"Would you like to hear how I got here?"
"I would, if it pleases you to tell me"
"It all began in France..."
~**~
Ismene, motherless, had been brought up by her father who was a man-at-arms to a French noble. She had grown up between the battlefields of northern France and a church school in Durham – her education paid for by her father's lord in return for some past service rendered. She learned to wield a bow and sword so she could defend herself when her father wasn't near. She'd never contemplated marriage – on turning 12 her father had turned down all offers...for a man of his generation and standing he was radical in thinking she should marry for love and not convenience – a sign perhaps of how much he loved her mother.
Soon after that birthday her father was injured in battle, and no longer able to fight, he became a squire for a tournament knight. Following the circuit, Ismene learnt the codes of chivalry and gained life experience and friends amongst the other tourney people. Because of this, when her father was killed in a brawl, she wasn't as defenceless as some took her for. She gathered enough money for passage to England, and at the age of 15 left France an orphan to start a new life.
Her skill with arms protected her on the dangerous journey alone – having spent half her life in England she spoke the language perfectly, and soon found employment at a house in Durham, where she acted as bookkeeper, scribe, and sometimes guard. Two years on her master married, but his new wife was jealous of her husband's attractive servant – Ismene had to leave, and wandered the country a while, where she met Thomas, also drifting in search of a living. After several adventures Thomas had been forced to return to London to help his father, and Ismene herself received news that her father may have left her more in his will than the clothes on her back. She'd returned to Durham to discuss the matter with a French emissary, who advised her to return to Gascony.
This brought Ismene to the present day, as she promised to meet Thomas at the Oxford tournament. They both needed the money – him to set up home for himself, and her to buy passage to France to settle her father's estate.
"And that's my life story. I guess I never really landed on my feet." Ismene shrugged.
Geoffrey sat in silence for a long moment. She was an orphan, with no means of making a living, and a long journey ahead she was preparing to face alone. He felt a rush of sympathy.
"You're strong to bear life as you do"
"I may have troubles, but I'd rather be this way than married with children like most women are at my age."
"How old *are* you?"
"18. Sometimes I feel 28."
Geoffrey nodded, understanding. She'd seen more carnage on the battlefield than a lot of warriors, and had built such mental defences against hurt – all her life she'd faced death and rejection. "You're so young...you shouldn't be burdened with so many cares."
"Really? Would you like to take some then?" Ismene snapped, but quickly looked down at her hands in shame. Geoffrey took them in his own.
"If you'll let me..."
~**~
A/N: Hmm...what will happen next? Please RnR!
Geoff searched all over the camp for Ismene, but it wasn't until almost an hour had passed that a wine-seller said he'd seen her heading in the direction of town.
"She looked a bit upset mate – I hope you make it up to her!"
The town was busy with shoppers and visitors – Geoffrey didn't have a chance of seeing her in the crowd. He ducked into a side street to escape the bustle so he could gather his thoughts, but as he leant against the wall to catch his breath, he was arrested by the sound of water. The lane he was in opened out onto a small square – a decorative fountain stood in the middle playing the tune he'd heard, and a small figure in black sat beside it.
"Ismene?"
She turned at the sound of his voice, looking pale and upset, but didn't move when he sat down beside her.
"Are you alright?"
"I don't know...No." Ismene hung her head. "If I've been found out I'll have to leave soon, if I don't want to end up in prison."
"You haven't been found out"
"But you said..."
"I said that *I* knew. I saw Thomas acting the herald and realised what you were doing. It didn't surprise me to be honest – I always got the impression there was something you weren't telling me."
Ismene regarded him suspiciously. "So it's still on?"
"Your plot?" Geoff smiled reassuringly. "Yes...I won't tell anyone."
"Kate knows"
Geoff sighed. "There's something I've not told you...Before I came here I said was in the service of a man called Will Thatcher – he wasn't a knight; he was a thatcher's son who just wanted to joust. He'd helped me when I was in need and to repay him I forged his papers sp he could enter a tournament as a noble."
"Really?" Colour had returned to Ismene's cheeks. "Are you serious?"
"Perfectly! What's more – he won! That's how I met Wat, Roland and Kate – we were all party to his scheme. I suppose you could say we aided and abetted him."
Ismene smiled admiringly – she was seeing him in a whole new light. "You didn't tell me this last night – it would have made a great tale!"
"Last night I thought Thomas was a Count. A lowly Count, but a noble nonetheless. I could hardly tell him I'd been a criminal, although it wounds my intelligence to think that I didn't see what you were up to, not when I'd done it once myself!"
"To be honest, it feels good not to have it a secret anymore. I mean, I had to lie to you and I'm sorry for that...I didn't know I could trust you. It's not often someone shows kindness like you did..."
Geoff dismissed her comment with a wave of his hand. "I understand your need for secrecy – it's a brave thing to do, you know. Especially as you're, well...a woman. You must be very skilled in sword fighting..."
It was a tentative question, Ismene knew, and she felt it was about time to tell him everything.
"Would you like to hear how I got here?"
"I would, if it pleases you to tell me"
"It all began in France..."
~**~
Ismene, motherless, had been brought up by her father who was a man-at-arms to a French noble. She had grown up between the battlefields of northern France and a church school in Durham – her education paid for by her father's lord in return for some past service rendered. She learned to wield a bow and sword so she could defend herself when her father wasn't near. She'd never contemplated marriage – on turning 12 her father had turned down all offers...for a man of his generation and standing he was radical in thinking she should marry for love and not convenience – a sign perhaps of how much he loved her mother.
Soon after that birthday her father was injured in battle, and no longer able to fight, he became a squire for a tournament knight. Following the circuit, Ismene learnt the codes of chivalry and gained life experience and friends amongst the other tourney people. Because of this, when her father was killed in a brawl, she wasn't as defenceless as some took her for. She gathered enough money for passage to England, and at the age of 15 left France an orphan to start a new life.
Her skill with arms protected her on the dangerous journey alone – having spent half her life in England she spoke the language perfectly, and soon found employment at a house in Durham, where she acted as bookkeeper, scribe, and sometimes guard. Two years on her master married, but his new wife was jealous of her husband's attractive servant – Ismene had to leave, and wandered the country a while, where she met Thomas, also drifting in search of a living. After several adventures Thomas had been forced to return to London to help his father, and Ismene herself received news that her father may have left her more in his will than the clothes on her back. She'd returned to Durham to discuss the matter with a French emissary, who advised her to return to Gascony.
This brought Ismene to the present day, as she promised to meet Thomas at the Oxford tournament. They both needed the money – him to set up home for himself, and her to buy passage to France to settle her father's estate.
"And that's my life story. I guess I never really landed on my feet." Ismene shrugged.
Geoffrey sat in silence for a long moment. She was an orphan, with no means of making a living, and a long journey ahead she was preparing to face alone. He felt a rush of sympathy.
"You're strong to bear life as you do"
"I may have troubles, but I'd rather be this way than married with children like most women are at my age."
"How old *are* you?"
"18. Sometimes I feel 28."
Geoffrey nodded, understanding. She'd seen more carnage on the battlefield than a lot of warriors, and had built such mental defences against hurt – all her life she'd faced death and rejection. "You're so young...you shouldn't be burdened with so many cares."
"Really? Would you like to take some then?" Ismene snapped, but quickly looked down at her hands in shame. Geoffrey took them in his own.
"If you'll let me..."
~**~
A/N: Hmm...what will happen next? Please RnR!