Duo leapt off the last of the stairs down to the kitchen and grinned.
"Food!"
He ran forward. A kitchen maid walked out of the kitchen bearing a large tray. She nearly ran into to Duo and cursed at him,
"You idiot! What are you doing in here?"
Duo looked up, letting parts of the two rolls he had stuffed in his mouth crumbled to the floor.
"Mmph?"
He cocked his head to the side. She set the tray down with a bang,
"Stop it! We worked on those all day! Who are you to be eating our rolls anyway!"
Duo dropped the roll in his hand back in the bowl, but decided to keep the one in his back pocket. He swallowed and coughed,
"Hey, lady, They call me Duo, and calm down, I just got here. Can't you feed a hungry guy?"
She set her hands on her hips and glared at him. She had black hair that hung over her forehead like angry teeth as she glared at him with glittering eyes. She was pretty, Duo realized, and snuck another roll into his pocket. Remembering his conversation with Treize, he pushed that thought away.
"NO!" She yelled at him, "I don't care what they call you, I call you a thief! You think we can feed every vagabond coming into the kitchen! Get out of here!"
She snapped at him with a rolled up napkin and he dodged away, smiling over his shoulder at her,
"calm down! I'm going!"
She glared at him as he took his sweet time in getting out.
"Get OUT!!"
She yelled and snapped the napkin at him again. He grinned and finally turned to leave. She sighed and looked down at the devastation that had befallen the carefully prepared rolls. She held her forehead and pushed her bangs back.
"Dammit..." she muttered.
She looked up to see Duo lingering at the edge of the stairwell. She growled and threw the first thing within reach at him with all her might. Duo caught the roll and stuffed it in his shirt, grinning,
"Thanks!"
She pointed and got ready to yell at him again, when he waved,
"See ya later!"
She saw the extra rolls sticking out of his pockets as he ran up the stairs. "YOU—!"
*****
"Mmmm, buttery..."
Duo licked his fingers as he finished another roll and headed up the stairs to the yet unexplored parts of the castle. He figured he was safe as long as he didn't run into anyone he knew. And of course, excluding the pretty kitchen girl whose name he never caught, (he pulled out another roll and dug in, relishing the fresh-from-the-oven warmth) that made up all of two people, one being the King, whom he had a distinct lack of enthusiam for reacquainting, and the King's chief advisor, the goosey noble who had adopted him, Milliardo.
"Maxwell?"
He froze and turned, straightening and putting on his best innocent face,
"Hey! Goosey! How's it going?"
Milliardo walked up and looked down at him a moment, then shifted to look slightly at the wall to their left; hid voice was soft and quiet in it's normal restrained way,
"How was you meeting with His Majesty Treize?"
Duo didn't want to think about it. At all. Ever again.
"Just fine, he's a good guy, I suppose."
Milliardo nodded, "You may think his ways strange but it's best not to comment on them."
Duo jumped back, "Hey!? What do you think I am? Some insensitive jerk?"
Milliardo glared at him, unamused entirely, "I am only concerned."
Duo folded his arms across his chest, "Come on, you know me! What do you have to worry about?"
Milliardo kept his eyes away from Duo directly,
"I know that you seem to be naturally combative—."
"Hey!" Duo flared at him, "what do you mean? I'm not combative! I'm the nicest guy I've ever met!"
Milliardo inwardly rolled his eyes and sighed.
"Either way, it would be best for you keep your mouth shut for once."
"Are you saying I talk to much? And was that a hint of humor I detected, goosey?"
Duo grinned and Milliardo ignored him,
"You must come now. You've a few short lessons to attend."
Duo shied away from his grasp, "Wait? What? Lessons? Who said anything about lessons?"
Milliardo sighed and took his arm gently, "You've much to learn to stay in the castle. You must at least know the basics of politeness"
"Hey!" Duo protested down the entire hallway.
**
Milliardo watched as Duo dropped yet another plate of silverware on the ground with a clatter. The teacher sighed and gave up on the lesson, turning it over to another tutor. This man handed Duo a stack full of books.
Duo cried out, "Aww Man! You mean I have to learn to read?"
Milliardo covered his face as the tutor nearly passed out. He heard the other tutor hit the ground as the first began to explain about the balancing drill.
"Whose idea was it to train this boy?"
Milliardo looked over at the head tutor standing beside him, "It was decided that it would be wise to give him at least some formal court training."
Milliardo was loath to admit he'd thought it necessary. He was glad, however, that he'd had the foresight to only ask for a few small lessons on the most necessary of skills. He heard Duo curse as the stack of books tumbled to the floor and hit his foot. It was much like the tumbling silverware, and glass before that, and papers before that, and ink before that. Milliardo wished it would end already. Duo cursed again as a particularly heavy book he was balancing on his head fell on his other foot. Milliardo faked a small itch so he could cover his face. It was only a few, short, lessons.
_______________
Noin pushed her hair back and slumped back in her chair,
"How am I going to train a new tactician in time for this battle?"
she moaned to no one in particular. Her frustration threatened to override her will give her untested generals a chance. She had, of course, upgraded their position from underling captains to that of field generals in some kind of lame attempt to make them more clever and experienced for the upcoming battle. She groaned again and her field generals exchanged looks across the table. It was their last few hours in the hold conference room with the rickety tables, and they had a pot going on whether or not the table would last beneath her wrath. Noin set her elbows on the poor faithful table and clutched her hair with tension. It couldn't be that she would have a relaxing amount of time to get to the front with her soldiers, but somehow neither signal or cause for rush had occurred. It was some dreadful game she thought she wouldn't have to play again in the name of King Treize. She looked again at the barren room and the expectant faces of her former captains. She resisted the urge to button up her uniform another notch and stood, frowning at them as best she could,
"What is the signal we're waiting for, generals?"
She watched them all go into stuttering hypothesis and conversations of utter uselessness. Why did Treize have to call Yuy now? Wasn't it in his best interest to keep his brightest future leaders near the front? She hated to think that some foul whim of the royalty had called him away at the time she needed him most. She knew that if she had asked that question with him in the room, he would have answered. She felt her teeth grinding as she clamped her eyes shut and tried not to yell. It was a game they played many times, the game of tactics. After his father had left him to their care...
"General Noin, sir!"
A soldier snapped of a salute in the doorway, and didn't waste time apologizing. It cooled her anger a bit to see that her soldiers knew her so well.
"Yes, soldier?"
"We have word, sir, of the rebels movement towards Calais. They move quickly, ma'am."
She interrupted him, "But do they mean to battle?"
"Yes, ma'am, we have the signal."
She saw the sodleir's countenance change just slightly as his voice dipped in apprehension.
"And what was it, soldier?"
"It was the children ma'am. The people of Calais have sent their children ahead of them, they don't have time...to leave, ma'am."
Noin grimaced as her soldier held his position quietly. They had sent their children ahead. Their forward scouts had not returned. Noin knew the people of Calais well, they were aware of battle like no other township. It would not be an easy town to take, but nor would it be an easy town to hold. She thought of those she knew in the town and took a small breath to calm her unhappiness at this news.
"Round the troops, tell them to move whether I'm front column or not. I don't need to be in front to tell them where Calais is. We either arrive before nightfall or fight in the night after. Go soldier."
He nodded, saluted again with more sharp vigor than before and left. Noin sighed. She was putting her soldiers in danger again, before many were ready, she was sure, but the option to travel slow was not one to be taken. The clock had been set and time was passing quickly. They needed to be in Calais, and they were two days away.
__________________
Rohan followed the path to the townships with his eyes on the bright and clear skyline more often than the road. He stared about with wide eyed wonder at the smoothed grass fields and quickly tapering clumps of trees. He had never seen a flat horizon but once upon the river, when he had no business there. He smiled to himself, thinking about it, but would've bet hard against that a stranger could see it. Or course, it wasn't like he had met many strangers on the road. Madame Yourna had been hesitant to send him on this mission because of the way he acted to strangers. A child , though close to manhood, could not exist on the road alone, she had said, wringing her brittle, small hands, and the way Rohan would shy from a body, friendly or not, made him suspect and unusual. But she had sent him anyway, apparently having some argument with a voice she remembered in her head that made her cry with either happiness or sadness, because he was the strongest of all her orphans. She had hugged him to, and he had to let her because she was crying. She didn't want to send him away. It made him wonder how anyone ever got adopted. He turned his gaze to the ground and shuffled his foot for just a moment. Thinking of adoption made him think of things he didn't want to. He wiped his sleeve across his nose and breathed a small sigh. He turned his gaze to the road again and found himself looking at a great blur of a dust cloud. The heat from the ground rose and fogged the apparition into obscurity, so he could not determine what was making it. He felt apprehension begin to grow in his chest and remembered what the two travelers had told him. He was supposed to travel in the woods he knew about because he was going to see lots of pave stones and trust nine, whatever that meant. He squinted to see if he could catch some sign of who it was, but that only made his fear grow sharp and painful in his chest, like it usually did face to face with someone. He glanced about the road again like a new traveler and saw a healthy gathering of thick trees by the side of the road that stretch up for as far as he could estimate. If he was in luck and his eyes were as good as he thought, he saw no tapering off of the treeline, meaning there be enough healthy foliage for him to hide well enough. He took his satchel from his shoulder and loped quietly for the woods to the side of the road. He didn't actually know these trees, but he knew his own well enough to make a guess. He set his hand reassuringly on one of the trunks, struck again with the feeling of home he always felt in his own woods, and the mysticism he had felt among the two travelers. He moved through this wood, acquainting himself with the trees and brush, and keeping his well-used, wary eyes on the dust cloud up the road. He smiled again to himself when he realized he felt he was moving more swiftly and safer than he had on the regular man's road and watched the growing black mass that was the cause of the dirt cloud. The woods had taught him that he needed to be wary of men, and now, he was wondering why such a great number of men would moving down the road to Calais.
--*End*--
How did you like that? It was a bit of a wait, but I'm starting to write as I go now *sigh* all out of already done stuff. I left in the first part so this would be a little longer, and maybe a little amusing. I think it's kind of lame, but there may not be much to laugh at later. Please enjoy, and tell me what you think. Until another time my spirits,
Kitten
-sends greetings from the Dead Hand.
"Food!"
He ran forward. A kitchen maid walked out of the kitchen bearing a large tray. She nearly ran into to Duo and cursed at him,
"You idiot! What are you doing in here?"
Duo looked up, letting parts of the two rolls he had stuffed in his mouth crumbled to the floor.
"Mmph?"
He cocked his head to the side. She set the tray down with a bang,
"Stop it! We worked on those all day! Who are you to be eating our rolls anyway!"
Duo dropped the roll in his hand back in the bowl, but decided to keep the one in his back pocket. He swallowed and coughed,
"Hey, lady, They call me Duo, and calm down, I just got here. Can't you feed a hungry guy?"
She set her hands on her hips and glared at him. She had black hair that hung over her forehead like angry teeth as she glared at him with glittering eyes. She was pretty, Duo realized, and snuck another roll into his pocket. Remembering his conversation with Treize, he pushed that thought away.
"NO!" She yelled at him, "I don't care what they call you, I call you a thief! You think we can feed every vagabond coming into the kitchen! Get out of here!"
She snapped at him with a rolled up napkin and he dodged away, smiling over his shoulder at her,
"calm down! I'm going!"
She glared at him as he took his sweet time in getting out.
"Get OUT!!"
She yelled and snapped the napkin at him again. He grinned and finally turned to leave. She sighed and looked down at the devastation that had befallen the carefully prepared rolls. She held her forehead and pushed her bangs back.
"Dammit..." she muttered.
She looked up to see Duo lingering at the edge of the stairwell. She growled and threw the first thing within reach at him with all her might. Duo caught the roll and stuffed it in his shirt, grinning,
"Thanks!"
She pointed and got ready to yell at him again, when he waved,
"See ya later!"
She saw the extra rolls sticking out of his pockets as he ran up the stairs. "YOU—!"
*****
"Mmmm, buttery..."
Duo licked his fingers as he finished another roll and headed up the stairs to the yet unexplored parts of the castle. He figured he was safe as long as he didn't run into anyone he knew. And of course, excluding the pretty kitchen girl whose name he never caught, (he pulled out another roll and dug in, relishing the fresh-from-the-oven warmth) that made up all of two people, one being the King, whom he had a distinct lack of enthusiam for reacquainting, and the King's chief advisor, the goosey noble who had adopted him, Milliardo.
"Maxwell?"
He froze and turned, straightening and putting on his best innocent face,
"Hey! Goosey! How's it going?"
Milliardo walked up and looked down at him a moment, then shifted to look slightly at the wall to their left; hid voice was soft and quiet in it's normal restrained way,
"How was you meeting with His Majesty Treize?"
Duo didn't want to think about it. At all. Ever again.
"Just fine, he's a good guy, I suppose."
Milliardo nodded, "You may think his ways strange but it's best not to comment on them."
Duo jumped back, "Hey!? What do you think I am? Some insensitive jerk?"
Milliardo glared at him, unamused entirely, "I am only concerned."
Duo folded his arms across his chest, "Come on, you know me! What do you have to worry about?"
Milliardo kept his eyes away from Duo directly,
"I know that you seem to be naturally combative—."
"Hey!" Duo flared at him, "what do you mean? I'm not combative! I'm the nicest guy I've ever met!"
Milliardo inwardly rolled his eyes and sighed.
"Either way, it would be best for you keep your mouth shut for once."
"Are you saying I talk to much? And was that a hint of humor I detected, goosey?"
Duo grinned and Milliardo ignored him,
"You must come now. You've a few short lessons to attend."
Duo shied away from his grasp, "Wait? What? Lessons? Who said anything about lessons?"
Milliardo sighed and took his arm gently, "You've much to learn to stay in the castle. You must at least know the basics of politeness"
"Hey!" Duo protested down the entire hallway.
**
Milliardo watched as Duo dropped yet another plate of silverware on the ground with a clatter. The teacher sighed and gave up on the lesson, turning it over to another tutor. This man handed Duo a stack full of books.
Duo cried out, "Aww Man! You mean I have to learn to read?"
Milliardo covered his face as the tutor nearly passed out. He heard the other tutor hit the ground as the first began to explain about the balancing drill.
"Whose idea was it to train this boy?"
Milliardo looked over at the head tutor standing beside him, "It was decided that it would be wise to give him at least some formal court training."
Milliardo was loath to admit he'd thought it necessary. He was glad, however, that he'd had the foresight to only ask for a few small lessons on the most necessary of skills. He heard Duo curse as the stack of books tumbled to the floor and hit his foot. It was much like the tumbling silverware, and glass before that, and papers before that, and ink before that. Milliardo wished it would end already. Duo cursed again as a particularly heavy book he was balancing on his head fell on his other foot. Milliardo faked a small itch so he could cover his face. It was only a few, short, lessons.
_______________
Noin pushed her hair back and slumped back in her chair,
"How am I going to train a new tactician in time for this battle?"
she moaned to no one in particular. Her frustration threatened to override her will give her untested generals a chance. She had, of course, upgraded their position from underling captains to that of field generals in some kind of lame attempt to make them more clever and experienced for the upcoming battle. She groaned again and her field generals exchanged looks across the table. It was their last few hours in the hold conference room with the rickety tables, and they had a pot going on whether or not the table would last beneath her wrath. Noin set her elbows on the poor faithful table and clutched her hair with tension. It couldn't be that she would have a relaxing amount of time to get to the front with her soldiers, but somehow neither signal or cause for rush had occurred. It was some dreadful game she thought she wouldn't have to play again in the name of King Treize. She looked again at the barren room and the expectant faces of her former captains. She resisted the urge to button up her uniform another notch and stood, frowning at them as best she could,
"What is the signal we're waiting for, generals?"
She watched them all go into stuttering hypothesis and conversations of utter uselessness. Why did Treize have to call Yuy now? Wasn't it in his best interest to keep his brightest future leaders near the front? She hated to think that some foul whim of the royalty had called him away at the time she needed him most. She knew that if she had asked that question with him in the room, he would have answered. She felt her teeth grinding as she clamped her eyes shut and tried not to yell. It was a game they played many times, the game of tactics. After his father had left him to their care...
"General Noin, sir!"
A soldier snapped of a salute in the doorway, and didn't waste time apologizing. It cooled her anger a bit to see that her soldiers knew her so well.
"Yes, soldier?"
"We have word, sir, of the rebels movement towards Calais. They move quickly, ma'am."
She interrupted him, "But do they mean to battle?"
"Yes, ma'am, we have the signal."
She saw the sodleir's countenance change just slightly as his voice dipped in apprehension.
"And what was it, soldier?"
"It was the children ma'am. The people of Calais have sent their children ahead of them, they don't have time...to leave, ma'am."
Noin grimaced as her soldier held his position quietly. They had sent their children ahead. Their forward scouts had not returned. Noin knew the people of Calais well, they were aware of battle like no other township. It would not be an easy town to take, but nor would it be an easy town to hold. She thought of those she knew in the town and took a small breath to calm her unhappiness at this news.
"Round the troops, tell them to move whether I'm front column or not. I don't need to be in front to tell them where Calais is. We either arrive before nightfall or fight in the night after. Go soldier."
He nodded, saluted again with more sharp vigor than before and left. Noin sighed. She was putting her soldiers in danger again, before many were ready, she was sure, but the option to travel slow was not one to be taken. The clock had been set and time was passing quickly. They needed to be in Calais, and they were two days away.
__________________
Rohan followed the path to the townships with his eyes on the bright and clear skyline more often than the road. He stared about with wide eyed wonder at the smoothed grass fields and quickly tapering clumps of trees. He had never seen a flat horizon but once upon the river, when he had no business there. He smiled to himself, thinking about it, but would've bet hard against that a stranger could see it. Or course, it wasn't like he had met many strangers on the road. Madame Yourna had been hesitant to send him on this mission because of the way he acted to strangers. A child , though close to manhood, could not exist on the road alone, she had said, wringing her brittle, small hands, and the way Rohan would shy from a body, friendly or not, made him suspect and unusual. But she had sent him anyway, apparently having some argument with a voice she remembered in her head that made her cry with either happiness or sadness, because he was the strongest of all her orphans. She had hugged him to, and he had to let her because she was crying. She didn't want to send him away. It made him wonder how anyone ever got adopted. He turned his gaze to the ground and shuffled his foot for just a moment. Thinking of adoption made him think of things he didn't want to. He wiped his sleeve across his nose and breathed a small sigh. He turned his gaze to the road again and found himself looking at a great blur of a dust cloud. The heat from the ground rose and fogged the apparition into obscurity, so he could not determine what was making it. He felt apprehension begin to grow in his chest and remembered what the two travelers had told him. He was supposed to travel in the woods he knew about because he was going to see lots of pave stones and trust nine, whatever that meant. He squinted to see if he could catch some sign of who it was, but that only made his fear grow sharp and painful in his chest, like it usually did face to face with someone. He glanced about the road again like a new traveler and saw a healthy gathering of thick trees by the side of the road that stretch up for as far as he could estimate. If he was in luck and his eyes were as good as he thought, he saw no tapering off of the treeline, meaning there be enough healthy foliage for him to hide well enough. He took his satchel from his shoulder and loped quietly for the woods to the side of the road. He didn't actually know these trees, but he knew his own well enough to make a guess. He set his hand reassuringly on one of the trunks, struck again with the feeling of home he always felt in his own woods, and the mysticism he had felt among the two travelers. He moved through this wood, acquainting himself with the trees and brush, and keeping his well-used, wary eyes on the dust cloud up the road. He smiled again to himself when he realized he felt he was moving more swiftly and safer than he had on the regular man's road and watched the growing black mass that was the cause of the dirt cloud. The woods had taught him that he needed to be wary of men, and now, he was wondering why such a great number of men would moving down the road to Calais.
--*End*--
How did you like that? It was a bit of a wait, but I'm starting to write as I go now *sigh* all out of already done stuff. I left in the first part so this would be a little longer, and maybe a little amusing. I think it's kind of lame, but there may not be much to laugh at later. Please enjoy, and tell me what you think. Until another time my spirits,
Kitten
-sends greetings from the Dead Hand.