Entry tags:
FIC: Court Games (SotL)
WRITTEN FOR: ![[profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
freeformchick , Christmas 2004
TITLE: Court Games
FANDOM: Song of the Lioness
PAIRING: Alex/Geoffrey, mentioned Roger/Alex
RATING: PG-13
WORDS: 2,209
DISCLAIMER: All characters and situations belong to Tamora Pierce, I’m just playing.
EXTRACT: …most people would think that a dreamy boy like himself would be all for falling in love with high-born ladies and swooning at their feet and dueling over their honour…”
Court Games
Sometimes, Geoffrey of Meron was convinced that the Code of Chivalry had only been invented to pass the time during winter. Not that he had anything against the Code, mind you, not the sensible parts about defending those weaker then yourself and obeying the king and all that. No, that all made perfect sense to him. It was the other things that had the desert-raised squire scratching his head, the things about graceful manners and reputation and, well…the whole Courtly Love thing, really.
He just…didn’t get it. Not one little bit. And that was odd, for most people would think that a dreamy boy like himself would be all for falling in love with high-born ladies and swooning at their feet and dueling over their honour.
From what he had seen so far, Geoffrey was convinced that the court ladies could handle their affairs perfectly well without any interference from him.
Take the new one, for example. Delia. Lovely little Delia of Eldorne. Only a couple inches taller than Alan, dainty and beautiful, the current court beauty. And an utter flirt who had all the males between the ages of about thirteen to twenty-three absolutely smitten with her. And that was probably underestimating it.
Well, not all the males. His knight-master, Alexander of Tirragen, showed no signs of surrendering his cat-like poise to the bright-eyed girl, and Alan looked as though he wanted to kill her from some reason that Geoffrey couldn’t quite fathom. So that she wouldn’t inspire any more bad poetry? So that she would stop making his friends jealous? So that she would stop making him jealous over Delia’s flirting with Jonathan? Geoffrey had certain suspicions about Alan of Trebond. Nothing malicious, of course, just simple logic. For Geoffrey’s red-haired friend seemed to show exactly that same interest in girls that –
“I haven’t missed anything, have I?” came a soft voice from Geoffrey’s left and he squeaked, almost falling off the railing. Getting his balance back just before he tumbled onto the in-door fencing court floor, Geoffrey glared at the voice’s owner.
Alexander of Tirragen – Alex – just grinned back. His dark hair was messy, his eyes bright, and his tunic was askew. In other words, he looked rather disheveled and almost - Geoffrey looked away quickly, and ignored the appearance of Duke Roger, who was straightening his own tunic and smoothing his hair. See no evil…
“No, you haven’t,” he answered, watching as the court filled with people. “It’s only been about fifty minutes since the challenge.”
Alex made a slight face and folded his arms onto the railing. “Please tell me that the rumor-mill was mistaken and they picked something more serious then Delia’s riding glove to fight over.”
Geoffrey had chosen a good spot to watch; the two of them had a perfect view. Gary getting ready on the right, Raoul on the left, the object of their fight watching from near a support pillar and looking for all the world as if she wanted to laugh. Glancing at the girl, Geoffrey shook his head.
“They didn’t.”
Alex rolled his eyes, but there was concern underneath the flippant gesture; Gary and Raoul were friends. “Idiots,” Alex muttered, “You wouldn’t do something this stupid, would you, Geoff?”
“Me? Mithros, no,” he replied, still dividing his attention between the two young knights, “’Sides, I’m only fifteen, too young to be interested in girls that much.”
“If you were a girl, you would be just the right age to be interested.” Alex commented quietly, and Geoffrey looked at him sharply. Alex’s expression was as secretive and unreadable as ever, but before Geoffrey could even think of trying to name the expression in Alex’s eyes a flicker of movement caught his attention. Turning his head back to around to face the fencing-court in front of him, Geoffrey saw that Gary and Raoul were standing in the center of the room. Duke Gareth of Naxon slowly got to his feet, his expression tired. Though that was nothing new, Geoffrey fancied that he was wishing that Gary were a child again, so he could give him a sharp smack for being so stupid.
But then again, Geoffrey had a habit of making up stories to go with people’s actions.
“Are you prepared?” the Duke asked his son and Raoul. The two faced him and bowed, then saluted him with their swords. Quickly they bowed and saluted each other before moving so that they were just a sword’s length apart.
“Cross your weapons,” a pause as Gary and Raoul did so and then, “Do honour to the laws of chivalry and to the customs of this land. Guard!”
Geoffrey forced himself to watch as Gary attacked, swinging his blade around towards Raoul’s arm. The large, normally cheerful knight blocked the attack with a clear ringing sound that made Geoffrey wince. They broke away from each other and circled, occasionally shouting insults. Personally, Geoffrey didn’t see the point; it was a waste of breath, and he always felt terribly embarrassed about doing it. But tradition was tradition, after all.
Raoul parried another attack by Gary and lunged in, sword aiming for his heart. Gary only just blocked it and stumbled back, eyes narrowed. They had fallen silent now, and were fighting in deadly earnest. Raoul lunged in again, and Gary blocked it awkwardly, stumbling and falling onto the ground to an audible gasp from the spectators. Geoffrey felt Alex move beside him, and when he glanced down he saw that his knight-master had his lips pressed together, his face pale and tense. Looking from Alex to Delia, he saw that the pretty girl wasn’t laughing anymore.
Gary rolled away and got to his feet. He came in with a series of chopping blows, trying to limit Raoul to defense. Raoul backed away, blocking Gary and then sending him a complex overhead pass that brought his sword within inches of his friend’s face.
“Oh, will you two stop it!” came a ringing voice. Turning with most of the spectators to look, Geoffrey saw that Delia had pushed her way through the crowd and had ducked between the panels in the railing. She was now standing on the actual court, and he heard more then a few mutters of ‘such unorthodox behavior, how dare she?’ from the older members of the crowd. The girl quickly made her way over to the knights, her face pale and eyes bright. Gary and Raoul must have heard her, but it wasn’t until Gary’s sword went over her head that they actually stopped.
“Put the blades down,” she whispered, voice unwavering through the obvious shock. Gary’s sword dropped to the floor with a clutter, and she turned her attention to Raoul. Reaching out, she curled her fingers around the blade and forced it to point downwards.
“This is ridiculous, boys,” Delia began quietly before being interrupted by a stern, “I quite agree.” The three of them turned to face Duke Gareth, Delia lowering her eyes before dropping into a curtsey. When she straightened, Geoffrey was close enough to see that her hand had left bloodstains on her velvet dress.
The Duke gave her a cold look before turning it onto Gary and Raoul. “My office, half an hour. Is that understood?” He didn’t wait for an answer and just strode off. Gary turned to Delia with a confused frown.
“Why did you do that?”
Alex smiled nastily. “She panicked,” he said softly to himself, and Geoffrey glanced at him questioningly. But Alex didn’t see him, for he had caught a look from someone else and nodded. Pushing himself away from the railing, Alex bumped into Geoffrey gently.
“I’ll be around later to help you with your mathematics,” he said, and smiled before jogging away. Geoffrey looked after him in surprise and then his eyes narrowed as he saw whom the knight had met up with. He turned back to the drama on the court; that at least he could watch without feeling.
But there was nothing to watch anymore. Delia, cradling her bloody hand, had been lead to the care of Duke Baird, and Raoul was wiping her blood off his sword. Gary was standing near him, and though Geoffrey couldn’t hear what was going on, it wasn’t too hard to imagine that Gary wasn’t congratulating his friend on a duel well fought.
Geoffrey swung himself off the railing and walked away, his mind replaying Alex jogging away to meet with someone. A certain tall, handsome someone. Unwanted, an image floated to the dreamy boy’s mind of Alex coming into the court later than he should, all disheveled and bright-eyed, and a few moments later a somewhat disheveled Duke Roger walking in through the same door.
Geoffrey would be the first to admit that he was somewhat absent-minded and naïve, but he wasn’t stupid.
Not by a long shot.
*~*~*~*~*~*
Geoffrey had been mildly surprised when Alex actually kept his word about the mathematics, and then reflected that he shouldn’t have been. Once Alex said he would do something, he tended to do it. It was just…
He would have felt better about being jealous if Alex had given him more of a reason.
Instead, the dark young knight had turned up at the normal time, not a hair out of place, and had proceeded to explain Geoffrey’s mathematics problems. Sometimes it worked, sometimes it didn’t, but there was always at least an hour spent on them.
This time, though, Alex paused mid-explanation and said mildly, “You aren’t listening, are you, Geoff?”
Geoffrey, startled, looked up and met Alex’s dark eyes. To tell the truth or not to tell the truth…
But what is the truth?
“The duel,” he began, and mentally cursed himself for his cowardice, “the duel today, you said that Lady Delia panicked…what did you mean?”
Alex smiled, and it wasn’t very nice. “The Lady Delia is playing with things she’d best leave alone. Flatter this knight, flirt with that one, juggle three or four declarations of love and marriage and try not to insult any of them…just court games, Geoff.”
“I thought you meant it was more serious then that?” Geoffrey said slowly, still confused. Court games he understood; the nobles at Persopolis had little else to amuse themselves with. Court games would account for a beginner like Delia, no matter how skilled, panicking if it looked like someone might get killed. The flirtations that Alex mentioned, those did not. They were the lighter side of court games, not worthy of Alex’s nasty little smile.
If…if she did panic, that is. It could have been calculated. If it was, then Delia was playing a far more serious game then Alex was letting on, a game worthy of that nasty, vindictive little smile. Geoffrey was thinking very quickly now, using his imagination to piece together the facts.
If the young, beautiful Delia was meddling in court politics, and if Alex was jealous…
“Do you love him?” Geoffrey asked without thinking, and then flushed at the question.
Alex went still and then asked, carefully, “Who?”
“Duke Roger,” Geoffrey’s voice was very clear. Alex didn’t answer straight away; he just looked at his dreamy squire with his expression unreadable, turning his quill over and over in his hands.
“Yes,” Alex raised a hand before Geoffrey could say anything, “but not the way you think. We’re not,” a quick grin, “‘sweethearts’, just lovers sometimes. I respect him too much for it to be anything more.”
Geoffrey was frowning. This wasn’t really adding up. “I don’t understand.”
Alex sighed and rubbed his head. “Don’t worry about it, Geoff.”
“But I’m going to,” he said softly, not taking his eyes away from Alex’s dark, secretive face, “Squires are meant to worry about their knights.”
“Even when their knights aren’t fighting anyone?”
“Knights are always fighting someone. The scenery and weapons just change, that’s all.” Alex met Geoffrey’s dreamy hazel eyes for a long, long time, and then laughed softly.
“Oh, Geoff, what a find you are.” The dark young knight leaned forward, and laid a soft, careful kiss on his squire’s lips. Geoffrey was too shocked to do anything but let it happen, and when Alex stopped, the boy was blushing furiously. Alex smiled, and gently ran the back of a finger down Geoffrey’s cheek.
“Alex…” Geoffrey’s voice was a whisper.
“You’re too good for such games, Geoff,” Alex said, his soft voice husky, “Much too good for them. Promise me you will stay out of them.” Geoffrey hesitated, until Alex added a pleading, “Please.”
“I promise.” It didn’t seem enough, so he continued, “On my honour as a squire of the realm, I promise to stay away from your court games.”
Alex gave him a crooked grin. “Good boy.” Geoffrey glared, so Alex kissed him again. As Geoffrey stiffed, he drew back with a frown.
“Don’t you want me to kiss you?”
“I…”
“I won’t do it again, if you wish it.” Geoffrey looked at Alex, and his heart did a little flip. Alex wouldn’t love him, couldn’t, maybe, but it would be nice…
“No,” he said at last, “I want you to kiss me.” Alex smiled at that, and leaned in. This time, Geoffrey kissed him back.
Fin.
freeformchick , Christmas 2004TITLE: Court Games
FANDOM: Song of the Lioness
PAIRING: Alex/Geoffrey, mentioned Roger/Alex
RATING: PG-13
WORDS: 2,209
DISCLAIMER: All characters and situations belong to Tamora Pierce, I’m just playing.
EXTRACT: …most people would think that a dreamy boy like himself would be all for falling in love with high-born ladies and swooning at their feet and dueling over their honour…”
Sometimes, Geoffrey of Meron was convinced that the Code of Chivalry had only been invented to pass the time during winter. Not that he had anything against the Code, mind you, not the sensible parts about defending those weaker then yourself and obeying the king and all that. No, that all made perfect sense to him. It was the other things that had the desert-raised squire scratching his head, the things about graceful manners and reputation and, well…the whole Courtly Love thing, really.
He just…didn’t get it. Not one little bit. And that was odd, for most people would think that a dreamy boy like himself would be all for falling in love with high-born ladies and swooning at their feet and dueling over their honour.
From what he had seen so far, Geoffrey was convinced that the court ladies could handle their affairs perfectly well without any interference from him.
Take the new one, for example. Delia. Lovely little Delia of Eldorne. Only a couple inches taller than Alan, dainty and beautiful, the current court beauty. And an utter flirt who had all the males between the ages of about thirteen to twenty-three absolutely smitten with her. And that was probably underestimating it.
Well, not all the males. His knight-master, Alexander of Tirragen, showed no signs of surrendering his cat-like poise to the bright-eyed girl, and Alan looked as though he wanted to kill her from some reason that Geoffrey couldn’t quite fathom. So that she wouldn’t inspire any more bad poetry? So that she would stop making his friends jealous? So that she would stop making him jealous over Delia’s flirting with Jonathan? Geoffrey had certain suspicions about Alan of Trebond. Nothing malicious, of course, just simple logic. For Geoffrey’s red-haired friend seemed to show exactly that same interest in girls that –
“I haven’t missed anything, have I?” came a soft voice from Geoffrey’s left and he squeaked, almost falling off the railing. Getting his balance back just before he tumbled onto the in-door fencing court floor, Geoffrey glared at the voice’s owner.
Alexander of Tirragen – Alex – just grinned back. His dark hair was messy, his eyes bright, and his tunic was askew. In other words, he looked rather disheveled and almost - Geoffrey looked away quickly, and ignored the appearance of Duke Roger, who was straightening his own tunic and smoothing his hair. See no evil…
“No, you haven’t,” he answered, watching as the court filled with people. “It’s only been about fifty minutes since the challenge.”
Alex made a slight face and folded his arms onto the railing. “Please tell me that the rumor-mill was mistaken and they picked something more serious then Delia’s riding glove to fight over.”
Geoffrey had chosen a good spot to watch; the two of them had a perfect view. Gary getting ready on the right, Raoul on the left, the object of their fight watching from near a support pillar and looking for all the world as if she wanted to laugh. Glancing at the girl, Geoffrey shook his head.
“They didn’t.”
Alex rolled his eyes, but there was concern underneath the flippant gesture; Gary and Raoul were friends. “Idiots,” Alex muttered, “You wouldn’t do something this stupid, would you, Geoff?”
“Me? Mithros, no,” he replied, still dividing his attention between the two young knights, “’Sides, I’m only fifteen, too young to be interested in girls that much.”
“If you were a girl, you would be just the right age to be interested.” Alex commented quietly, and Geoffrey looked at him sharply. Alex’s expression was as secretive and unreadable as ever, but before Geoffrey could even think of trying to name the expression in Alex’s eyes a flicker of movement caught his attention. Turning his head back to around to face the fencing-court in front of him, Geoffrey saw that Gary and Raoul were standing in the center of the room. Duke Gareth of Naxon slowly got to his feet, his expression tired. Though that was nothing new, Geoffrey fancied that he was wishing that Gary were a child again, so he could give him a sharp smack for being so stupid.
But then again, Geoffrey had a habit of making up stories to go with people’s actions.
“Are you prepared?” the Duke asked his son and Raoul. The two faced him and bowed, then saluted him with their swords. Quickly they bowed and saluted each other before moving so that they were just a sword’s length apart.
“Cross your weapons,” a pause as Gary and Raoul did so and then, “Do honour to the laws of chivalry and to the customs of this land. Guard!”
Geoffrey forced himself to watch as Gary attacked, swinging his blade around towards Raoul’s arm. The large, normally cheerful knight blocked the attack with a clear ringing sound that made Geoffrey wince. They broke away from each other and circled, occasionally shouting insults. Personally, Geoffrey didn’t see the point; it was a waste of breath, and he always felt terribly embarrassed about doing it. But tradition was tradition, after all.
Raoul parried another attack by Gary and lunged in, sword aiming for his heart. Gary only just blocked it and stumbled back, eyes narrowed. They had fallen silent now, and were fighting in deadly earnest. Raoul lunged in again, and Gary blocked it awkwardly, stumbling and falling onto the ground to an audible gasp from the spectators. Geoffrey felt Alex move beside him, and when he glanced down he saw that his knight-master had his lips pressed together, his face pale and tense. Looking from Alex to Delia, he saw that the pretty girl wasn’t laughing anymore.
Gary rolled away and got to his feet. He came in with a series of chopping blows, trying to limit Raoul to defense. Raoul backed away, blocking Gary and then sending him a complex overhead pass that brought his sword within inches of his friend’s face.
“Oh, will you two stop it!” came a ringing voice. Turning with most of the spectators to look, Geoffrey saw that Delia had pushed her way through the crowd and had ducked between the panels in the railing. She was now standing on the actual court, and he heard more then a few mutters of ‘such unorthodox behavior, how dare she?’ from the older members of the crowd. The girl quickly made her way over to the knights, her face pale and eyes bright. Gary and Raoul must have heard her, but it wasn’t until Gary’s sword went over her head that they actually stopped.
“Put the blades down,” she whispered, voice unwavering through the obvious shock. Gary’s sword dropped to the floor with a clutter, and she turned her attention to Raoul. Reaching out, she curled her fingers around the blade and forced it to point downwards.
“This is ridiculous, boys,” Delia began quietly before being interrupted by a stern, “I quite agree.” The three of them turned to face Duke Gareth, Delia lowering her eyes before dropping into a curtsey. When she straightened, Geoffrey was close enough to see that her hand had left bloodstains on her velvet dress.
The Duke gave her a cold look before turning it onto Gary and Raoul. “My office, half an hour. Is that understood?” He didn’t wait for an answer and just strode off. Gary turned to Delia with a confused frown.
“Why did you do that?”
Alex smiled nastily. “She panicked,” he said softly to himself, and Geoffrey glanced at him questioningly. But Alex didn’t see him, for he had caught a look from someone else and nodded. Pushing himself away from the railing, Alex bumped into Geoffrey gently.
“I’ll be around later to help you with your mathematics,” he said, and smiled before jogging away. Geoffrey looked after him in surprise and then his eyes narrowed as he saw whom the knight had met up with. He turned back to the drama on the court; that at least he could watch without feeling.
But there was nothing to watch anymore. Delia, cradling her bloody hand, had been lead to the care of Duke Baird, and Raoul was wiping her blood off his sword. Gary was standing near him, and though Geoffrey couldn’t hear what was going on, it wasn’t too hard to imagine that Gary wasn’t congratulating his friend on a duel well fought.
Geoffrey swung himself off the railing and walked away, his mind replaying Alex jogging away to meet with someone. A certain tall, handsome someone. Unwanted, an image floated to the dreamy boy’s mind of Alex coming into the court later than he should, all disheveled and bright-eyed, and a few moments later a somewhat disheveled Duke Roger walking in through the same door.
Geoffrey would be the first to admit that he was somewhat absent-minded and naïve, but he wasn’t stupid.
Not by a long shot.
Geoffrey had been mildly surprised when Alex actually kept his word about the mathematics, and then reflected that he shouldn’t have been. Once Alex said he would do something, he tended to do it. It was just…
He would have felt better about being jealous if Alex had given him more of a reason.
Instead, the dark young knight had turned up at the normal time, not a hair out of place, and had proceeded to explain Geoffrey’s mathematics problems. Sometimes it worked, sometimes it didn’t, but there was always at least an hour spent on them.
This time, though, Alex paused mid-explanation and said mildly, “You aren’t listening, are you, Geoff?”
Geoffrey, startled, looked up and met Alex’s dark eyes. To tell the truth or not to tell the truth…
But what is the truth?
“The duel,” he began, and mentally cursed himself for his cowardice, “the duel today, you said that Lady Delia panicked…what did you mean?”
Alex smiled, and it wasn’t very nice. “The Lady Delia is playing with things she’d best leave alone. Flatter this knight, flirt with that one, juggle three or four declarations of love and marriage and try not to insult any of them…just court games, Geoff.”
“I thought you meant it was more serious then that?” Geoffrey said slowly, still confused. Court games he understood; the nobles at Persopolis had little else to amuse themselves with. Court games would account for a beginner like Delia, no matter how skilled, panicking if it looked like someone might get killed. The flirtations that Alex mentioned, those did not. They were the lighter side of court games, not worthy of Alex’s nasty little smile.
If…if she did panic, that is. It could have been calculated. If it was, then Delia was playing a far more serious game then Alex was letting on, a game worthy of that nasty, vindictive little smile. Geoffrey was thinking very quickly now, using his imagination to piece together the facts.
If the young, beautiful Delia was meddling in court politics, and if Alex was jealous…
“Do you love him?” Geoffrey asked without thinking, and then flushed at the question.
Alex went still and then asked, carefully, “Who?”
“Duke Roger,” Geoffrey’s voice was very clear. Alex didn’t answer straight away; he just looked at his dreamy squire with his expression unreadable, turning his quill over and over in his hands.
“Yes,” Alex raised a hand before Geoffrey could say anything, “but not the way you think. We’re not,” a quick grin, “‘sweethearts’, just lovers sometimes. I respect him too much for it to be anything more.”
Geoffrey was frowning. This wasn’t really adding up. “I don’t understand.”
Alex sighed and rubbed his head. “Don’t worry about it, Geoff.”
“But I’m going to,” he said softly, not taking his eyes away from Alex’s dark, secretive face, “Squires are meant to worry about their knights.”
“Even when their knights aren’t fighting anyone?”
“Knights are always fighting someone. The scenery and weapons just change, that’s all.” Alex met Geoffrey’s dreamy hazel eyes for a long, long time, and then laughed softly.
“Oh, Geoff, what a find you are.” The dark young knight leaned forward, and laid a soft, careful kiss on his squire’s lips. Geoffrey was too shocked to do anything but let it happen, and when Alex stopped, the boy was blushing furiously. Alex smiled, and gently ran the back of a finger down Geoffrey’s cheek.
“Alex…” Geoffrey’s voice was a whisper.
“You’re too good for such games, Geoff,” Alex said, his soft voice husky, “Much too good for them. Promise me you will stay out of them.” Geoffrey hesitated, until Alex added a pleading, “Please.”
“I promise.” It didn’t seem enough, so he continued, “On my honour as a squire of the realm, I promise to stay away from your court games.”
Alex gave him a crooked grin. “Good boy.” Geoffrey glared, so Alex kissed him again. As Geoffrey stiffed, he drew back with a frown.
“Don’t you want me to kiss you?”
“I…”
“I won’t do it again, if you wish it.” Geoffrey looked at Alex, and his heart did a little flip. Alex wouldn’t love him, couldn’t, maybe, but it would be nice…
“No,” he said at last, “I want you to kiss me.” Alex smiled at that, and leaned in. This time, Geoffrey kissed him back.
Fin.