Here are just a few reminders of my crazy story.
This is the generation before Natiselle.
I’m terrible at writing men so I guess I’m wondering if this sounds masculine (as masculine as a dude can be when with his crush) and different from Erion. Also, I’m trying to get the shipping feelings started. Let me know what you think!
Jerlorn –
“Marielle, may I ask you for a favor?” I asked, hiding my hands behind my back.
She looked up from her book and grinned. “Yes! Anything to pull me away from Aton!”
“Why are you reading him if you don’t like him?”
She threw up her hand as if to wave away a pest. “Eline is making me. She wants someone to discuss his philosophies with and apparently the entire Pravaci Court is not enough for her.”
I chuckled, “That sounds like her.” I hesitated, opening my mouth to say something clever, but the thought disappeared, so I clamped my mouth shut.
Marielle tilted her head quizzically, "So… the favor?"
"Will you walk with me?" The words fell out in rushed jumble.
She laughed. "That's the favor?"
"No!" I could feel my face burning. "No. But will you walk with me?"
“I’d be glad to,” she said as she set the tome on the side table.
We set off down the hall at and easy pace, the purple banners of the Camile Wing slowly fading into the translucent ones of the Court.
“I’m glad I could rescue you from Kitraton, but may I ask what you think of him?” I said as I led her towards the grand staircase.
“I don’t like his works at all, too much destiny and duty.” She thrust her finger into the air, made a funny face, and in a deep a haughty voice said, “One must always consider his station when making decisions. A lowly fisherman has no place debating as if he were king, that is not his role and should not waste his time when he could be fishing. Blah, blah, blahdy, blah. Look at me, I’m so smart.”
I could not help but laugh. “What do you think we should do then?”
“Well, what if that fisherman is more clever than the king?” she said in her regular register. “Maybe not in all things, but perhaps in a single instance he knows what is right. Should he stay quiet because he does not have a throne or jewels? Should the rest of the kingdom suffer because the king did not have all the perspectives? No! An idea is good or bad not matter its source,” she said.
No matter its source. The words rung in my ears. She was right, wisdom should always win. If only it was that easy. To see all men as men, no matter the lineage. To let a boy court a girl, no matter her station.
“But enough of my prattle,” she said. “What is this mysterious favor?”
“I’m having trouble with something.”
“Is that all you’ll tell me?” she giggled. She took on the deep voice again and started walking in what I assume was an impersonation of a man’s gait. “I’m Jerlorn, and I have secrets –”
“Stop, stop!” I laughed. “We have to get there first!”
“Fine then, let us make haste! I grow impatient!” She said, gathering her skirts so she could fly down the stairs.
A passing governess was about to chide her, but she caught sight of me and quickly closed her mouth.
Chuckling, I followed after her.
Once she reached the courtyard, she stopped and waited for me. When I did reach her, she had her eyes closed, her face tilted towards the midday sun.
“Come on then, stop your dilly dallying,” I said and started towards the greater grounds.
“I protest!” she said. “I have neither dillied nor dallied in my life!”
Gods how she made me smile. I was drunk on her joy.
“M’ lady!” A voice called after us. “You will burn!”
I turned and a harried maid was hurrying towards us with a parasol in hand.
“Oh, Your Highness! I did not realize it was you,” she said, dipping into a deep curtsy. She turned
to Marielle and asked, “Do you required someone to hold the shade?”
“No thank you, I don’t want to keep you,” Marielle said, taking the parasol.
The maid looked relieved, curtsied again, and made her way back inside.
“My how the palace is different… I have to worry about the sun now,” Marielle said, almost to herself.
“Maybe use it as a walking cane or as a sword. I could picture you fending off pack of bandits with that.” I said. “A warrior in lace!”
She shook her head at me. “The things you say! What imagination!” But, with a mischievous look in her eye, she swung the parasol around as if ready to defend us from an imaginary foe.
“All beware, Marielle the Mighty guardian of the realm,” I said.
She giggled, opened her mighty weapon, and began to use it for its true and much less exciting
purpose. “You are too much. But really, Jerlorn where are we going?”
“What, this open field is not enough for you?” I said.
She just gave me a look.
“It’s that building over there.” I pointed to a small building with a thatched roof and an overhang, black Vrualti and orange Ahitha banners fluttering in the breeze next to it. Unlike all the surrounding buildings there was no flurry of activity inside. At my request and my purse, the carpenters had taken the day as a holiday.
“Artisans and Innovation? What could you possibly need there?” She asked, her eyebrows knitting together.
“Well, I wanted to make something and I’m having a lot of trouble. If I were to ask one of the craftsmen, I would be making them late for their other projects. So, I thought I would ask you.” I said, hoping that she would say yes.
“You mean we’re going to the carpenter’s shop? You want help with woodwork?” She asked, a hopeful lilt to her voice.
“Yes? Is that alright?” I said.
“It’s wonderful! I have missed smell of saw dust, as strange as that is to say. I would love to help you. This is more a gift to me than anything.” She was practically bouncing.
“You want to go quicker, don’t you?”
She looked at me guiltily.
“Give me the parasol,” I said.
Marielle nearly threw it at me.
I closed it, tucked it under my arm, and ran after her. Her skirts slowed her down, but we made it in record time. “You’re mad.”
She smiled and huffed, “Would you have me any other way?” She straightened her skirts and tucked away some runaway strands of hair. “Shall we?”
“Yes, lets.” I said. The moment I opened the door for her, the dry scent of saw dust wafted out.
As soon as she crossed the threshold, she took a deep breath, inhaling the scent of sap and sawdust, and sighed. She went to the windows and gently pushed aside the curtains, brightening the room tenfold. Then she went and sat at the work bench, taking great interest in the wood, tools, and gloves strewn about. “So, what can I help you with?”
I took the stool next to her and pointed to my various failed attempts at carving. There were many blocks of white wood with rough edges, gouges, chips, and splinters in them. “It’s a lot harder than I initially thought,” I said sheepishly.
“Who gave you this?” She asked, picking up one of the blocks, turning it over in her hands.
“No one gave it to me. I didn’t want to bother anyone, so I just asked for some of their scraps.”
Marielle put a hand on my arm and shook her head at me. “Its no wonder you’re having trouble. This is Red Oak, one of the most difficult woods to work with. Red Oak pieces can outlast entire kingdoms and requires extremely skilled craftsmen.” She got up from the work bench and went towards the shelves of wood in the back. “Oh, this is so lovely, everything is labeled!” she said, turning a corner. “Ah ha! Would you like a white color or browner?”
Nightingales were brown, right? “Brown.”
“Butternut it is then,” she said and then sat back down next to me. She was so close that her skirts brushed against my trousers. “You see, this wood is a lot lighter and softer, making it easier to carve and is a good starting point for a beginner. It’s also a lot better if you want to make more intricate designs.”
It took all my might to pay attention to her words as the air between us became increasingly electric.
She set two blocks of the light brown wood on the table and grabbed a skinny, sharpened piece of charcoal. “This charcoal is so fine. Are you sure its alright for me to be doing this? I don’t want to use something so expensive.”
“I promise to pay them back.”
“Alright then,” she said, twirling the charcoal between her fingers. “First you should sketch a rough design of what you want onto the wood. This will give your reference and then you can refine the image as you get closer to the finished item.” She turned to look at me expectantly. “What would you like to make?”
“A Nightingale,” I said before I could lose my courage.
“Lovely! I like that much more than what I expected.”
“And what’s that?”
“The boar from last week’s hunt. I know it was prize game, but it was gruesome sight.” She shuddered lightly, “I don’t care for the mounted heads in the great hall.”
I made a mental note to make sure the boar wouldn’t go up with the rest of the game. Perhaps it would make a good tribute for a visiting emissary. “No, just a bird.”
Nodding, she began to sketch a plain bird with an open mouth. I watched as her quick fingers glided over the wood and brought a liveliness to it. She was done as quickly as she had started. She handed me the charcoal and said, “Now you. You can use mine for reference if you would like.”
I took it from her and when I put it to the wood, the charcoal’s point snapped off.
Giggling, she plucked the charcoal out of my hand. “Gently. The wood isn’t going to hurt you.” She grabbed a nearby knife and sharpened the charcoal before putting it back in my hand, her fingers guiding mine. “Try again.”
I looked at her and grumbled, “You’re having fun, aren’t you?”
With a grin she said, “Crown Prince, you’ve entered my realm now. Now stop stalling!”
After four more shattered pieces, I had a sketch that was much rougher than Marielle’s.
She looked at it quizzically before she took her index and smudged the lines in a way that saved my bird. Then she tested a blade on one of the scraps. Not finding it to her liking, she grabbed a sharpening stone and dragged the little knife back and forth. Then she pulled a glove onto her left hand before handing me one. “Put this on your right.”
“But yours is on your left.”
“Non-dominant hand,” she said as she made a shallow cut into the wood.
"How did you know that?”
She set down her knife and gave me a stern look. “Jerlorn, you forget how long I have known you!”
I held up my hands in surrender.
“Also, you carry your sword on your right hip. It would be hard to draw if that were your dominant hand.” She pointed to the sword that was indeed hanging from my right side. “Now, you should always cut with the grain. Take this and try to make a shallow cut going both ways. The one that gives the least resistance is how you should always cut.” She handed me the knife. “And Always cut away from yourself. I don’t want to think of the trouble I would be in if you died.”
“You wouldn’t miss me?” I feigned hurt.
“Can I give you my answer another day?” She said, grinning.
“As you wish,” I said, and my heart warmed at the thought of another day.
For the next few hours, Marielle guided and teased me mercilessly until my fingers were sore and my soul was as light as a feather.
After all the labor, I finally had a rough, vaguely birdlike figure – a figure that looked nothing like Marielle’s wonder.
“With the rough paper, you rub away the hard edges and splinters until it is as smooth a river stone,” she said, moving the paper over her nightingale in quick circles. “My father used to always say that we are all like stones. We begin as rough rock with edges that crumble and stab and tear. But over time, whether it be other rocks knocking into us or by water gently smoothing us over for centuries – we all become smooth as we are supposed to be. We all find our place in the world.” She did not look at me as she talked, she was too focused on the wood. The way the wood changed, you would have thought it was clay between her fingers.
“That’s beautiful…” I didn’t even mean to say it, it just slipped out.
She chuckled and looked at me with mirth, “It’s not even stained yet!”
“No not the wood, what your father used to say.” The way she was looking at me made me feel things that I shouldn’t. She wasn’t an advantageous match, I shouldn’t be torturing myself like this. “I think that is a beautiful way to think about humanity. He must have been incredibly wise. I wish that I could have known him.”
“He would have liked you.” Marielle looked as if her mind was far away, perhaps deep in a memory. “He liked honest people, people who are always looking out for others.”
“I think you’re describing yourself more than me,” I said, taking one of the sand papers and trying to mimic her movements.
“I don’t know what you mean,”
“Moving here. It must have been terribly hard for you to leave your family after your father was killed. It was brave. If our roles had been reversed, I don’t know if I could have done it.”
“There was a choice to be made, my feelings didn’t matter. The money I send home is more important than any of the comfort I could have given them. Bravery had nothing to do with it,” she said, looking down.
“Don’t do that,” I said, with much more force than I meant.
She stiffened and immediately the line between us sprung up. The line that dictated that she followed my every order, the line that demanded everyone followed my orders.
“Yes, I apologize.”
“No, that’s not what I meant.” I said, reaching for her. I wanted to take her hands in mine, I wanted it so badly. But, I stopped short and sat with my hand in the air like an idiot before I dropped it. “I – I, oh, never mind.” And I pushed back from the work bench, I shouldn’t have come. It was foolish to even entertain the thought of courting her.
“Your Highness, what did you mean?” she asked, though her voice was soft, hearing my title from her mouth was like a slap.
I stopped in my tracks. It was wrong to do this. The court would never accept her as a queen. I should leave. It would have been smart to leave.
There was a scrape as she pushed back her own stool and her footsteps whispered against the dirt floor until she was right behind me. “What did you mean?”
“I meant don’t undervalue yourself.” I turned to her and we were so close I could smell her perfume, something that made me think of warm cookies from the kitchen. “You are the most remarkable person I have ever met. I have met kings and queens from foreign lands and none of them have captivated me as you do. Your honesty and mirth. The way you question the world and urge others to do the same. Your strength. I don’t have enough words to tell you how much I admire you.”
She took a step back, a hand on her chest. “I don’t know what to say. I –” a blush was creeping into her cheeks and regret was creeping into my bones. I shouldn’t have said anything.
“Forgive me, I’ve made you uncomfortable. I’ll take my leave.”
“No, you haven’t. It is only that, no one has ever spoken to me like this.” A strand of hair fell from her braids. “Thank you, that’s what I should say. Thank you, your Highness.”
“Jer. Please, even if we were in front of the entire court, I beg that you call me by my name.”
Marielle smiled. “I don’t know about in front of all of them, but here, alone with you – thank you, Jer.”
When I write Erion, I try and make him think some comment or about her physical appearance, that he loves her, but a lot of it is based in how attractive he finds her. In contrast, I tried to write it so that Jer is in love with who Marielle is as person, rather than her physical characteristics – so he never describes her features, just her actions. So, my intent is to show that despite Erion being the main character, Jer is really the right one for Marielle. Did I achieve my goal?
Also, in order for Marielle to be a good lady’s maid she is constantly being taught. Jer though it would be nice for her to have the chance to be the expert in something (besides finding excuses to be alone with her).
And here is a bonus (much rougher) excerpt like 3-4 years later. Note: Solin Seblire is the Crown Coin Prince and has trained with Jer their entire lives. They are more brothers than friends. You dont have to edit this if you don't want to, just thought you'd enjoy it!
Solin – The skies opened up with all of their rage, each drop stinging across any bits of open flesh. Xios shuddered underneath me and snorted with displeasure.
“Jer, the storm isn’t –”
One look at him and my words fell away. The madman’s features were twisted in a feral grin and he was clearly enjoying himself. There was a violent flash of lightning that turned the world grey and Jer howled with joy.
Jer caught me looking at him and rammed me with his elbow. “What’s that look for?” He yelled over the sound of the rain, the wind, and the disgruntled horses.
“You’ve gone mad!” I tried to yell back, but the thunder drowned me out.
He laughed again and roared, “Can you feel it? The raw power in the air? It’s like the gods fight with us!”
“There is no enemy, but this cursed rain!” I yelled, pulling the collar of my coat higher.
“Oh, come now it’s not so bad –”. He looked at me, must have seen how miserable I was, and roared with laughter again. “Fine. Fine, the next tavern is only a half hour’s ride away.” He turned to the men behind us, who looked as half-drowned as I felt, and shouted, “To the tavern boys!”
A cheer erupted from them and with a newfound fervor, we rode into the night – fueled by the promise of warm beds and fiery ale. To an onlooker we must have looked like Rionel’s huntsmen, come to raze the countryside.
After a time, we arrived at the promised inn. Thankfully it had a covered area large enough for all of our horses. We all wiped them down and tied them securely before heading towards our own blessed refuge.
Jerlorn threw open the door and immediately stomped the mud from his boots and shook his head like a wet dog. He waved down the tavern maid and smiled at her warmly, “How are you doing this fine evening?”
She looked at him quizzically and I could see we were of the same mind – that my fine friend belonged in a madhouse. “Pay him no mind, a round of ale for him and all of us beleaguered wet men,” I said.
“So, everyone here?” She asked, gesturing to the fairly full tavern.
“Yes!” He grinned and then stood up on the bench and roared, “Tonight, drinks are on the Crowns!”
The following roar was tremendous.
I blinked up at him and yelled, “Get down you great loon!”
“Does he mean that? Everyone? All night?” The tavern maid asked, her eyes as big as saucers.
“We are good for it. Find me tomorrow morning and I will pay the debt in full,” I said as I pulled out my Seblire emerald ring from under my shirt.
Immediately she dropped into a curtsey and said, “Of course, Your Majesty”, before scurrying off to the rest of the tables.
Jerlorn was still egging on the raucous cheering from the bench. So, I got up and with a mighty yank, I pulled him from the bench. “What in three hells has gotten into you?” I said as I shook him.
“She accepted.” He grinned.
“What?”
“Marielle! I gave her a courtship bracelet and she accepted!” His eyes gleamed and he was nearly bouncing on his heels with glee.
I tackled him. “My gods that’s incredible.
