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Title: Maiden's Choice
Characters: Sephiroth/Aerith, Zack.
Prompt: 099: Author's Choice - Fork
Word Count: 1705
Rating: PG-13
A.N.: Medieval Fantasy world AU.
Previous | Next
It was a full two days before Sephiroth called for maidservants to tend to her. The older women clucked and cooed and inquired how she had been while sharing their pointed glances over her head. Sir Sephiroth treated her well, she said, and they were inclined to agree for the lack of bruises on her. Small dainties arrived and the side room was furnished, if sparingly, for a lady's use.
It did not escape the notice of the court. Sir Sephiroth had finally taken a mistress and all waited to see what would become of it. The man was mad with passion, they whispered, struck from above, his eyes blazing brighter, his movements quicker. He'd certainly found himself something besides blood to distract him.
Three days more of maddening intrigue and Sephiroth called for a priest.
-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-
“Would you like some of the wine?” he asked, coming up behind her. Aerith exhaled and turned away from the petal-strewn bed.
“Maiden's Peace, is it?” she asked and he nodded, scenting the herbs steeped in the bowl. Common enough bridal draft among the fine-born, meant to soothe nerves and ease the first night if a new husband forgot his strength. Aerith shook her head. “I'll go into this with my eyes wide open.”
Sephiroth set the decanter down. “There'll be no need. I wouldn't touch you, I said.” The girl didn't look as relieved as he thought she should.
“Won't there be questions when the chambermaid finds the bed untouched?”
Sephiroth picked up one stray petal from the sheets. “If we make a large enough mess of the place, there'll be nothing to ask.”
Aerith laughed, the first time Sephiroth had heard it. It was shortlived, but bright.
-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-
He was never truly warm to her, though he was not cold. “Do you require assistance with the packing?”
“There's nothing much to pack,” she said, and refilled his glass before the young page at his side could. She had slipped so easily into the role of an attentive lady, a little rough around the edges by nobles' estimation, but well-matched to his station. Somewhere, sometime, Sephiroth knew, he would have to step into his own role as well. A pampered and favored lady such as he'd let the world believe he considered her would doubtless be showered with trinkets and tokens of affection.
“Is there anything I should give you?”
Aerith turned, new green skirts twirling. “I beg your pardon?”
Sephiroth blinked. “I've arranged for your chambers at my holdings to be furnished as befits your position, but it may not fit your taste. Is there anything you would need?”
She smiled softly at him. “I'd have to see the place first, wouldn't I?”
“Ah, yes, I suppose.” Sephiroth waited. “If there is anything you need, anything at all...”
“My Lord, I am a village girl,” Aerith interrupted. “I've grown peas in with my roses and dug for vegetables in the red earth. I don't need to be coddled.”
Sephiroth swallowed. “I didn't mean-”
“I know.” She turned to the window, folding linens to place in the large chest. “You've done far more for me than any prisoner could expect, Sir Sephiroth. Please don't trouble yourself further on my behalf.”
Sephiroth nodded once and turned to leave. The lie he had asked her to live for his sake weighed heavier with each step. At the door it stopped him completely. “The offer stands.”
-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-
She did ask, eventually, while they were on their way to Junon. He had slowed his warbird enough to look in the carriage window. “Could I ride with you to the Keep and let the trunks come later? We're moving so slowly.”
There was certainly some benefit to choosing a girl of more robust tastes than the over-delicate things at court. He halted the train only long enough to swing her sideways into the saddle before him and spurred Ifalnah home.
-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-
“Is there a garden?” she asked as he led her through the grounds.
Sephiroth frowned. “There's land.” It was fighting men and trained war beasts his holdings were known for, not daffodils.
“May I ask a corner to cultivate my roses, then?” she asked, and it pleased him in a way to see her growing more comfortable in the place. It would make this all so much easier.
“Plant your roses,” he said, “and your peas.”
-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-
They'd been at Junon Keep but half a season when he began to see the change. The trees beneath his window were greener and there were quick day blooms where there had been none before. The dark earth was dug up and moved around, pressed into place to serve his Lady's wishes. Not a day passed by that he did not see some part of his land freshly rooted up, still pressed into furrows by the tines of a fork.
One day on his training grounds, he caught three of the men-at-arms sparring in a corner to avoid treading on a rascally daisy in the center. Indoors, his staff, long given to silence, hummed about their work, though they remained discreet. His steward even offered his young daughter's services as a lady's maid. Sephiroth consented and tried to think no more of the woman's touch pervading his home.
-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-
He visited her at night. Her chambers adjoined his, and she was pleasant enough company. He'd begun teaching her to ride on one of the smallest birds in his stables. She was proving adept at running his household and assured him that if the maids gossiped it was no more than women's ways.
Beyond that, nothing much had changed between them. She never asked his reasons, never indicated any discomfort of her own. Only sometimes, late at night, when the candles had burned low, he thought he saw something he remembered in her face, in the dim orange glow. He always turned away, though he longed to ask. If it did not recall to him such a younger state of mind, perhaps, if his heart were not already sworn away, who knew what there might be between him and the one he had brought to his home as wife.
-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-
One night she came to his room instead. “Please,” she began, unaccustomed to more than a token pretense at actually asking his favor. “Please,” her voice wavered and Sephiroth felt something tighten in him, sure she'd come to ask for what he was not sure he could give.
“Can you find my mother?”
Sephiroth blinked. He remembered eyes like hers, cheeks and lips, and being pressed into a warm bosom. He'd been little more than a babe then. Later, there'd been a girlish smile and a short blade pressed into his hands as he practiced at being the man he would become. Of course.
“Of course,” he said out loud, and studiously went back to his reading.
-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-
“He's certainly taking his time about it. He can't be spending all his vigor in the training grounds.”
“Mayhap she's slow to catch. Might be to her own good. She's a tiny thing beside him yet.”
“Aye, a bearing would be hard. Best let her reach her full bloom first.”
“On with ye. Wait too long and she'll wither. We've waited long enough for his sons as it is.”
Sephiroth went back the way he had come and pretended he had not heard. He retreated to his own quiet reading room overlooking the main entryway. There he settled in an old chair near the window and sighed. This was a problem indeed. Heirs were reason enough to wed, and now that he finally had, of course people would expect issue.
A tumult at the gate drew his attention away from a downward spiral of thought. Zack had returned.
-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-
Zack found Aerith exceedingly lovely and she doted on him in return. The hall was loud that night with ringing laughter from them both, and Sephiroth was both pained and relieved at the din.
“She's lovely, you lucky hound,” Zack congratulated when Aerith had finally retired for the night. “Though you could have invited me to the wedding.”
“There wasn't much time for it,” Sephiroth murmured, absorbed in the way Zack cocked his head in interest.
“So I heard, but for all the rumor there was, I'm a bit disappointed in you, Sephiroth. The talk was you hurried the ceremony to cover a scandal and yet I find her slender as a reed.”
It took a moment for Zack's meaning to sink in. “Ah,” Sephiroth said and could say no more. It weighed heavily on him now, more so with Zack nearby.
“Cheer up, Sephiroth.” Zack grinned and clapped him on the shoulder. “Shouldn't take you too much longer, I'd bet.” Sephiroth never blushed but he turned his face to the fire just in case.
-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-
Sephiroth's holdings were extensive, well-guarded and safe. Aerith freely took to riding the wider trails alone, finding something new each time. The paths circled the wood and curled through it. She'd already taken the left fork before and the right was well-lit up with sunshine.
She rode alongside a stream a part of the way, till it joined the larger river that led her to an abandoned mill. The wheel still turned, if sluggishly, but the roof of the place had long vanished and the walls had begun to crumble.
Two chocobos stood tethered to a tree nearby, Sephiroth's own Ifalnah and the energetic one Zack had named 'Feathers'. Aerith slid off her bird and picked her way through the thickets to greet them.
She found a window before she found a door. Inside, Zack buzzed around, chattering at will, as was his way, oblivious to the look Sephiroth directed at his back, a look Aerith knew the meaning of, but had never seen Sephiroth cast her way.
Characters: Sephiroth/Aerith, Zack.
Prompt: 099: Author's Choice - Fork
Word Count: 1705
Rating: PG-13
A.N.: Medieval Fantasy world AU.
Previous | Next
It was a full two days before Sephiroth called for maidservants to tend to her. The older women clucked and cooed and inquired how she had been while sharing their pointed glances over her head. Sir Sephiroth treated her well, she said, and they were inclined to agree for the lack of bruises on her. Small dainties arrived and the side room was furnished, if sparingly, for a lady's use.
It did not escape the notice of the court. Sir Sephiroth had finally taken a mistress and all waited to see what would become of it. The man was mad with passion, they whispered, struck from above, his eyes blazing brighter, his movements quicker. He'd certainly found himself something besides blood to distract him.
Three days more of maddening intrigue and Sephiroth called for a priest.
-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-
“Would you like some of the wine?” he asked, coming up behind her. Aerith exhaled and turned away from the petal-strewn bed.
“Maiden's Peace, is it?” she asked and he nodded, scenting the herbs steeped in the bowl. Common enough bridal draft among the fine-born, meant to soothe nerves and ease the first night if a new husband forgot his strength. Aerith shook her head. “I'll go into this with my eyes wide open.”
Sephiroth set the decanter down. “There'll be no need. I wouldn't touch you, I said.” The girl didn't look as relieved as he thought she should.
“Won't there be questions when the chambermaid finds the bed untouched?”
Sephiroth picked up one stray petal from the sheets. “If we make a large enough mess of the place, there'll be nothing to ask.”
Aerith laughed, the first time Sephiroth had heard it. It was shortlived, but bright.
-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-
He was never truly warm to her, though he was not cold. “Do you require assistance with the packing?”
“There's nothing much to pack,” she said, and refilled his glass before the young page at his side could. She had slipped so easily into the role of an attentive lady, a little rough around the edges by nobles' estimation, but well-matched to his station. Somewhere, sometime, Sephiroth knew, he would have to step into his own role as well. A pampered and favored lady such as he'd let the world believe he considered her would doubtless be showered with trinkets and tokens of affection.
“Is there anything I should give you?”
Aerith turned, new green skirts twirling. “I beg your pardon?”
Sephiroth blinked. “I've arranged for your chambers at my holdings to be furnished as befits your position, but it may not fit your taste. Is there anything you would need?”
She smiled softly at him. “I'd have to see the place first, wouldn't I?”
“Ah, yes, I suppose.” Sephiroth waited. “If there is anything you need, anything at all...”
“My Lord, I am a village girl,” Aerith interrupted. “I've grown peas in with my roses and dug for vegetables in the red earth. I don't need to be coddled.”
Sephiroth swallowed. “I didn't mean-”
“I know.” She turned to the window, folding linens to place in the large chest. “You've done far more for me than any prisoner could expect, Sir Sephiroth. Please don't trouble yourself further on my behalf.”
Sephiroth nodded once and turned to leave. The lie he had asked her to live for his sake weighed heavier with each step. At the door it stopped him completely. “The offer stands.”
-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-
She did ask, eventually, while they were on their way to Junon. He had slowed his warbird enough to look in the carriage window. “Could I ride with you to the Keep and let the trunks come later? We're moving so slowly.”
There was certainly some benefit to choosing a girl of more robust tastes than the over-delicate things at court. He halted the train only long enough to swing her sideways into the saddle before him and spurred Ifalnah home.
-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-
“Is there a garden?” she asked as he led her through the grounds.
Sephiroth frowned. “There's land.” It was fighting men and trained war beasts his holdings were known for, not daffodils.
“May I ask a corner to cultivate my roses, then?” she asked, and it pleased him in a way to see her growing more comfortable in the place. It would make this all so much easier.
“Plant your roses,” he said, “and your peas.”
-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-
They'd been at Junon Keep but half a season when he began to see the change. The trees beneath his window were greener and there were quick day blooms where there had been none before. The dark earth was dug up and moved around, pressed into place to serve his Lady's wishes. Not a day passed by that he did not see some part of his land freshly rooted up, still pressed into furrows by the tines of a fork.
One day on his training grounds, he caught three of the men-at-arms sparring in a corner to avoid treading on a rascally daisy in the center. Indoors, his staff, long given to silence, hummed about their work, though they remained discreet. His steward even offered his young daughter's services as a lady's maid. Sephiroth consented and tried to think no more of the woman's touch pervading his home.
-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-
He visited her at night. Her chambers adjoined his, and she was pleasant enough company. He'd begun teaching her to ride on one of the smallest birds in his stables. She was proving adept at running his household and assured him that if the maids gossiped it was no more than women's ways.
Beyond that, nothing much had changed between them. She never asked his reasons, never indicated any discomfort of her own. Only sometimes, late at night, when the candles had burned low, he thought he saw something he remembered in her face, in the dim orange glow. He always turned away, though he longed to ask. If it did not recall to him such a younger state of mind, perhaps, if his heart were not already sworn away, who knew what there might be between him and the one he had brought to his home as wife.
-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-
One night she came to his room instead. “Please,” she began, unaccustomed to more than a token pretense at actually asking his favor. “Please,” her voice wavered and Sephiroth felt something tighten in him, sure she'd come to ask for what he was not sure he could give.
“Can you find my mother?”
Sephiroth blinked. He remembered eyes like hers, cheeks and lips, and being pressed into a warm bosom. He'd been little more than a babe then. Later, there'd been a girlish smile and a short blade pressed into his hands as he practiced at being the man he would become. Of course.
“Of course,” he said out loud, and studiously went back to his reading.
-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-
“He's certainly taking his time about it. He can't be spending all his vigor in the training grounds.”
“Mayhap she's slow to catch. Might be to her own good. She's a tiny thing beside him yet.”
“Aye, a bearing would be hard. Best let her reach her full bloom first.”
“On with ye. Wait too long and she'll wither. We've waited long enough for his sons as it is.”
Sephiroth went back the way he had come and pretended he had not heard. He retreated to his own quiet reading room overlooking the main entryway. There he settled in an old chair near the window and sighed. This was a problem indeed. Heirs were reason enough to wed, and now that he finally had, of course people would expect issue.
A tumult at the gate drew his attention away from a downward spiral of thought. Zack had returned.
-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-
Zack found Aerith exceedingly lovely and she doted on him in return. The hall was loud that night with ringing laughter from them both, and Sephiroth was both pained and relieved at the din.
“She's lovely, you lucky hound,” Zack congratulated when Aerith had finally retired for the night. “Though you could have invited me to the wedding.”
“There wasn't much time for it,” Sephiroth murmured, absorbed in the way Zack cocked his head in interest.
“So I heard, but for all the rumor there was, I'm a bit disappointed in you, Sephiroth. The talk was you hurried the ceremony to cover a scandal and yet I find her slender as a reed.”
It took a moment for Zack's meaning to sink in. “Ah,” Sephiroth said and could say no more. It weighed heavily on him now, more so with Zack nearby.
“Cheer up, Sephiroth.” Zack grinned and clapped him on the shoulder. “Shouldn't take you too much longer, I'd bet.” Sephiroth never blushed but he turned his face to the fire just in case.
-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-
Sephiroth's holdings were extensive, well-guarded and safe. Aerith freely took to riding the wider trails alone, finding something new each time. The paths circled the wood and curled through it. She'd already taken the left fork before and the right was well-lit up with sunshine.
She rode alongside a stream a part of the way, till it joined the larger river that led her to an abandoned mill. The wheel still turned, if sluggishly, but the roof of the place had long vanished and the walls had begun to crumble.
Two chocobos stood tethered to a tree nearby, Sephiroth's own Ifalnah and the energetic one Zack had named 'Feathers'. Aerith slid off her bird and picked her way through the thickets to greet them.
She found a window before she found a door. Inside, Zack buzzed around, chattering at will, as was his way, oblivious to the look Sephiroth directed at his back, a look Aerith knew the meaning of, but had never seen Sephiroth cast her way.
