Fools to Make War // Isolde

[Sir Judicaël Launcelyn]

Judicaël dismounted his steed, a brilliant grey stallion with the heart of a gladiator and the eyes of amber, and surveyed his surroundings. It had been a few months (a long few months) since he had been outside of Solraya, as he almost couldn't bear the memories that came with the sweet smell of grass, the open lands, and the sounds of wild birds adorning the trees about the woods. But he tried to keep these memories from stopping him; after all, Judicaël was here with good reason. It was not everyday he came outside his estate or the Solrayan court--those were the places where he could be someone a little more courageous, with a touch more charm, and a little less worry.

But it was, and had been clear for some time that Judicaël needed this. He hadn't told anyone where he was going and he'd just left. The wind whispered something to him, and he smiled at the memory of a beautiful woman, the one he'd once loved, the one who was permanently locked away in the sequestered chambers of his heart. He couldn't help but wonder what would be different now, with all the years having passed, if she'd been with him. But this, he swore he would never tell. As far as everyone knew, he was a pristine knight who, though his parentage was foreign, was and had always been a bachelor. He didn't need the associations that went with this past experience now, because times had changed in Judicaël's life. He was a victim of the tide and had to follow its ebb and flow.

He tucked his stallion's reigns into its crownpiece and left the horse to graze while he wandered toward the 'ruins' himself. The hill provided a nice view, a serene quiet, and a sense of security from the woes of Judicaël's past. He didn't need those anymore.

As Judicaël watched his stallion grazing and felt the rushing wind on his face, he noticed a disturbance in the horizon. He was no longer alone, he felt, and he watched to see who was coming to join him, and wondered if he should instead retreat to the woods with his horse. He had time, surely, to get away. But no, he was a valiant, brave knight. No one could hurt him, he knew. He sat down easily and sighed. Something about the rugged landscape of the countryside soothed Judicaël and reminded him of a life he used to know, a fairytale.

One he'd never have again.

// Lyrics from BROTHERS IN ARMS by DIRE STRAITS
// Graphics copyright Flik @ Caution 2.0

[Isolde]

ooc;; i promise other posts will be better.

-- Isolde was tired of sitting around mending other people's fancy clothes. The high quality fabric sliding through her fingers. The silk smooth and cool. Sometimes she couldn't help but just hold it up to her own body - trying to imagine what she would look like as a lady. But surely ladies did not have near as much fun as she did, nor the freedoms she enjoyed. She sighed and dropped the expensive garment on her bed. It could wait until later. The mend wouldn't take but a few moments. Right now she had to get out of this stuffy house and just run away for a while. Nothing in this stinky city intrigued her. How she wished she were back home. But going back home was impossible.

-- She strode out of her house and onto the street. She made her way to the livery stable. Luckily, she had quite a few friends who owed her some favors. "Good morning!" She called to the stable hand, offering him a polite smile. The boy knew her and always grew bashful in her presence. Then again, the blonde beauty had that effect on some grown men as well. "I need a horse for the day. I promise I will bring it back sound and just as healthy as when I took it." And nonchalantly brushed her hand against her coin purse; the coins inside jingling. The boy wasn't dim and got the hint, hurrying to find a horse for her.

-- The horse was a cute little mare who seemed to have a spark in her step. Her head was held high and she pranced as the stable boy tried to saddle her. Isolde soothed the horse and walked her outside to mount. The mare was a fury and tried to run and blot at every opportunity. And once outside the city gates Isolde threw the reins away and let the mare run towards the horizon. Her mind guided her to the ruins. She always loved exploring them. Often times she inquired about them, but no one knew or wanted to talk about it. Maybe someday she would finally find out.

-- The little mare puffed loudly as Isolde reined her down to a walk. Today she was not alone. Someone else had the same thought as she. It was a man - she could tell that much from this far away. He was a large, well-built man who had an equally large and well-built horse. By the looks of it he was probably a noble or something. Average peasants didn't own horses, let alone one that gorgeous and obviously of good breeding. Not once did she think of the man being dangerous. Isolde had always been a risk taker. She loved the rush of doing something daring and possibly dangerous.

-- At a safe distance, she dismounted and let the mare graze. "Hello there!" Isolde called out, waving, as she approached them man. He was even more intimidating than she had first thought. "What brings you to the ruins today?" Isolde said politely enough, but didn't offer a curtsy or even a nod of her head. Out here, everyone was equal. The countryside held no spies, no rules of formality. No one came out here because they were happy inside the limits of Solraya. They came out here to get away, to escape their troubles and confines of their duty or station.

[Sir Judicaël Launcelyn]

Judicaël, now a nobleman, a repectable landowner, and of more importance than he'd ever fathomed, played himself down. After all, if it was conning and silence of the truth that had won him this life, he'd have to put in even more conning and deceit to keep it up. And so far, he'd played up well-- now, even he believed the show he put on. No longer did he know that he was once a deeper person, for something in his mind had blocked it out, tucked it away.

The memories only reminded him of the bad things he'd done, and it would take something big to change him back, only he wasn't aware he had to change nor was he aware that he'd ever been something else. Funny how the mind works, really. It can block out anything.

These thoughts never crossed Judicaël's mind. Now he only thought of women, of play, of better lies, and of anything except his past. As he sat here atop the 'ruins,' Judicaël remembered the pain he'd suffered before he'd recreated himself. Found himself, in his mind. And as he thought, he watched the figure on the horizon as it turned into two figures, a dame and a mount. This woman was no noble, he could tell as she approached, nor was the horse strong. But something about her demeanor, and the way she rode up fearlessly, told him she was no lowly serf.

Judicaël watched with intrigue as she dismounted and came to join him, no fear apparent about her. He knew, as he should, the more relaxed mannerisms of the country, for life's experiences had taught him well. It seemed out of place, though, for a woman to be approaching him, standing so tall as she was, without respect apparent. But he smiled. Something about it made him want to laugh.

She reached him, no courtsy as he had anticipated, and began a casual conversation without qualms. "Good-day, madam, indeed." He grinned. Poor or no, a pretty woman was a pretty woman. Wealth did not carve the body. And as he could now clearly see, the woman before him was beautiful. "Fair one, I am brought here by a burning need to escape the escapades and antics of court. I take it you are familiar with this country?" He smiled and stood to meet her in kind. Indeed, as he gazed at her eyes, her hair, she was gorgeous.

// Lyrics from BROTHERS IN ARMS by DIRE STRAITS
// Graphics copyright Flik @ Caution 2.0

[Isolde]

-- Isolde quickly put her desire of exploring the ruins and trying to find it's carefully hidden secret to the back of her mind. How could she even begin to concentrate on something like that when there was a very handsome man in front of her? She had never seen him before, which intrigued her even more. Her sense of discovery and curiosity always got the best of her. She had always been headstrong and rather flighty at times. How could she stay in one spot when there were so many new things to see! Even though she had lived in Solraya for a fairly long time, she always found new things to discover. She could never understand why other people didn't enjoy the love for adventure as much as she did.

-- Although she wasn't afraid of the man, she still kept a watchful eye on his body language. You could never be too careful anymore. With the rebels and everything. But here? Isolde wasn't very worried. She was almost sure the rebels wouldn't venture this far into the countryside and if they did, it surely wouldn't be to attack whoever happened to pass by. She meant no harm. And Isolde got the feeling this place was kept a secret by the people of Solraya and anyone who found it was lucky enough to stumble upon it on on their own.

-- He spoke to her. Isolde was rather afraid he would leave, or not answer. He seemed nice enough to hold a good conversation with. She loved talking with people, not matter their station or rank. Her skirts caught in the grass as she walked closer to the man, now able to pick out facial features. However his words almost made her scowl with displeasure. Court. Normally she couldn't stand the lords and ladies of the court, or anyone associated with it. They always seemed to think they were better than everyone else. Just because they were rich and had noble blood didn't give them any rights to treat people beneath them like the dirt.

-- Isolde, however, couldn't blame him for wanting to leave. She hated the people of the court, but wondered how exciting it must be. It was one thing she had never experienced before. Well, at least not here. Did courts work differently here? A slow nod made her wavy hair bounce. "I do. I've spent most of my days exploring it." She walked slowly, her delicate fingers dangling in the taller grass, pulling some out then letting it fall back to the earth. Within a few steps she was standing directly in front of the man. Giving herself a moment to study him, she pondered what kind of noble he was. Lord perhaps? No. He was too rugged. And besides, the lords and counts were never caught in the countryside alone outside of their marvelous estates. Could he be a knight perhaps? One of the king's most trusted?

-- Not humbled, she held his gaze and stood her ground. Isolde knew the punishments and laws that surrounded nobles. Isolde paid no mind to them now. She only ever did when their was money on the line. "I take it you are not a fan of court? But surely it must be fascinating. Seeing all the ladies gossip and swoon. All the men discussing matters that they have no control over." Her voice was bold and silky. Silently, she chided herself. She had better stop while she was ahead. Although she did not care about formalities, Isolde would rather not be punished, or make a bad first impression. Especially while in the company of a handsome man.

[Sir Judicaël Launcelyn]

The part that Judicaël wanted to forget of his past was relatively simple. He'd lived with a father and mother who despised eachother, in another kingdom far from Solraya, and found solace only in his twin brother, Nathanaël. After a miserable childhood, the house caught fire and Judicaël's parents had both died. That was only the beginning of his story, for it was after he ran away that Judicaël's real story started. But that was the part that he refused to remember, and would never recount.

When he'd eventually wandered far enough and gotten himself into the kingdom of Solraya, settled in, and made his way up the ranks to be one of the king's best men, it was easy to forget. He now focused on the things that mattered in Court. He trained daily, rode daily, and often found himself promiscuous among the women of the court. He managed his own small estate and looked about the business of the court, plotting defenses and eagerly awaiting the next chance to engage in war. That was a knight's life, and it was that life that Judicaël reveled in day in and day out.

Only, it wasn't exactly exciting. The same thing so often did get to him.

He frowned slightly as he watched her walk. She was graceful, so graceful, with every step parting the grass lightly and her fingertips brushing the tops of the tall plant. As she moved, he watched, enchanted and enticed. Something about her, her aura perhaps, radiated purity, innocence--and pride. Her head held high, he harkened. Subtle signs of her comfortable countryside heritage shone in her eyes and her demeanor, as he could see she didn't take well to his manner of speech.

He tried to soothe his own speech, and recall that of his younger years. It was just that Judicaël had learned all too quickly once he'd reached the Solrayan Court to speak in formality at all times, and never resort to a language that the king and his court were sure to question. "It's lovely," he commented, and said no more. He smiled and hoped it could fill the awkward void, for he had suddenly begun to feel self-concious. Judicaël knew he was the one in this couple that was out of place in the countryside.

The girl looked him in the eye and didn't seem to care about normal gender roles or formalities. He chucked throatily and responded gently, "Fascinating, it is. I do like it, though not as everyone else does. The women are not as you think; they are false, but good fun." He paused and tried to forget that particular train of thought. "But I will say, I find the country girls so much more beautiful." He knew he'd already lost his chances and gone too far. Perhaps he should quiet down or try and make her forget what he'd just said.

"I'm, euh, Sir Launcelyn." He said, beaming.

// Lyrics from BROTHERS IN ARMS by DIRE STRAITS
// Graphics copyright Flik @ Caution 2.0

[Isolde]

-- Isolde could tell the traces of a small frown forming? Was he upset at her bold actions? Her apparent lack of fear and respect of his higher title? It would give him something to think about. She was in stark contrast to the proper ladies of the court. The thought of her in court almost made her laugh out loud. How silly she would look with her hair properly done up and fancy garments. How her sister and brother would laugh. She did miss them and think about them from time to time. But she remembered how they had looked upon her during her final days in their company. Had they felt any remorse for her? Probably not. Although she and her sister loved each other, Isolde knew there was always a part of Adelaide that was jealous of her sister's attention and was glad she could have the spotlight since Isolde had been shunned from any sort of activity that involved showing her face somewhere.

-- She could see where the man before her could be confused. Not all peasants carried themselves in the manner that she did. Mostly they kept their heads down, just trying to get through the day. She attributed it to her...better than peasant background. That time in her life was over and now she was a peasant. Nothing more than a lowly seamstress. It had never bothered her, and never would. Isolde would never trade her life now for her old one. It was much more comfortable here - she felt truly at home in Solraya. She hoped she would never have to leave. Sometimes, however, leaving was your only option. This time, she would be more careful. She would guard her heart with iron chains. Luckily, she was not as naive as when she was a young girl.

-- At first the man seemed to loosen up a little, then he grew tense again. What she wouldn't give to see inside his mind. To know exactly what he was thinking at that very moment. His chuckle seemed slightly forced in a way. Then he continued to speak of court and the ladies. He did not need to speak of court. But then again, why would a simple peasant girl know of the workings of court? Keeping up her story and facade was everything. "Oh I'm sure they are. I've heard stories." Isolde smirked mischievously. What would he think if he knew she had been one of those ladies? Oh but she would never tell. Not even on her death bed. No one was getting that secret out of her. Sometimes she wouldn't even admit it to herself.

-- Continuing to grin, Isolde almost rolled her eyes. "We aren't bound by as many formalities. I also like to think it's because we don't have our hair pulled so high or the very breath squeezed from our chests." She refused to wear a corset ever again. Whoever had thought they were a good idea must have been a man. No woman would subject themselves to that sort of thing without a good reason. Isolde embraced her curves with pride. What you see is what you get. "Well, it's very nice to meet you...Sir Launcelyn." The formal title was forced through her plump lips. "You may just simply call me Isolde. I'm most definitely not a lady." Her tone was playful and laced with a hidden meaning. He could take it however he wished.

[Sir Judicaël Launcelyn]

Judicaël bit his lip as he looked about the ruins. It wasn't much of a place, really, just a hill, but he liked the mystical aura he got from it. It was a reminder of an easier time, a few years he had spent freely, doing as he pleased. But those years were long gone, and though he mourned them, Judicaël didn't let himself stay caught in their tethers. After all, he had stored up rather angry feelings of the time as well, mostly directed toward his own stupidity.

And he was a living paradox, for that same boyish stupidity was what he displayed at the court. It was unlike earlier, for now he knew the difference, and knew that at court, it was only a necessary evil. But this evil was something he worked hard to convince himself was who he really was, and the more he forced it upon himself, the more he became the person he faked. He was a man, sure, and he did enjoy the sex that came with his title. But it wasn't love. He knew that-he just refused to believe it.

He thought that she could read him. This girl, so fair, so bonny, was staring into his very soul, reading his thoughts and cunningly playing the innocent. He was, frankly, taken.

He smiled sheepishly at what he'd said, and realised prominently that she didn't seem to be embarassed or deterred by it. Actually, he almost envisioned a naughty smile playing upon her lips, but dismissed it as his own fancy. With not so much as a smirk, he replied, "I spoke too much, mylady. Pardon me, I pri'thee." He shot her a sideways grin, as he tried very hard (but didn't much succeed) to relax into his less formal speech.

"I think it very becoming," he replied softly, "and very beautiful. Very, very beautiful." Judicaël let his words fly up in the wind and caress the trees. He allowed his eyes feast upon her soft face, so natural and pure. Her ivory face was not something that the ladies of the court could fathom having, not even with all their powders and concauctions. And her eyes, they were her bonniest feature. So blue, so pure. "Isolde," he savoured. A naughty smile broke upon his lips and he finished, "Lady or no, you could rival a queen for beauty, mylady." That was for ironic effect. Irony never grew old, nor did pretty women.

// Lyrics from BROTHERS IN ARMS by DIRE STRAITS
// Graphics copyright Flik @ Caution 2.0

[Isolde]

-- Isolde got as close to him as she dared, but never breaking their eye contact. Maybe she should change her attitude, but it was too late now. She really should have thought about that. Since when did she think ahead though? There was just something about him that intrigued her. It was probably due to the fact he wasn't just another dull peasant boy. She had her fair share of them - enough to last a life time. Maybe it was time she set her sights higher. Sir Launcelyn was certainly handsome and regal. Trying to charm him would certainly be fun. That's all it really was to her was a game, something to entertain herself. Surely he would be a lot harder to win over than the boys in the city. He was used to the women of the court. He would know all their tricks and playful ways.

-- His formal speech was becoming rather tiring. "Sir Launcelyn, formalities are not needed out here, no one will hear us." She just wanted him to relax. Isolde couldn't imagine how much more handsome he would look if he wouldn't carry his face so tight, as if he were carrying the tiresome traditions of court. It had certainly exhausted her. Isolde couldn't be happier that she had gotten out of it. Without thinking she laid a hand on her stomach for a brief moment. After all, it's what had gotten her out of court and allowed her to start over. Isolde realized what she had done and brought her hand down to smooth her skirts, as she always did when she felt uncomfortable or nervous.

-- Once again he referred to her as beautiful. The words were nothing new, but it still brought a small flush to her smooth cheeks. She loved the way he said her name. The way it gently rolled off his tongue. It almost brought on a small shiver. Isolde once again flushed. "Oh, you're too kind. I am certain my beauty could not rival our own queen's. For she must be very beautiful." She had only caught one glimpse of her queen and she had been very pretty, gorgeous even. Queen Danielle could never be compared to a simple seamstress.

-- Boldly she took one more step closer to the man before her. She wondered how far she could go. The warm breeze gently caressed her face and played with her hair, blowing it out of her eyes and away from her face. Her blue eyes shone with a playful childlike intensity. It was quite obvious she was having fun. The flirting and the chance she would step out of line and offend him. But out here was was invigorated by her surrounding and the wide open spaces of the country side.

[Sir Judicaël Launcelyn]

What really made Judicaël's heart reel was music. So it had been all his life. Funny, the things that made him think of it. Just to be out here in this meadow, surrouned by forests and stones, recalled to his memory the music of the gypsy band he'd once known, where he'd met someone that had changed the course of his life. Incredible, the human senses, and Judicaël almost laughed at the prospect.

He sighed a little and again forgot what he could. He was getting better at it every day, this self-convincing. But nine years hadn't made a huge difference; what would another nine do? Judicaël knew he needed to settle into this life. This long at court, and he'd not found a wife yet- Fie on that! He should have long ago found a betrothal. It wasn't like the women didn't want to marry a valiant knight- he just didn't want them.

With a shake of his head, Judicaël chucked throatily and replied with the calmest manner he could muster, "It seems I cannot drop my courtly speak. I am wondrous bad at adapting." He smiled innocently and ran a hand through his long brown hair, fixing where the wind had so carelessly plastered it to his face.

He carefully watched her reaction and wondered if he could elicit more from her with more compliments, or if she was not one of the easily tricked country girls, who would bed any nobleman that so much as cast a glace their way. No, she wasn't one of those. There was too much pride in her eyes. He bit his lip and upon realising that he was doing so, shook his head. "Ah, but beauty finds many different forms, lady." He quickly corrected himself, "Isolde." And upon saying this, he smiled more and wondered if he should not offer up his own given name. It was a nice one, for sure.

"And, pardon me, Isolde. My manners are lacking; you may call me Judicaël." He smiled warmly, invitingly. He wanted her to approach him. He didn't want her to hesitate, nor fear him. There was nothing to fear, not for such an exquisite woman as she was.

He smiled again, with a little more malice, a little more greed. He hoped she would understand.

// Lyrics from BROTHERS IN ARMS by DIRE STRAITS
// Graphics copyright Flik @ Caution 2.0

[Isolde]

-- As she looked at him, studied him, she could see the court and the noble blood within him. Of course she couldn't help but feel a little stand-offish. She had met his kind many times over the course of her rather short but experienced life time. They all seemed different at first; so kind and nice. Then slowly they showed their true colors. Men of the court didn't care for anything but good drink and good, easy women. Isolde was definitely not the latter. She was already ruined, so what was the harm in bedding a good man now and again? It wasn't as if she was a whore. Back home that's what people though, no thanks to...him. That was in her past, in her old life. Now she was simply Isolde - the seamstress and temptress. Isolde knew better than to trust or fall for the man's tricks and smooth words. He knew better than anyone how to win over a woman, more so than any man in the village could ever even dream of. Being at court changed a person.

-- "You'd be surprised at how much you will change with a short stay in the country side." Isolde said smoothly, her voice like the finest of silk which clad the ladies of the court he had so much fun with. For a moment she could pretend as if she were back at court playing all the petty games. All the flirting and dancing and drinking. Isolde had no desire, however, to return to court. It had never been boring though. She much preferred her simple life to one at court. As much as her previous situation had cost her, where she was now made it all worth it. She had gained so much more than she had lost. A grin spread across her face as he corrected himself. It had been so long since anyone had called her lady! The title was not missed. The formalities had driven her half mad. She had never remembered them and usually had to apologize. Luckily she had beauty to rely upon when she made a fatal mistake.

-- Isolde took a few more steps closer as she spoke his name softly, just letting it roll off her tongue. She did have to admit, Judicael was very handsome and most certainly very charming. She was finding it more and more difficult to not fall for his sweet words and give into her secret want. Then there was that smile, it sent her blood and heart racing. Could she even remember the last time a man had made her feel this way simply by smiling at her? Of course she could tell it was no ordinary smile. She had seen that look many times before. Isolde offered a coy smile in return. Her restraint lessened. How she longed to be even closer to him, to really find out who was the man behind the formal words. Surely he had something about him. All noblemen had something. They weren't as daft as everyone thought they were. Isolde just knew there was something different about him.

[Sir Judicaël Launcelyn]

A lifetime of valor couldn't make up for all the bad things that Judicaël had done in his twenty-nine short years. He wasn't really a bad person, not truly. But he was naughty enough to have gotten himself into some tight situations, some of which he wasn't able to charm himself out. They were nothing, of course, compared to his gypsy... escapade, but these precarious predicaments piled up over time; any good man knew that much, and Judicaël was no exception- he lived to be ranked among gentlemen.

Change? Ha. Judicaël almost laughed. He'd lived in the countryside for three or four years, the ones he preferred not to relive. He knew what it was like, having to depend on what just you could provide. He knew survival, but that was not what she mean, clearly. He could tell it was something else? Self-reliance? He had that. Softness? ...He would never have that. But maybe that was it. Anyways, he was willing to know what Isolde meant by 'change'. "Sweetheart, I'd love to hear of it. Learn it, even." With a level, soft smile, he took a small step in her direction; he couldn't help himself. She made his blood pulsate through his body. Something about her was not like other women, he knew.

And then he remembered. Sincerity. He could see the pure, genuine light in her eyes and it reminded him coldheartedly of the woman that had broken him, had made him a man. She'd been real. Court was a place for falsehoods and false women, but out here was something more. That was what she meant. He smiled a little, chiding himself. Judicaël wished desperately he hadn't thought of her. He focused quickly and told himself he was a courtier now.

He heard her soft whisper and didn't know whether to call her out. But within seconds, he'd decided. "I like the way that sounds," he said softly, warmly. He took a few additional steps until he met her there, and he took her hand gently. He lifted it to his lips, keeping a keen eye on her to make sure she wasn't going to run away or anything stupid. He kissed her hand softly and said bluntly, "I cannot shake these sorts of habits." With a laugh in his eye, he almost beckoned for her to play on, and then wondered if he really just liked her for her radiating beauty- how utterly ridiculous of him to think. Of course he did, he didn't even know Isolde well enough to like her for a lot else.

Giddy, he was. That was all. Right?

// Lyrics from BROTHERS IN ARMS by DIRE STRAITS
// Graphics copyright Flik @ Caution 2.0

[Isolde]

-- Isolde did her best to clear her mind of anything and everything that had to do with her difficult past. There wasn't one soul that knew it except those back "home." If anyone asked, she just claimed to have no real family. It always seemed to be enough for whoever was asking. Isolde never planned on telling anyone. It would just complicate things. But now was no time to be worrying about her past. She was standing in front of a handsome nobleman who was quite obviously up to playing her little game. It had certainly been too long since she had played it. Isolde was invigorated by it. She had been so bored and now she had something to entertain her! And she knew that Judicael knew of the game, of the chase. He was probably just as much an expert in it as she was. Especially coming from the court.

-- "You'll find yourself loosening up, not so tense. You'll find you never want to return to court, or look back on your old life. You'll want to run far, far away." Isolde knew the feelings well, and she was speaking her own story. Once she left her old city, she realized right then that it had been the very best decision for her. And until she stumbled upon Solraya she had never wanted to leave the wide open county. But she had no food, no money, and simply no where else to go. She did manage to escape out here quite often, but not quite as often as she liked. How anyone could be truly satisfied with staying within the limits of the city walls were beyond her. Then again, Isolde had always had a free and flighty spirit.

-- His voice was soft and smooth and drew her in even farther. Before she realized it he had closed the remaining space between them and was bringing her delicate hand to his lips. Isolde couldn't remember the last time someone had kissed her hand. The unanticipated action brought another slight flush to her cheeks, but she kept his gaze. Things were getting very interesting. "Well these sorts of habits are quite charming. I'm afraid Sir Launcelyn you might happen to be just another courtier trying to win over the heart of a poor peasant girl." She said, her last few words dripping with sarcasm. They both knew she was not in any way just a poor naive peasant girl. It was fun to pretend though, to play along with their little charade. It made things oh so much more interesting.

[Sir Judicaël Launcelyn]

It was not as easy as he would hope, but Judicaël listened to Isolde with a straight face, trying not to remember the escapades he'd once taken here, the frolicking with a woman he'd never see again, lest he make it to heaven (which, in his mind, was doubtful). He missed her, but he didn't want to admit it. He had told himself, for nine years now, that it was lust and not love that had gotten him married so long ago.

And it had been a long time, he realised. He should be over it by now. He was twenty-nine, and for God's sake, he should be married now, have children now... and instead, he was playing the court game, having women at his beck and call without ever loving them. Really, Judicaël should settle down soon.

He returned his attention to Isolde, and the beauty that stood before him. She was, honestly, one of the most gorgeous women he'd ever seen. There was a strange feeling in his chest; he didn't want to just have her. That wasn't enough. He wanted to know her, to know what she was thinking. He found himself mesmerized by his words. He understood completely, having lived here once himself. "Spoken like one who knows. I'd like that very much, I think." he smiled seductively, slipped a hand to her waist. He wasn't going to go any farther, yet. But he just had to touch her.

Judicaël had to laugh slightly at her comment. "You're no poor peasant girl, Isolde. You're much too beautiful." he meant it purely metaphorically. She wasn't poor, not really, but she was no noblewoman, as far as he could see. After all, a noblewoman's proper place was at court, and though he had loved the country in the years he had lived there, Judicaël knew well that he'd not trade those years for the luxury of his own estate and having everything he could ever need at his fingertips. "Isolde," he whispered, enjoying it. "Oh, Isolde, call me Jude. Please." He smiled and moved his other hand to her waist. He wanted to kiss her lips, but refrained. He wanted to know her first.

"Isolde, tell me about you. I want to know you."

// Lyrics from BROTHERS IN ARMS by DIRE STRAITS
// Graphics copyright Flik @ Caution 2.0

[Isolde]

-- Isolde couldn't take her clear eyes off of the man in front of her. In so many ways he reminded her of the boy she had fallen in love with. They boy that had taken her purity and her life away from her. Over time she had learned to trust again, but Isolde wondered if she was ever love again. It had been a mistake she would never forget. But she was sure Judicael was nothing like the boy from back home except for being incredibly charming and handsome. He didn't hold that same venom or lack of feelings that he had held. How had she been so blind? Then again, she had just been a naive girl. Now she had travel and experience under her belt. But never again would she give her heart to anyone. Would she ever get married or have children? How close she had gotten once before. All of that was gone now. Isolde had slowly accepted the fact the odds were favorable to her living alone, a single woman for the rest of her days.

-- She was caught off guard by Judicael's actions and gave a little gasp. "I feel most at home in the country is all. Sometimes the city just feels too crowded." Isolde spoke honestly, but her words trailed off at the end, fading into a whisper. Did she actually like the feeling of his hand on her waist? It had certainly been too long since she had been touched by a man. She loved being held and touched. There was just something about it that made her heart race and her head grow fuzzy. And she was positive he loved women. What man at court didn't? She didn't blame him though. He obviously hadn't given his heart to anyone either or else he wouldn't be in the countryside trying to escape court. He would be trying to win over and woo the beautiful woman who had caught his attention that day.

-- "Everyone else seems to think so." Isolde said playfully. She was a wonderful little actress. Everyone had taken the ruse in stride. She played down her noble breeding and delicate features but dressing in gowns slightly too big for her. True peasant women were not petite by any sense of the word, and countrywomen especially. It helped she could pull her own weight though. Isolde had never been as weak as she looked. Her mother insisted she and her sister did work around the house, even though they had servants. She claimed hard work was good for the soul. Isolde no longer cared weather the good Lord valued good work. She had no intentions of getting into heaven. Did she even deserve it after all the things she had done. Isolde didn't regret a single thing.

-- She just smiled coyly and nodded, still slightly surprised when he moved his other hand to her waist as well. Isolde couldn't help but close the remaining space between them, taking one last step. Her chest pressed seductively against his as she looked up at him, her eyes shining. Isolde knew the look on Jude's face as well. She had seen it many times before. Then the words that spilled forth from his lips wanted to make her turn and run. No he didn't, if he knew even half of her past he wouldn't want anything to do with her. Maybe in time - then again, maybe not. "I'd like to tell you that you do not, but I know you wouldn't listen to me. I claim no true family any longer. I wound up in Solraya and have made my way as a seamstress and have lived here ever since." That was it, it was what she gave everyone else.

-- Isolde knew he didn't truly want to know about her. They all said that. Isolde hoped he wouldn't press the issue. If he was any good at watching, which nobles usually were, he would see that it was just a lie, a clever cover up for something more. Her mind wondered if anyone else guessed that there was more to the pretty little seamstress than what she let on. Surely there were at least a couple people. No girl this pretty would just run away from home on a whim. Isolde prayed that Jude wouldn't ask more. She really didn't want to talk about it, or remember. She wished she could believe her own lie, wished it were true.

-- "And what of you, Jude?" She asked softly. "There must be more to you than just being a handsome noble." Her tone was bold but still sweet and thick like fresh honey. Did the man have a past? Everyone did, she assumed, but others were far worse. Far worse than her own even. Surely he had just been born into his rank and lived his life simple enough. He had never had anything horrible happen to him. He was protected by his wealth and title. Sometimes money brought on the worst of troubles though. Tragedy certainly didn't discriminate.

[Sir Judicaël Launcelyn]

Glancing over toward his steed, Judicaël sighed. A breeze was weaving its way through the trees to the meadow in which they now stood, and it felt good against his hot skin. All he hoped was that this wind didn't care to bring a rain shower along with it; Judicaël didn't much care for rain. But who was he to complain, when he had an estate and other nice things to shield him from it? Why, he knew what it was like to live like a savage, to forage in the woods and live right under whatever weather God threw his way. He was no stranger to it. But it had taught him to be (somewhat) glad of what he had now.

He laughed a little bit, still curious at the mysterious nature of this damsel. She seemed to know what she was talking about one minute, then not at all the next. If they were to keep up this game, he'd never know anything about her except that she was either confused or very vague. With a gentle grin, he replied, "I suppose court can be a catch, if one likes the high life, though I've caught that it has catches all its own and those are not quite as much fun to maneuver." His wordplay was customary of his time at court, and he didn't mean much by it but to impress with his knowledge of language. The only problem was, English was all he knew. He was no great scholar, no intellectual who enjoyed writing poems and prose. But, of course, God knew he loved reading. That was something special.

Judicaël smiled with pleasure when she positioned herself even nearer him, and it took some of his best practiced patience not to look down past her face. She was a little seductress, was she? He chuckled and didn't well hear her few words. And then she said something of her origin, of her parentage--nonexistant, it seemed-- and of her job around the countryside. Seamstress, she was. Respectable, et alia. She was clearly not among the lowliest of the people, and was likely much more superior than even she'd admit. He still didn't know how to take her words. Falsehoods or truth? Lies or light?

But, seeing as he was confused a bit, he didn't feel the need to blunder by asking farther into this. Delving into something one didn't know, though a custom of the court, was not something Judicaël had ever cared to master.

"Handsome, say you?" he smiled. He didn't know how to answer the actual question, though. He wouldn't reveal his past marriage, his false coming to power, et cetera. No one needed to know that; it was the past. So he smiled and made something somewhat like the truth. "My father was a knight, in another kingdom. But my parents both met their too-soon ends, so I ventured here. When I was introduced to the court of Solraya, I was clearly destined to follow in his footsteps. So I'm knighted now, with thirty-five acres near to the castle." And no one to share it with, he thought bitterly, and especially not my gypsy wife.

Sorrow crossed his face but he blinked it away before, he thought, she saw it. He wouldn't think of those things. He'd vowed that much, and he shouldn't break a vow. Quickly, to forget, he brushed his lips across Isolde's own, just lightly enough to remember why he'd stayed here.

// Lyrics from BROTHERS IN ARMS by DIRE STRAITS
// Graphics copyright Flik @ Caution 2.0