Post by The Grand Duelist on Apr 21, 2014 18:51:09 GMT -5
Note: This canon may be edited. I wanted to have this story reflect a topic that I feel Fiora will have to face at one point or another. Suggestions and remarks are welcome; feel free to message me either on Skype or by a PM.
Spring, 24 CLE
The day had just started, but Fiora was already beginning to feel weary of the endless tittering and the overly exuberant energy that gripped the Laurent Manor. Spring was here at last and the gardeners were out examining every budding plant, making sure that when summer came the garden would look impeccable. Fiora rubbed her temples absentmindedly as she sat at a round table set up in the middle of grounds as Lady Laurent scurried back to the kitchens, no doubt making sure personally that the pastries would be perfect.
‘Oh, spring.’ Christelle Laurent chirped, making her way back from the kitchen, satisfied that the cakes were neither too flaky nor too crumbly. ‘Isn’t eet a marvelous time, ma chère? A time of change and birth!’
Fiora forced a small smile. ‘Of course, maman.’ she murmured. Her stomach clenched briefly as she looked around at the proceedings. ‘Is zis all necessary?’ she asked again, playing with the lacy tablecloth.
Lady Laurent blinked, looking almost shocked. ‘But, of course!’ she reprimanded, waving her fan at her only daughter impatiently. ‘Sebastien coming back to visit after almost a year?’ Christelle clutched at her pearls. ‘And the weather is so nice out today. Do be reasonable, Fiora; don’t you want to see your brother?’
Fiora glanced cautiously at the main gates, still visible from her place in the gardens. The ivory bars remained closed, but her heart skipped a beat every time she thought she heard hoof beats. ‘Of course,’ she replied, closing her eyes in an attempt to remove herself from her current situation. ‘it is just who he brings along that I can do without.’ she added quietly.
Suddenly, Lady Laurent uttered a small scream of delight and Fiora wrenched her eyes to the gates again. The gates opened silently and a pair of horses cantered in, bringing with them a magnificent carriage. The horses came to a stop near the manor’s entrance and the Grand Duelist could see their butler hurry down the front steps to welcome the visitors. The doors opened on the opposite side, and Fiora could see someone step down onto the gravel. Definitely a male. Then the feet turned sideways and shuffled slightly as the owner helped another passenger down. Fiora’s heart stopped as she saw the second passenger’s feet daintily touched the ground. Without a doubt, it was a woman’s.
The butler, still visible to Fiora, gestured towards the gardens. ‘It is over there,’ she could hear him say politely. Even from afar, she could hear her brother’s voice echo across the grounds commandingly. ‘Very well. Bring us there, then.’
Lady Laurent was almost beside herself in joy. Fiora turned away from the scene and back at her mother, forcing a smile. ‘Wonderful,’ she wanted to say, but the words caught in her throat. Wonderful. She watched as Christelle got up from the table and rushed towards the approaching group, tears already sparkling in her eyes.
Fiora looked up from the table and saw her younger brother, Adrien Laurent, staring back at her. He had slipped into his seat amidst all the confusion, unnoticed by her. His look spoke volumes. Fiora turned away, feeling cornered, and found herself eye-to-eye with Sebastien Laurent.
It was as if time had slowed to a crawl and Fiora felt suddenly lightheaded. With an elegant movement, she got up from her table, kissing her older brother on both cheeks. ‘Sebastien,’ she muttered, before stepping away. Adrien got up as well and did the same, but added a light punch to the greeting. ‘Brother,’ he smirked, stepping back.
Sebastien laughed. ‘Brother,’ he echoed over Lady Laurent’s head as he allowed his mother to engulf him with a tight embrace. ‘And sister.’ he added, eyes twinkling as he winked at her roguishly. Fiora resisted the urge to run and instead looked at the female who, in her mind, was absolutely uninvited on Laurent grounds.
‘Isabelle,’ Lady Laurent cried, kissing the young woman on the cheeks. ‘It has been too long since I’ve seen you—both of you.’ She said throatily, looking at the two with teary eyes. Fiora glanced at Adrien, but her younger brother leaned in as well, kissing Isabelle on both cheeks, before seating himself, content to pour himself a cup of tea. As the group followed his lead and sat down, Fiora found herself opposite of Isabelle. Round face framed with jet black locks, petite features—of course Isabelle would capture Sebastien’s heart. She was like a doll, dressed up in her frilly outfit, both physically and—as Fiora would like to think, mentally. Fiora brushed a lock of hair out of the way and looked down at her plate as servants began serving the pastries.
Lady Laurent had no problems starting the conversation. Relentlessly, she bombarded the two visitors with question after question, asking how they were, what the weather was like at their manor—on, and on and on. Fiora and Adrien kept quiet, allowing their mother to take over the pleasantries.
But then the conversation lulled, and Sebastien took the opportunity. ‘Mother,’ he smiled, putting down his teacup and dropping his hand to Isabelle’s. He looked so much like his father that it unnerved Fiora. Lady Laurent paused, daintily wiping her mouth with a napkin. ‘Oui?’ she replied, barely hiding how thrilled she was. Of course she expected this, Fiora thought, Sebastien never visited on his own accord until today.
Fiora’s heart was thumping so loudly that she was surprised nobody stopped and asked if she was alright. Every fiber in her body screamed at her to arm herself, because deep inside she knew what was coming. Sebastien was a duelist as well, but he did not strike directly as Fiora had hoped. Instead, the eldest Laurent leaned back, smiling serenely.
‘You know we’ve been living together for a little over a year now, maman.’ he began, throwing a winning smile at Isabelle, who glanced back with dewy eyes. ‘And it has been obvious,’ he continued, reaching a finger up and stroking Isabelle’s face. ‘that Isabelle has captured my every thought since I’ve met her. Father always said that if you were in love, you would know it. And I do.’ He turned back, directing his words at Lady Laurent, but his eyes on Fiora.
‘And I have decided to propose to Isabelle. We are to be married.’
Spring, 24 CLE
The day had just started, but Fiora was already beginning to feel weary of the endless tittering and the overly exuberant energy that gripped the Laurent Manor. Spring was here at last and the gardeners were out examining every budding plant, making sure that when summer came the garden would look impeccable. Fiora rubbed her temples absentmindedly as she sat at a round table set up in the middle of grounds as Lady Laurent scurried back to the kitchens, no doubt making sure personally that the pastries would be perfect.
‘Oh, spring.’ Christelle Laurent chirped, making her way back from the kitchen, satisfied that the cakes were neither too flaky nor too crumbly. ‘Isn’t eet a marvelous time, ma chère? A time of change and birth!’
Fiora forced a small smile. ‘Of course, maman.’ she murmured. Her stomach clenched briefly as she looked around at the proceedings. ‘Is zis all necessary?’ she asked again, playing with the lacy tablecloth.
Lady Laurent blinked, looking almost shocked. ‘But, of course!’ she reprimanded, waving her fan at her only daughter impatiently. ‘Sebastien coming back to visit after almost a year?’ Christelle clutched at her pearls. ‘And the weather is so nice out today. Do be reasonable, Fiora; don’t you want to see your brother?’
Fiora glanced cautiously at the main gates, still visible from her place in the gardens. The ivory bars remained closed, but her heart skipped a beat every time she thought she heard hoof beats. ‘Of course,’ she replied, closing her eyes in an attempt to remove herself from her current situation. ‘it is just who he brings along that I can do without.’ she added quietly.
Suddenly, Lady Laurent uttered a small scream of delight and Fiora wrenched her eyes to the gates again. The gates opened silently and a pair of horses cantered in, bringing with them a magnificent carriage. The horses came to a stop near the manor’s entrance and the Grand Duelist could see their butler hurry down the front steps to welcome the visitors. The doors opened on the opposite side, and Fiora could see someone step down onto the gravel. Definitely a male. Then the feet turned sideways and shuffled slightly as the owner helped another passenger down. Fiora’s heart stopped as she saw the second passenger’s feet daintily touched the ground. Without a doubt, it was a woman’s.
The butler, still visible to Fiora, gestured towards the gardens. ‘It is over there,’ she could hear him say politely. Even from afar, she could hear her brother’s voice echo across the grounds commandingly. ‘Very well. Bring us there, then.’
Lady Laurent was almost beside herself in joy. Fiora turned away from the scene and back at her mother, forcing a smile. ‘Wonderful,’ she wanted to say, but the words caught in her throat. Wonderful. She watched as Christelle got up from the table and rushed towards the approaching group, tears already sparkling in her eyes.
Fiora looked up from the table and saw her younger brother, Adrien Laurent, staring back at her. He had slipped into his seat amidst all the confusion, unnoticed by her. His look spoke volumes. Fiora turned away, feeling cornered, and found herself eye-to-eye with Sebastien Laurent.
It was as if time had slowed to a crawl and Fiora felt suddenly lightheaded. With an elegant movement, she got up from her table, kissing her older brother on both cheeks. ‘Sebastien,’ she muttered, before stepping away. Adrien got up as well and did the same, but added a light punch to the greeting. ‘Brother,’ he smirked, stepping back.
Sebastien laughed. ‘Brother,’ he echoed over Lady Laurent’s head as he allowed his mother to engulf him with a tight embrace. ‘And sister.’ he added, eyes twinkling as he winked at her roguishly. Fiora resisted the urge to run and instead looked at the female who, in her mind, was absolutely uninvited on Laurent grounds.
‘Isabelle,’ Lady Laurent cried, kissing the young woman on the cheeks. ‘It has been too long since I’ve seen you—both of you.’ She said throatily, looking at the two with teary eyes. Fiora glanced at Adrien, but her younger brother leaned in as well, kissing Isabelle on both cheeks, before seating himself, content to pour himself a cup of tea. As the group followed his lead and sat down, Fiora found herself opposite of Isabelle. Round face framed with jet black locks, petite features—of course Isabelle would capture Sebastien’s heart. She was like a doll, dressed up in her frilly outfit, both physically and—as Fiora would like to think, mentally. Fiora brushed a lock of hair out of the way and looked down at her plate as servants began serving the pastries.
Lady Laurent had no problems starting the conversation. Relentlessly, she bombarded the two visitors with question after question, asking how they were, what the weather was like at their manor—on, and on and on. Fiora and Adrien kept quiet, allowing their mother to take over the pleasantries.
But then the conversation lulled, and Sebastien took the opportunity. ‘Mother,’ he smiled, putting down his teacup and dropping his hand to Isabelle’s. He looked so much like his father that it unnerved Fiora. Lady Laurent paused, daintily wiping her mouth with a napkin. ‘Oui?’ she replied, barely hiding how thrilled she was. Of course she expected this, Fiora thought, Sebastien never visited on his own accord until today.
Fiora’s heart was thumping so loudly that she was surprised nobody stopped and asked if she was alright. Every fiber in her body screamed at her to arm herself, because deep inside she knew what was coming. Sebastien was a duelist as well, but he did not strike directly as Fiora had hoped. Instead, the eldest Laurent leaned back, smiling serenely.
‘You know we’ve been living together for a little over a year now, maman.’ he began, throwing a winning smile at Isabelle, who glanced back with dewy eyes. ‘And it has been obvious,’ he continued, reaching a finger up and stroking Isabelle’s face. ‘that Isabelle has captured my every thought since I’ve met her. Father always said that if you were in love, you would know it. And I do.’ He turned back, directing his words at Lady Laurent, but his eyes on Fiora.
‘And I have decided to propose to Isabelle. We are to be married.’