Post by Janice Olivia Monroe on Sept 22, 2010 21:51:38 GMT -6
Continued from:The Dinner
The Aftermath of Dinner
we've dined on apprehension, doubt, hope, and love. above all this, accept my love to fill you
Master Jean-Claude deAquitaine
The day had come and gone, and it would be long in the evening before Jean-Claude had found the time to clear his life for the hour in which he planned to beg for Janice's forgiveness. Never had he thought his precious angel would take so harsh to the offer. His Janice would have brushed it off with a smile, or find reason to laugh when faced with something she did not wish. How could he be so stupid to not realize that she was no longer a child there within his arms. He loved her. With his entire being, and the proof was there upon her doorstep. With a heavy heart he knocked upon the door with his free hand while the other held roses wrapped in paper, and a fine new scarf from the middle east to keep her warm--or cover her neck again, whatever. On this night he was dressed as his normal, far too official for evening attire, but casual enough the ascot wasn't tied so tight. The autumn winds had been the reason of the tie of his hair, but now the ribbon threatened to fall out in the careless hold. Jean-Claude simply felt horrible. (d
Lady Janice Viscreed
The day had come and gone with an equal sense of wear after having gone long now for a pair days at tasks that tested her want of how contained her world was. Be careful what you wish for, petite one, you might wish it. Be careful your desire, it just may manifest. Stiff back was displayed with manners that would have made Inveryne proud and Jean-Claude marvel at the woman she had become from the small, too-thin child-woman from the convents of France. Now the woman answered the door, surprised to find him there with a look on his face as if the sun hadn't risen that morning, nor the moon shine her beauty for him. She had been at court today, the angel, for her fur lined gown had not yet been changed nor the updone hair with small strands left to cascade. "Master deAquitaine - what a surprise, please come in, it is freezing outside. Come in by the fire. What's wrong, you look so tired?" To see him unraveled was to forget it was she who had come undone like a ball of twine but a night or so before. Heat met him. It made sense, for wasn't this the house of the sun with her in it? The new blue fabric with gilt designs had come to the lower walls at last, leaving the upper wood warm and polished. (d)
Master Jean-Claude deAquitaine
"Nothing, Mon Ange, I simply did not sleep last night is all, I felt like the biggest ass." No fancy French word could find the replacement then for the English, of harsher sounds he made it seem ones that were like knives that cut through him. "I have come to apologize. I do not know the reasons you left yesterday so quickly, but I know the reason I did not when I should have. For this..I am so sorry sorry. Can you forgive me?" He would extend the roses to her and the tightly wrapped package of the deep purple scarf. The color reserved for royalty the pure rich color had cost him a fortune, but she was worth every piece. "I should not put hand where it is not welcome, or take yours when you are not so willing to give it." Looking around the room he slowly went over each corner admiring the work she had put into it. (d
Lady Janice Viscreed
It dawned on her that he had never been inside the place on the Row she so adored and called home. Eyes would pass over the now spotless table with its bench seating, freshly apolstered for comforted. In the middle of that table was a bowl of apples and pears. Shelves along a back wall held the dishes she had spent her hours so far arranging to suit her taste. It was extravagant for the modest woman but she had acquired a taste for glasswear, so the sheer plates in pale or amber shade caught the soft light of candles. Her kitchen was just beyond, the sitting room to the back. "Jean-Claude!" Formality lapsed as she accepted the gifts, his heart out in her hands. "Goodness, it is not you. I should not have been so sensitive, to make you worry so come. Hang up your coat, let me take it for you. Come to the sitting room with me. I could forgive you anything!" She loved him, more than she had words to say. It would have made Julian terribly jealous, enraged, were it not a love that knew platonic expression. He was a star in her cosmos, a moon about her self planet where Julian became the planet. Where Jean-Claude was a favorite constellation Julian became everything that made the stars themselves. Without hesitation a dutiful child helped her father from his coat, bringing him with her to the sitting room. A fire greeted them all orange-red jolly. A mantle held little iron lanterns with cut out stars that threw themselves out with the help of interior candles. She had an oil painting of a spanish map commisioned when she'd returned home, now hanging with great pride above the area. He sat on soft pillows she'd sewn herself. He was alone only so long as to fetch a vase with water to arrange the roses in, when she returned she gently lowered herself on the seat next to his, for it was a lover's bench they sat on. Ironic . "You are more than forgiven, for I hope you can forgive me. I am far too sensitive on the matter and it isn't even that mention of marriage or even the Austrian brings me discomfort, it is that I seek to move on and trouble no one with the act of arranging such things. I know I have..done everything since coming of age to deny your help...for that I am sorry too. I love you so much, that never changes." (d)
Master Jean-Claude deAquitaine
Her answer suited him and there was a small exhale as he did follow to where he would be seated and on his way he would stop to admire her courtly skills of homemaking. "Janice..this is simply amazing. It is not matter you never come out." He kept his hands behind his back as he walked parting them only to brush over the back of the lover's bench before taking his seat. Old bones that could not pretend to be young again did cry out as they always did when it was cold or rained. It was a heartache he shared with the Lady Inveryne, but one they often laughed over in private as the day came to end. His heart ached to listen to her obvious reasons of why she refused him, for it was so rare any did perhaps this was what he was more shocked about then she refusing him, "My darling..it is not a trouble, not at all." Somewhere in him he knew the truth. How would it surface? "What do you do all day and night here? The ladies of court said they have not seen much of you since your return." Though..who missed him? (d
Lady Janice Viscreed
"Jean-Claude the ladies of court are no true barometer to which the weathers of my life go. I have been there for years and they have paid me no heed when I was seventeen and have only now begun to have a shred inkling." Overdressed vipers with sting hidden under perfume pomanders and hair ribbons, the lot of them. Her skin crawled with their eyes on her today though, the attention as much as a part of her relished the thought of inclusion. She had lived a life patterened in false intention so always stood afraid things were paper-thin constructions waiting to be torn. Jean-Claude? He was forever. "I returned to court just today, and before that I made my return to the Templar's library,and before that I felt it was important to lend Master Laurence all the help and companionship she could require. Then there was my store to see to, work to complete, things to arrange and then my house to do the same to. It isn't finished yet. I still have to plan my winter garden and next years's spring one. When I don't do that, I read. It is silly. Most young girls wish to have friends." She tucked a coil of hair behind her ear before a hand touched his "Even being the ward of the Madame, taught by Inveryne, I was never comfortable in this skin Jean-Claude. At court I was either loathed for being intelligent or despised for being too low-cultured. Now they would notice me. Since returning it seemed my short marriage to the Austrian gave me a touch of odd-place famed. So odd-placed the man's Aunt has come, a guest of the Austrian ambassador himself, and he sent a letter a month ahead of my return pleading with me to return to him. I met with her, she is a...staunch, old woman." She was the most visually insulting being Janice had ever seen. "But I told her in certain terms her nephew and I are no longer wed, I wish him and her health, he is fortunate to have such family as she to intercess and love him, but I am not going back to Austria. Our marriage is done, under law and more so under God, for the king has leave to decide on such things with the Pope's grace, my certificate of divorce even has a papal seal to it as it seems they are issued unto bishops to decide if we are Christians who do so. She will be here, four more days..four." She rubbed at her temples "Suddenly there is talk I was on the continent on some tour of pilgrimage or as a guest of courts, at any rate suddenly I am wished at tables, for hunts or suppers or parties. I have only just now learned the value of myself, Jean-Claude. I felt..alive in Spain. More than I could ever tell you. I felt, purposeful, capable. No more a hinderance to you or the Master Laurence but an asset..belonged. I have chosen this life mind, body, and soul...the one true decision I could make for myself after so many..I had no choice. I could not...find out of my parents until their deaths nor save them. I should have married on arrival, but he died and someone saw promise yet I was too young to do nothing but obey. Then I questioned, and I know I hurt so many..so terribly. I just...desire..something. That will not fall to ruin, or cause loss of life, or.dissolve like dew in the morning. I felt like for years I would too. I almost died when I was fourteen..of a fever. I accepted God might take me so young but he didn't." She touched the soft scarf he gave her, hugged it. "My heart is a strange place. I hold the secrets of so many, I do so gladly. Do you know what became of that great book all sought." She confessed a great secret, tapping her head. The wealth of all her father' swork, his predacessors, of laurence, in there? all the Orders secrets. She had become the book. "I do so willingly. Jean-Claude. There is another thing. I could not give my heart to one of your selections ..because it is not mine to give. I love another. It is not the Austrian, so worry not on that." (d)
Master Jean-Claude deAquitaine
He heard them laughing, those voices cold on the wind; the ones that spoke of the truth in crazed moments of the full moon. They were his inspiration as they were to be the death of a famed mind. Jean-Claude had a deep love of beauty, as he collected the hand of many in warm kisses, and careless smiles. In listening to her how could he not swell with pride, or feel as though there was so much of him in her even if they shared little blood. Seated there across from her he put his arm over the back of the sofa while one ankle came to rest against his knee. This was the man relaxed, yet the fire cast eerie shadows over his face and the angles more clear because of his hair pulled back. Only small strands fell around his lips having fallen free from the loose tie. "Janice..I am so very proud of you." He knew. Everything about him in the moment spoke of how he knew. The fire in the hearth seemed to pull away the air, or was it because his chest seemed to no longer move. If she put her hand there against his chest would she feel his heart beating? No. She would feel it breaking. Even on the day he found of her marriage had he not felt such pain. Everything about this man seemed to turn to stone, but something in the way his eyes turned cold told stories of how he would shatter should she touch him. "Janice..I am so very proud of you." He knew. Everything about him in the moment spoke of how he knew. The fire in the hearth seemed to pull away the air, or was it because his chest seemed to no longer move. If she put her hand there against his chest would she feel his heart beating? No. She would feel it breaking. Even on the day he found of her marriage had he not felt such pain. Everything about this man seemed to turn to stone, but something in the way his eyes turned cold told stories of how he would shatter should she touch him. He was not a fool. He had ignored it for far too long. "I should have told that Austrian long ago the truth, and if he sends another letter I think I just might. Gentleman or not, I am still a man. I feel myself a father to you...and it is because of this I will say this only once." Leaning forward there was something terribly horrifying about him. The wicked look in his eyes could pull it all from her within a single heartbeat as if by one touch alone he could end her life. However, the threat was not of violence, or of a primitive nature..No, it was simply, "Stay away from Julian." Was it a threat? Or was he begging? Before she could protest he would put a hand up to still her, "I have kept this for far too long, carried the burden of it, but not now." How could he not want to protect her, "Please tell me it is not him." He held his breath until the she spoke the truth. (d
Lady Janice Viscreed
Janice opened up the well of herself to him, words a laddle that he might dip down far while only the tiniest portion remained unopen while the door cracked with the admittance of so much truth it stole his breath. Why did his heartdesign to split in two tonight. Was it because of her willingness to house all the secrets of their world in her head all the days she lived to replace the need for a work all could steal, or that she opened a chapter of her personal history to a forbidden entity? He was proud of her but the look in his eyes frightened her. Wide eyed doe was slain before the hunters bow in the woods. His fingers to her mouth pressed, her voice as low as a death phrase "It is him, he knows it. He is my best friend, Jean-Claude, why would you deem me stay away from him?" She took his hand to hold fast in her own as if clinging to the mountain, begging for her mortal hands to move ancient stone. He needs you to love him she wanted to say but to help him, to trust him in order to heal his fractured mind. Can you not let me love him and us together help him. If you love me as a father let me be your daughter.. Her mind screamed it but in the simplest of ways this was all she could do to tell him the truth. With the marriage papers in Julian's keeping it was his secret. One he hung over her head as all trust was earned. He could suck the life from her, it frightened her to no end as much as Jean-Claude's bottomless eyes, but she'd let him. "You might arrange whatever you wish for him and if it is truly his desire I would let him go to it," Was he listening, how love could go with open hand, how determined to earn his trust that she prayed he would never leave? "But I can not help loving him, nor can I stop, Jean-Claude. He has a light in him, beyond all of his darkness. The darkness is so deep.. I fear for him, I have feared of him. He fears for himself. But...the light, oh by heavens..that light. I have seen it in Spain, and he did not wish to come home. He wishes nothing but peace, to be loved. If Mistress Margot will love him better than I so be it, but do I not stand one chance? Can I not love him as a soul-mate, and you as my father?" (d)
Master Jean-Claude deAquitaine
She struck him down with her words no matter how much they begged to be welcomed. Janice deep down could not hurt something that was not deserving, but Jean-Claude felt he asked for this. It was comical sometimes how much he wished to be left out of this young love stuff, but there it was. "It is not you." He almost gasped quickly coming to sit up from his slump that had pulled him back down. "No no..it is not you, my goodness, I would want nothing more." He took her hands kissed the backs of them before keeping them there to now beg. "Anyone but you." He pleaded, "Janice he is haunted. His heart is tormented, and for what reason? Poverty? I have offered him everything. I have given him everything he would ever need, but still it is not enough. He will destroy you." Lord, help them all. "I love you too much to let you be hurt by him. Janice..No." He sounded so pitiful, so damn weak, and would do everything in him to fight back the flood of emotion. "I am sorry. I." He held up his hands, as he would rise. It was his turn to leave. "I can't do this right now." He sat back down, finding the will, "We just got you back. He is sick. Trust me, Mon cher..I know true sickness. You do not know hot badly he is tormented..demented." His hand covered his mouth, he had to tell Claramae. "Excuse me." With that he would go to his coat. (d
Lady Janice Viscreed
"If you wish it than let it be so, please I beg you," He did it in action she used her words, "let it take its course. We are not so different, he and I. Jean-Claude please, please!" She went to him and held him from behind before he could slip away. With these words she signed her warrant unto his death if he caused her it. Poor thing. Poor little thing. The shadows on the floor laughed maniacle. yes..there she is.. they chorused, trap her..keep her....such light let us suck it away. "I know I can not keep you here, but please let me tell you. I know he is ill, I know he is sick, and torchured ,and tormented but he wishes nothing more than to please you. Master Laurence will help you save him, she sees herself in him, as you see yourself in him, as you see yourselves in us. It is not that you haven't given him all one could ever desire or your soul to meld to his, it is that the world is as if mocking him for all he feels he could never attain on his own, it is not the poverty..it is what poverty illicits, and then to be kept from things, to feel different from others as we are not others. We may meld with them only but to feel alive, to feel human. To feel! " She let him go, feeling fourteen all over again "I had nightmares as a girl, intense religious dreams that the nuns hoped would mean extasy of Christ but they were only horrors of a mind fragmented. When I was dying I saw the christ showing me the inside of his body. Jacob wouldn't come to me, despite the nuns saying I could die for he couldn't forgive himself. It is not your fault, Jean-Claude. It isn't his. It is merely God creates beings who ...for all that is around them...never know their purpose until it finds them. I love him, as I love you.All of you. I can not leave him to that darkness, not when to omit so much light from my soul I must pray and cry to have relieved me of my own." He could kill her and no more confirmation was needed than how sick Jean-Claude looked, how pitiful. She had never seen him so undone. She stood by the door to open it for him, the dutiful daughter unable to let him go without respect. "Good night, Papa." She whispered (d)
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