The Kitten, the Witches and the Bad Wardrobe - Willow & Tara Forever

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 Post subject: Too much...
PostPosted: Tue Mar 01, 2005 8:51 am 
I read what you were thinking and I guess it inspired me too much to wait until my next "answer the questions and comments" portion of our visits.

Hidden watson: I really do want to stress the importance of life for Tara, how much she loves it and appreciates it. I guess, now that I think about it, it's my own way of tributing to Tara as a lover of life, so she shouldn't have been brutally.... grr. In the fic, this will come to use, although I can't say how as of yet.



As for the conceptual possibility of Tara and Willow to fall for eachother as women, well, I don't think that will be too much of an issue. When the invaders of america started to study (not murder, they did that before and after) they discovered a shocking amount of men living as women and women with wives (that's right, plural) in the native american culture. It wasn't looked down on, or used against anyone, it was just how they felt as an individual. That gave me further courage to believe that when it comes to love and attraction, social barriers are obsolete. Going back to what was mentioned earlier about Tara with Marie, that just makes it more sequential that Tara would think little of "what is expected" of her.

Again thanks, and enjoy your thoughts...



Artemis: Wow. Thank you for inviting me. Yes times three hundred and six. Also, yeah, I love the idea of this catholic priest with his outrageously ambiguous hat and dress, droning something in Latin, in a completely bored and nasal tone. Willow and Tara, of course, terrified. Anyway, thanks.



stillrunning: Hopefully, the updates will steadily pour in. I'm having issues with my roommates (who don't want to keep the internet that much, but if they don't I can't afford it by myself 'cause I'm saving up to move) but I still have the library, and I shouldn't have too much trouble. You all are really very kind for your support and feedback, thank you.



mary



~"If not for love, then why?"

Edited by: WitchFu at: 3/1/05 7:53 am


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 Post subject: Re: Re:keetee bowt da door, chapter four!
PostPosted: Tue Mar 01, 2005 9:19 am 
Yet again a great update. I love that Willow was spying on the arriving guests and *surprise surprise* noticed the lovely Lady Tara, who it's nice to see that she's treating her serving girl well. Can't wait to see how that first meeting between the two go.

"Heaven's not a place that you go when you die...it's that moment in life when you actually feel alive"



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 Post subject: Re: Too much...
PostPosted: Tue Mar 01, 2005 6:57 pm 
This story most certainly triggers a great deal of anticipation. Because after all, I'm not just hooked, I'm fascinated.

I got bitten by a drunk lesbian! Does that mean I'll turn into one?



~my friend Mary



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 Post subject: interesting...
PostPosted: Tue Mar 01, 2005 9:55 pm 
getting more and more interesting. I would really like to know what happens next. Please do continue as soon as possible!



photographer02



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 Post subject: ba da dee do da dive, chapter five!
PostPosted: Thu Mar 03, 2005 6:42 pm 
Sighing heavily, Willow leaned back against her chamber door. The night had been long and tiresome, quite like she had been holding her breath the entire evening.



As she pulled the top-most button of her overcoat loose, she thought it all through. The last three nights had been the same, replete of all actual intelligence. She hadn't been given the opportunity to read, all her spare time taken up with practice, exceedingly more etiquette, and meeting dukes, earls, and heirs; all shameless flatterers.



Draping her coat over the back of her room chair, her eyes distant with thought, she picked up the small dagger on her powder table to remove her stalkings. She presumed that one, maybe two of the many guests invited would share in her interests, but all that they seemed to worry about was their wig, their dress, the latest in Paris and wine. Boring would have been tolerable. This, this was grating. Like so much sand in the throat. She had imagined social life to be exciting and challenging, but so far the only challenge that she had confronted was the one inside of herself, forcing her not to scream at their witlessness.



How they could be so vapid was increasingly trying on her thoughts. She knew that she, herself, was playing a role but at least she was managing to invest an interest in other things.



She assumed that speaking to men about the bow and arrow would not be out of context, but she was shocked to find that they blanched at the mention of them. They, too, were weak at the idea of all violence, save that of their discipline to the people of their lands. In that respect, they could go on for hours of the unspeakable wrongs they preformed on those under their influence.



Willow had a suspicion that something wasn't right. She had been told that peasants were useless save what their labor could bring in. That they were stupid, save those that were taught enough to rise to the ranks of tutors or housedom. That they were uncouth, though their habits seemed comely as compared to the ogres at her table. They had no resource, but were essential in battle. It simply did not add up. After all, what were the houses Royal but peasants who had risen to this state through lands and riches?



It was something that Willow had only begun to suspect, and therefore needed much time and deliberation. That was something that she was certainly not given in these, her time of social aptitude.



Having discarded all of her dinner clothing, she slipped into the gown she had been provided. Even that was in style, her father wore one of the same, with carefully stitched lace made from the most expensive silk cloth. Her bed had been warmed for her with fire-heated blankets beneath her sheets, promptly removed before her arrival. Her latest book, ever at attention on her bedside table, lay quietly beneath the soft glow of a near-by candle.



Seating herself comfortably, Willow snuggled beneath her many-layers of blankets and sheets, sighing at the warmth she found there. As she reached over to take her book up from the table and pull the candle closer, something caught her eye just beyond. A flicker of light, that Willow was surprised she could see, had bobbed just outside of her window.



Sitting up without moving her eyes from where she had last seen the flicker, she rose and made her way to the stone-carved window sill. She could see nothing distinct beyond the imperfect glass, but teasing the pane open slowly, she peered out in the semi-darkness that a full moon provides.



She saw almost immediately after a quick scan what the happenings had been. A lady, escorted by a broad-shouldered workman, thick with muscle, was being guided to a dwelling in the barn set for all stable-hands. Evidently, some of the ladies did have different interests. She didn't recognize this one now, but she wouldn't forget her when the ball came. It would be difficult to keep the red from her cheeks if she did recognize her. She couldn't keep it back now, alone, surrounded by strangers and those who's job it was to scrutinize her every movement could only compound the blood-rush.



Folding her arms cross-ways on the sill and laying her chin gently down to rest on them, Willow looked over the unusually clear and bright night. The village lay peacefully quiet and serene under the gaze of its prince and moon.



How was the ball to be? This was the most important test that she had been faced with, talking, drinking, and dancing. She did enjoy dancing, but with a woman? Admittedly, her teacher had been Wesley, and that was the closest to a woman as you could get without being scandalous, but these would be real women, with real flirting eyes, and real... Well, other real things. The heat was making itself quite comfortable on her face. Would she be graceful enough? Too graceful? There was no table to select your company, to exclude you from the possibility of being approached.



Fortunately, she did not have the obligation to choose whom she danced with. A card had been filled for her already, and on the night of the ball she would be given it.



But a thought struck her, hard. Why did she turn red at the thought of being near a woman? "Near another woman." She remarked, correcting her self portrayal as that of a man. Sometimes, she believed the lie herself. She was not permitted any of the labors, idioms, dress, manner, speech or customs of a woman, so who is to say she was one? Physically, yes, she was every bit a woman as they come, but what was that when she was never going to have a chance to acknowledge that in intercourse. Another rush of blood to her cheeks. She knew that if she desired it strongly, she could arrange a clandestine meeting with a quieted young man, not unlike the one she had seen secreting the lady to his bed only moments ago. Extra-marital affairs were more than accepted, they were expected.



Willow sat up, and made her way toward her bed once more. She would need as much rest as she could manage this night. Read to relax and then sleep. As she crawled into the warmth of her covers, lifted the book to her front and settled in, she still could not shake the question.



Why feel embarrassed? The young man that she was told she was to be, would not blush at the presence of a lady, would scoff at the feat of dancing with one, and would, by this age, have had plenty of experience with how to handle one in bed. In fact, one blush would send her tutors into an uproar. It was highly unbecoming for a young man to display ignorance in the way of flesh. Indeed, the very point of his existence would eventually depend on his ability to know enough of it to produce an heir. But that aspect was not required of her, and as such, she had never been tutored in the way of it.



Giles had been instructed to do that, the king having no conception that he was well aware of Willow's secret. If she was taught exactly like a young prince, no one would have any questions as to 'his' authenticity. They had discussed it, Willow and Giles, and decided against the unnecessary embarrassment. Both blushing and mumbling uncomfortably, the general idea was conveyed to her how things were done, in case she were put into a situation where she should be asked about that. She didn't initially understand how that would come up, but Giles explained that men spoke differently in private than was generally deemed acceptable in the presence of ladies.



Which led to the question, if she had been exposed to one or multiple sexual situations with women would she feel burning at her cheeks at this moment? Would she have liked it? This brought forth more of the questions that she had oft found herself pondering. She was neither gentleman nor lady, so where did that leave her on love?



Xander had once asked if it was difficult for Willow not to fall in love with any of her tutors or friends. Understandably, it was a hard question for him to ask, as he had just proposed their physical union. And had been denied.



Xander's father had never been very proud of him, never shown him any type of affection, or comfort, and that tore him up sometimes. He really did love his father, looked up to him for more reasons than his great height, respected his power and ability, but the man did not feel the need to make his son feel welcome.



The relationship that she and Xander shared had become essential to their sanity. On the day of this particular query, they had known each other for many months, and only recently did she tell him her secret. He had been shocked but, more over, embarrassed. His confession of love for William, had fallen on Willow's ears. They discussed and comforted each other for the remainder of the practice time, and they found solace in the other as one of the few who knew their secrets. Their friendship became very strong, they relied on each other often for support or just a comforting shoulder.



Giles was a superb mentor, but Willow found that she needed someone her own age, someone experiencing new things along with her. Since the initial telling, she and Xander discussed what she and Giles were oft times too embarrassed to. They spoke of what they desired of life, and who they desired. The later was mainly Xander's rambling, he knew what he wanted, preferably a Lord Tall, Thick and Kind. But for Willow, that designation was more difficult to make.



Setting the book aside, her thoughts too pervasive to think of reading, Willow blew out her bedside light.



Attraction she knew, from personal study, was relative. It was something that you felt because you were told to, taught, and accustomed with. It could be linked to a moment of happiness as a child or a point of terrific trauma, if that person shared the look of someone for whom you felt indebted or strongly attracted to. Something that most people used as a shallow and pointless tool to feel assuaged. She could be attracted to a flower, but she wouldn't sleep with the flower, or ask for its petal in marriage. Lustful attraction could be attributed to many things from power, to kindness demonstrated by dress, or demeanor.



At any rate, attraction was something that she was not permitted to feel. Even if she found someone for whom she felt something more than a passing interest, what could she do about it? No one could know about her situation. She could not convince anyone of her unknowledgable, never-practiced femininity, and the facade of maledom only went clothes-deep.



She was without sex, and could therefore engage in none. No one could love her, if they didn't know everything about her.



"No," she told Xander, both picking absently at the grass surrounding them. "It isn't difficult in the least."



------------------------------



The past day's events had gone by without little time to stop and breathe. It had taken all of her strength just to get to this point, and now that she was here, in bed, she could not rest. Tara huffed a sigh of light frustration. Her Madame would murder her if she had puffy eyes for tomorrow's ball.



Tara tried to feel some excitement for the event, but never succeeded. All was the same, was it not? Whether or not she attended, whether or not all went well, whether or not she went in the finest silk and satin laced dress in all Paris or a course burlap shift, she would still be wed to whomever her father desired. No one would turn down the offer of the strongest and most powerful force in the cultured world.



France was what she had over-heard a peasant refer to as, "poli'ically, a bit so tasty, you 'ad t' lick your fingers an' ever'thin' else its tooched for a couple o' days after you ate it." She chuckled to herself at the enthusiasm and accuracy with which the man had spoken. Fashionably, no one out-did the French, politically, no one had more power. The layout of the land and its fertility beat out any competitor for most strategical. Wealth was a successor to such conditions, completing the 'tasty bit'.



Yawning, though no where near ready to sleep, Tara sat up and went to her window. Maybe the fresh air would calm her, bidding her goodnight. Opening the window wide, she examined the land below her. The expanse of the village was lit quite efficiently by the light of the moon, hanging quietly in the sky.



She hadn't realize that she had been staring before movement snapped her to attention. Where the castle bent in a horseshoe, there was another window open and a figure demurely gazing down on the village just as she had been. The small light behind the person drew a silhouette, seeming to accentuate the interest in their actions, but also something else.



Loneliness? Could she see that from this far distance? Maybe it went deeper than just seeing it. She hadn't a clue as to the identity of the person she was now transfixed with. The length of hair that danced gently with the breeze denoted a male, but to Tara's senses, that did not fit. She sensed a woman's thoughts and dreams across the distance of the square. She wasn't sure how, but she felt that the person that her gaze now rested on was too gentle, too thoughtful, and much to kind to be a male in the courts of these times. In fact, to this day, from all of her midnight peaks out of her window, she had never seen a man at one. Especially not one that she was so...



"Drawn to?" She asked herself with a slight frown. She did not know where the feeling came from, but she felt a sadness clench at her heart at the sight of the figure. "So alone..." she barely whispered.



Just then, the figure straightened and turned, presumably, to go to bed. With a candle directly beyond the window, Tara could have sworn she saw through the night-shift a...



"From more than one hundred feet's distance?" She scoffed at herself and the errant thought. "And that hair? No one would show themselves a woman in a royal castle with hair of that length."



Losing interest in fresh air, Tara moved from her own sill, and closed the window securely. Hopefully her bed would still be warm, although she doubted that her trip to the window would ease her curious mind into sleeping. Blowing out her candle, snuggling into her bed, and swimming in blankets, she closed her eyes.



"Of course he didn't have breasts."



____________________



Hope you enjoyed.



mary



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 Post subject: Re: ba da dee do da dive, chapter five!
PostPosted: Thu Mar 03, 2005 10:18 pm 
Oh Willow got busted! Sort of...ok maybe not. But almost! That was another great update. Very nice to see that Tara is so perceptive to what's going on. I was curious to see how you were going to get them to figure out the whole Willow/William thing. Can't wait to see when they finally meet at the ball...hopefully Tara is on Willow's dance card!

"Heaven's not a place that you go when you die...it's that moment in life when you actually feel alive"



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 Post subject: Re: ba da dee do da dive, chapter five!
PostPosted: Fri Mar 04, 2005 4:56 am 
'Busted' indeed :D This is going to be really interesting - Tara might be dismissing the thought at the moment, but surely as she and Willow interact more it'll lead to a growing suspicion of the truth, which will no doubt lead to nervousness from all parties involved.



On another note, I got a chuckle out of Willow musing about the acceptance of extra-marital affairs. I'm thinking that once she and Tara have gotten to know each other, and accepted their feelings and respective genders, they'll have more trouble managing an intra-marital affair, what with everyone doing their best to keep them apart so Tara doesn't find out William's secret.



It was really interesting to read how Willow's coping with her situation, having to play a male 24 hours a day, and how that's affecting how she sees herself. I'm very much looking forward to more.



I don't suppose there's any chance that William's dance card will read: 'Tara, Tara, Tara, Tara, more Tara'? :D Probably not, but hey, I can dream can't I? :)

Chris Cook

Through the Looking-glass

A Willow and Tara for every world.

Smut Bunnies!: Saving the world, sexily!



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 Post subject: Re: ba da dee do da dive, chapter five!
PostPosted: Fri Mar 04, 2005 7:38 am 
I love how you interplay the luxuriousness of Willow's bedchamber, with everything so impeccably prepared against her loneliness. It's a sharp contrast.
Quote:


She was without sex, and could therefore engage in none. No one could love her, if they didn't know everything about her.
That's ths sadness of the situation Willow finds herself in, that she almost cannot become a sexual being, cannot expect to experience love or pleasure, except for being serviced by clandestine and silent young men in loveless unions.



I can't wait for the ball, how the prince and princess meet, and how they manage to fall in love and be together despite the well meaning actions the royal advisors will sure put in motion.



Oh and did I read it right, or I'm imagining things, but is Xander gay?

------

quiet thoughts



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 Post subject: Re: ba da dee do da dive, chapter five!
PostPosted: Fri Mar 04, 2005 10:16 am 
Willow's thoughts....heavy



Tara picking up on them....not surprising (shows their connection)



Tara's musing "Of course he didn't have breasts."...amusing



Verbage...flowing



Your analysis....amazing



This fic....excellent



I really really like the way you write. And the ball is in the next update yah?



-wiccanbotanist

A sign seen in a botanist's front yard: "Please keep off the Bouteloua gracilis"

Sugas mea papilium (Suck my butterfly) - A Woman in Uniform by umgaynow

I used to be indecisive, but now I'm not so sure.



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 Post subject: Re: ba da dee do da dive, chapter five!
PostPosted: Fri Mar 04, 2005 7:21 pm 
I like the way that Tara can see things about Willow that no one else can. :pride



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 Post subject: Re: ba da dee do da dive, chapter five!
PostPosted: Sat Mar 05, 2005 12:18 am 
Tara had better be on William's dance card. Otherwise, how's she going to get to know Willow?

I got bitten by a drunk lesbian! Does that mean I'll turn into one?



~my friend Mary



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 Post subject: Re: ba da dee do da dive, chapter five!
PostPosted: Sat Mar 05, 2005 3:04 pm 
I love the plotline. You've taken a completely different approach from most other W/T writers, so I find that I've to think about these characters differently. Their marriage is prearranged, and both of them know that they would be together. So now all they have to do is... get to know each other. It's so strange to think about, but I can't imagine meeting someone for the first time knowing that they're my future spouse whether I want them to be or not. There's a lot of pressure on Willow and Tara to get along- which, I imagine, would make a casual friendship virtually impossible, but if anyone can manage, it's them. Of course, Tara's shrewd as ever.



I can't wait to see how the story develops.

Do not misunderestimate the intellectial brilliantliness of religious fundamentalistics.



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 Post subject: oh dear...
PostPosted: Sat Mar 05, 2005 5:37 pm 
Hey all,



I'm afraid I've some bad news...



A unanimous vote went down (without my imput) that decided against subscribing to the internet.



So needless to say, I'll be having some difficulty updating my fic as often as I would like to. I'm on the computer at the library right now, and I get an hour limit. I'll try for an update a week and I know, from my interest in more than a few fics that only updated once a week, that can be torturous.



I'm really sorry, I hadn't anticipated this.



Have good days,



mary



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 Post subject: notes on feedback
PostPosted: Sat Mar 12, 2005 6:14 pm 
At the library, have thirty minutes left, so before I finish with the update, I'm going to answer a few questions, comments and just respond to the ever-wonderful stuff you say about the fic.



stillrunning: Yep, and yeah, just sort of. She doesn't know who inhabits the room, which could have complicated things a bit, and she'll mostly just disregard the slight of sight, but it's still fun. I've always taken Tara to be perceptive. Especially one that must grow up so quickly. Ah yes, the secret identity has a ways to go yet... Thanks for your comments.



*geeze. I don't like using the internet at the library. There's this guy beside me who's making these disturbing noises while he plays an online game. I don't want to know...*



Artemis: Very much in the affirmative for nervous action. That is pretty funny sometimes, how we muse about things so deeply when we will never use or do them in the future. The whole 'Willow having trouble defining who she is' kind of hit me by accident, but I'm glad it did now instead of later, after I had written her character for a time. That would be supreme if her card read like that. But we shall see...



hidden watson: A deep contrast, and yet so hopelessly immersed that she can't see that until she's free of it. Because keeping this fic serious makes it difficult for one of its main characters to be cheeky and fun like Willow should be, I have to make her surroundings more complicating, more draining, to compensate. I hope that's getting conveyed... I don't want anyone to think that I'm changing her character into someone less fun, I'm not, you just have to wait for it. You all probably knew that though. Oh yes, Xander is most definitely into the boys. I love that idea, but on a side note situation. I will introduce a character specifically for him, but that will never be a main focus. Sorry, I'm too one-tracked for that. But yes, Xander = gay.



wiccanbotanist: Always saying stuff like that... you're going to give me a big head, you know that? Thanks for the inspiration to keep going, all.



sam7777: But of course. I suppose it wouldn't be difficult to understand how people were really feeling in that society, but no one ever bothered to look.



Tempest Duer: Poker? Ha, I didn't mean the pun... alright, I'm done.



ravenousgrape: I was hoping to get into more of the suffering and inescapability that arranged marriages evoke, but in this situation, there won't be much time for sulking, seeing as they're gonna lurv eachother!



Well, the update should be coming soon, and again, I'm so sorry. Life isn't fair, but it's fairer than death. I guess I can't ask for more than that.



later



mary



Edited by: WitchFu at: 3/12/05 5:18 pm


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 Post subject: Re: notes on feedback
PostPosted: Sun Mar 13, 2005 12:46 am 
Oh, aren't you a funny one.

I got bitten by a drunk lesbian! Does that mean I'll turn into one?



~my friend Mary



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 Post subject: sigh
PostPosted: Tue Mar 29, 2005 3:33 pm 
I'm still here, and I desperately long for the time to write, but unfortunately my situation doesn't seem ready to change any time soon. I'm so sorry, I thought I would be able to keep this up, but things didn't turn out right. I will be writing occasionally, but not nearly enough. :sob



I miss having the time to seriously write. I'm half-way done with a chapter now, and I decided to drop a little encouragement in here with the remaining five minutes that I have.



Hope all is well with the readers, and good day!



mary



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 Post subject: Re: sigh
PostPosted: Wed Mar 30, 2005 2:07 pm 
Awww... it's okay. By all means take your time. :)



I do look forward to the next update, though, when you have it.

Do not misunderestimate the intellectial brilliantliness of religious fundamentalistics.



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 Post subject: Finally, Ba da boo boo bix, chapter six
PostPosted: Wed Apr 20, 2005 1:44 pm 
Willow's ceremonial wear was exquisitely made; tailored to a faultlessness only the wealthiest could know. Her tunic, a smart shade of emerald, fit snuggly onto her cut figure. There was no need for embellishment on the part of her proportions. Her shoulders, while well-muscled, were the ideal in decency; chest and abdomen stiff and full; all tapering to a becoming waist. Femininity came to its fruition at this juncture. She could be strong-handed, and yet not risk improper over-size in vulgar muscle mass. The deep resonance of the green tunic and hose were off-set with ribbed golden piping. Both played dazzlingly against her flashing red hair and dancing eyes.



Though they danced little in the presence of others. Most assuredly not at this time of gowning. To Willow, this was undoubtedly the most loathed stage in her preparations for the day. She could do nothing but stand patiently, silently, still as the servants sewed the hose taught. It was uncomfortable, to say the very least, to have your manservant stay the ties of your netherstocks and trunk hose; one that she had learned to tolerate as all else. Of course, any part of her anatomy that proclaimed gender was carefully suited before the arrival of service.



This included the binding of her chest. This ensured only the snug binding was seen by the eyes of the servers. It was rumored that the prince had a scar that he remained frightfully embarrassed by, and would let no one look upon it. The binding was of softer linen, though the pressure asserted told at times. This left her thankful for the modest cleavage that she had been given. Her braies were the most important tool to her rouse. The imperative article covered the lower regions of her femininity quite well, with a specially added "package" for the lining on the inside-front to fool even the tailor. A well-made camisia was worn over these, and thus was the state that Willow always appeared to her dressing troupe.



Tonight’s decorations of the young prince were exceedingly more elaborate than was the normal. Each garment was fixed to its place, studied, removed for any adjustments, and applied once more. This process took as long as the perfection and patience of her dressers lasted.



First her hose, and trunk hose; netherstocks and slippers; layers, yards, miles of ruffles attached to her various joints and abutments; her neck gussets, doublet, breeches, waistcoat, and hair tie. Her paste jewelry came next, only the finest would supply. Slippers, sash, bodkin, powder-box (though she did not partake), gloves and chain were all treated with the same unwavering devotion to perfection.



Her hands felt as though they had been quartered and drawn from the frenzied scrubbing they had received hours before. Similarly, her body thrummed from the washing treatment she had thought to perform earlier. At first, she was met with only the most stubborn refusal for a washing of that kind, but she had insisted, using references of Laws of Gallantry and charts to show the benefits. No one would hear of a past-time such as that being preformed so often when Louis XIV thought it necessary only to bathe annually. Willow knew better out of common sense and wondered how many other people would go on reeking of herbal powders to mask uncleanliness. Pomanders were frequented in use more than even wigs in a society where cleanliness was next to unheard of.



It was not the stimulating conversation that caused the Prince's hands to quiver in anticipation. That would be impossible to find in such company. In fact, she knew not why she anticipated so. Her performance was guaranteed the utmost in precision. She had been trained rigorously, by well-understanding men of high training themselves. She had never failed to act properly in her requirements to her charade. Why, then, did she fret?



Naturally, every fear that could enter her mind, plausible or otherwise, was doing so. Was she prepared sufficiently? Was she graceful enough? Properly smug?



Moments before her mind had finished preparing itself for a mild panic, she was quietly, and unobtrusively notified of her costumes completion.



As a medium-sized mirror was placed before her vision, she saw herself as a mysterious and well-assured man of power. It was strange really, to see one's self look so regal, and yet internally feel so small. It would certainly assist her through this night's trials.



Her hair, having been well-washed in boiled soapwort, bore the sheen of combed-dry attention. It floated royally above her shoulders, awaiting the tie, equal in grandeur surely to any piece of her costume. She had never taken to wearing it in ringlets or plaits, her sirmaids deeming it more brazen for her unveiling to go without. The simple arrangement would take back many, she would certainly hear more than a few hisses of quickly drawn breath. She was, after all, the outcast, the brigand, until deemed worthy. While Willow may not have been the top in knowledge on fashion, she saw the truth in their schemes, and was more than a little excited about that fact.



The reactions placed on the first night of dining were nothing more than satisfactory, as she knew not how she felt. Of course, Willow had never seen social gatherings before that first dinner, but she knew enough to be certain that they were pleased at what they saw. She did not know if that pleased her. Her position meant power, nothing more. If she resembled a frog, they would think nothing less of her. The evenings thereafter had been difficult. She dealt with it as she could, making light conversation with whomever she was placed next to. One bored of topics such as the latest wig fashions, or the new scents in pomanders.



This night would be no different, she told herself. No different, and no more difficult. Though, whether she believed that or not, she remained uncertain.



__________________





As of yet, her stomach had not commenced its expected frenzy. She wondered at the loss of something so expected, as she clutched the front of her bodice. She had thought, as was the case on previous nights of occasion, that her nerves would be on their ends at this point. Nothing was stirring, however, even in the most usually disconcerted of places. Could it be that she was becoming accustomed to the trying state of anxiety?



Tara sighed as she gently sat at the edge of her grand divan. She realized that she was sighing far more often than was usual. Her thoughts were, at constant, poignant and wandering to places that she had not traversed previous to. She felt the need in her as palpable as thirst. She needed something, though she couldn't place what. Of course she couldn't. How could she identify something that she had never known? It was verily important; strikingly familiar, and yet so vague. It was a purpose that much she knew, but beyond that broad conception her query remained mysterious.



This final, and imperative, night was the most significant. And yet brought her the least apprehension. Indeed, she felt as though she were gowning for nothing more than an evening of painting.



This night would prove answers. She felt it within, and although she could not understand how it would manifest itself, she knew it would be aloof bearing her thoughts to a clearer, more present awareness.



Tara's mistress would be in shortly to summon her to the event. Even this could not stir a feeling of unsteadiness. She would have to attend on her thoughts. Being patient was something that had never troubled her before, though she knew this instance would tell otherwise.



Tonight, the bride of the prince would be proclaimed from every rooftop, from the balisters, from every mouth. That name would be hers, there was no question of that. Looking down, she saw, plainly, that her kirtle had become matted between her unsettled fingers.



"Ah, the first sign of unravel. Events may start to make some semblance yet."



----------------------------



note: If anyone would like particular explanations for the out-dated and unused vocabulary in this or any portion of the story, I would be happy to oblige. One that I'm sure a few of you will be wondering about,

Pomanders: These were small, metal balls, with one hole for binding and the other hole open, and used to stuff herbs and sweet-smelling flowers in. The ball was then bound to the wrist in an unobtrusive fashion for the event. This was in the place of baths. Yummy.

I'm so sorry for the long wait, and the short entry. *sigh* Hope you enjoyed what little there was.



mary





"The mystery of life is not a problem to solve but a reality to experience." :wink



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 Post subject: Re: Finally, Ba da boo boo bix, chapter six
PostPosted: Wed Apr 20, 2005 6:40 pm 
mary, how lovely to hear from you, I am full of admiration that you are still able to continue with posting the story even without internet access at home, bravo! The dressing of Prince Willow gives us a great insight to the workings of this court, and that the prince always appears to his dressers bound and packaged, to me, is a metaphor to how she is 1) bound to her role, and 2) suitably packaged so nothing is amiss to observers. There is more to just putting on clothes.



Despite all the training, it seems our prince has butterflies, is it because of anticipation of the announcement of his bride? Surely he doesn't particularly care what she looks like?



And the butterflies are also with Princess Tara.
Quote:
Tonight, the bride of the prince would be proclaimed from every rooftop, from the balisters, from every mouth. That name would be hers, there was no question of that.
I wonder if the bethrothed will have a chance to see each other even.

------

quiet thoughts



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 Post subject: Re: Finally, Ba da boo boo bix, chapter six
PostPosted: Thu Apr 21, 2005 9:07 am 
Great chapter, I'm so glad you're still able to update, in spite of the no-internet suckiness. I'll be patient waiting for more.



Wow, that dressing scene was just layer after layer of 'not Willow'... it's like camouflage, and so appropriate for her actual position - just like her body, she's strapped and hidden in layers of behaviour and protocol, and the real Willow so rarely gets to shine through.



(I know it's probably skipping ahead, and I like how you're taking the time to build the story gradually, but I'm really looking forward to the eventual moment when Tara gets the 'naked truth', just Willow in all her glory :heart )



Also, I'm definitely glad Willow knows the value of regular bathing, cause ick and so forth. So odd the things royalty gets up to for no apparent reason :crazy



I don't recall if I mentioned it before, but I love your use of language, all the formality and precision seems very apt for the period of the story - it really sets the tone for everything.

Chris Cook

Through the Looking-glass

A Willow and Tara for every world.

Smut Bunnies!: Saving the world, sexily!



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 Post subject: Re: Finally, Ba da boo boo bix, chapter six
PostPosted: Thu Apr 21, 2005 1:13 pm 
On the off chance of further inflating your head. I am really really glad to see an update, because as always it was another great one. I have to admit I'm a little disappointed that they haven't encountered each other yet. I was sure this update they'd be meeting. But I know it is for the best, need to build up the suspense. It was entertaining to see them both nervous. Hope your situation improves and that you will beable to write and post freely again soon.



And as before I will await patiently for your next update.



-wiccanbotanist

I like having low self-esteem, makes me feel special - Jane Lane (from Daria)

Sugas mea papilium (Suck my butterfly) - A Woman in Uniform by umgaynow

I used to be indecisive, but now I'm not so sure.



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 Post subject: Re: Finally, Ba da boo boo bix, chapter six
PostPosted: Thu Apr 21, 2005 8:52 pm 
Yay, an update. I'm glad to see one. This is a way, way cool fic. Crossdressing is fun and Willow makes for one hot dude.

I got bitten by a drunk lesbian! Does that mean I'll turn into one?



~my friend Mary



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 Post subject: Re: Finally, Ba da boo boo bix, chapter six
PostPosted: Thu Apr 21, 2005 9:48 pm 
i don't think i've posted feedback for this story yet, but i just wanted to let you know that i'm enjoying it muchly :) all i can say is i'm waiting for some wedding night surprises!



looking forward to the next update,

brandy

"i'm not like the girls that you've known but i believe i'm worth coming home to." tori amos, sleeps with butterflies



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 Post subject: Re: chapter six
PostPosted: Thu Apr 21, 2005 10:33 pm 
I haven't posted feeback for you before, but I've been reading since chapter one and I wanted to say that I really love this story and the way it is written. I hope you can continue to write, I'll certainly be looking foward to your updates no matter how long they take.



Just as I was reading this chapter I had the same thought Artemis did about how appropiate your formal style is for the story. Needless to say, I agree. The fic wouldn't be half as enjoyable without it.



I too had thought they would meet by now, but I'm actually happy they didn't. And yet can't wait either. You had me on the edge of my seat by the end (and at the beginning too, to be honest ;) )




I'm a teeny tiny little ant, checking out this and that

I am nothing so you have nothing to hide


'Pea' - Red Hot Chili Peppers



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 Post subject: Re: chapter six
PostPosted: Fri Apr 22, 2005 12:15 am 
Oh wow. This is awesome. I am thoroughly in love with this story. Your attention to detail is incredible. Every subtle nuance is here.. and it is amazing.



I cannot wait to read what happens now that the ball has finally arrived.



Simply wonderful.



Cheers

DW

"Promise me you'll never be linear." "On my trout."

Have you had your Preachification today? Get it at my site: Shadows and Light



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 Post subject: Re: chapter six
PostPosted: Fri Apr 22, 2005 4:29 pm 
Here is another story that I read a while back, when I first discovered "Through the Looking Glass" and the Kitten Board. My hopes for updates were kept alive by your quick posts to let us know that you're still hanging in there. ;)



I've really really been thoroughly engrossed in this tale. I've read it about 3 times now to make sure that I took in all of the lovely details you've provided for us. I'm a sucker for narrative--I'll take that over loads of dialogue any day (which is strange for a theatre teacher/practitioner). And you've provided us with such a rich narrative--so full of sensory and literary imagery. Beautiful.



I'm most impressed by the walls that you've built around W and T -- Walls that are both literal and metaphoric. By taking us deeply into their minds, we are able to see how both W and T deal with and react to these walls. So it will be interesting to see what happens when their combined strength is able to make the mighty walls crumble...and, yes, I am positive that this will happen.



The notion that each of them is merely a commodity to be used as barter is a fascinating one. This appeared to be normal practice during the era -- arranging marriages and, in effect, trading children in order to gain more wealth and power. We "modern" folk look at this with disdain. But it brings to my mind the ways in which we have merely changed the trades we make. No, we don't necessarily arrange marriages for wealth and power these days, but in what other ways are our lives, talents, souls traded? Used? Even prostituted? All without our consent. Often without our knowledge. Again, it will be interesting to see W and T recapture their own value --individually and together -- and redistribute that wealth.



Again, a really nice story, Mary. I look forward to more updates in the future. I'm sorry about your interenet situation. I know that has to suck. If I could lend you mine, I most certainly would. Here's to hoping you get more computer/internet time.



Carleen :wave




‘Well hello you big old monster you, I fart in your general direction!’ --Willow WtVS: Episode One: Hellmouth High



"I support your lifestyle choice. You go gay girl." -- Anya A Hot and Heavy Halloween



"Please feel free to enjoy your lesbianism." -- Anya Art Appreciation



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 Post subject: Re: The Naked Truth
PostPosted: Tue Apr 26, 2005 8:09 pm 
Offline
3. Flaming O

Joined: Mon Apr 25, 2005 5:43 pm
Posts: 140
Location: Washington
Nice job on your story, the detail is impressive.

I can't wait for Will and Tara to meet... do a little dance... :dance

~Sappho


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 Post subject: Re: The Naked Truth
PostPosted: Wed Apr 27, 2005 5:28 pm 
The dressing scene reminded me of the beginning of Dangerous Liaisons. The complicated fashions of the 18th century have always been fascinating to me. I like the way you switch from one to the other's POV. How could the nobility do much of anything in those get ups? I really like this setup. It's quite likely that Tara will be made to marry Prince "William" and while this may seem great for :wtkiss . the issue of the heir (and spare) will guarantee alot of trouble for :willow and :tara .


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 Post subject: my name is not Kevin, this is chapter seven
PostPosted: Mon May 16, 2005 6:34 pm 
Offline
1. Blessed Wannabe

Joined: Mon May 16, 2005 6:02 pm
Posts: 9
For this night, nothing but silk would please the Madame. And then, only just. Tara's preparations were tedious and debated. There may have been little question as to who the future bride would be, as was the case in most circles, but no chances were taken in her appearance. This was the night. All had not been arranged or decided, and there was every chance that the king could abort at any moment, that his well-trained son would see something disagreeable in the young princess.

Her chest, for the most obvious example, was a never-ending topic of abuse. Tara's Madame would not allow such an important event to pass without a comment to those unfashionable growths. Oddly enough, the style stood at this: Breast measured in petite, and held firmly high. Meaning that you had to have small breasts, and wear clothes that would seem to say, "I am in need of a larger bosom." While completely dismissing those with a larger endowment, distaste evident.

Tara disliked the adjustments to hers or anyone else's bodies for the sake of fashion. Though she would likely never voice her thoughts. There was very little that Tara admired about her "class and station". That was a fact that there was no ear to hear, nor would there ever likely be.

The silk that Tara had been layered in was only the finest. Of course, this was flawed in the eyes of her agitated perfectionist Madame. With corsets and stockings, bindings, lacing, bustier, and enough ambiguous materials to clothe a household of hard-working people, the humble Tara disappeared beneath. Her weight may have been a petite 130 pounds in a night-shift, but in her formal ware, she made an even 200lb.

Awoken at dawn, through a hurried first-food and taken to be gowned, Tara's day had been consumed in the event. She had not owned a moment of solitude, no rest or composition. Only the preparations made their way into the workings of this day, and yet, she still found time to be thoughtful. While rehearsing possible answers to posed questions, she had pondered the future of this kingdom. While gowning the kirtles and stockings, her mind had wondered to how soon the marriage would be. As she was looked over for any abnormalities in costume, she had thought, briefly, of the young prince.

The prince had managed to stay from her mind quite completely. When she thought of the marriage, he entered not into it. She simply lived here, spoke to different servants and had slightly altered duties.

Fortunately, until this moment, the unsavory idea of post-wedding rituals had stayed from her mind as well. She knew very little about that practice, only being told that her king would lead the actions. Nothing was required but her ability to receive his part of consummation and conceiving, after which they would not contact each other for anything other than formal affairs. It was strange really, to think that she would be heading into something she had no possible conclusion about. From eavesdropping on the scullery maids, a wide-eyed Tara of eight knew at least that one had to be naked and rub their lips together to make it official. The kissing was optional, unless she had heard wrong. So this was what made women swell with child? Nakedness with a man? She supposed that it thus made sense as to why a woman of society covered herself so. It would be dangerous to touch too much, and impregnate oneself quite on accident.

With a renewed tolerance for her yards of clothing, Tara took in a long and satisfying breath. "At least," she thought to herself, "I'll only have to endure it once."
_______________________


The sound of myriads of voices, male and female, fell on Willow's ears. It was a new sensation to the prince, as of yet, having only experienced it's like just in the recent days past. Scuttled behind a drape to conceal her from view, Willow crouched like a curious feline. Taking a peak, she saw many lords and ladies, all dressed impeccably, no doubt to best all others. The sexes seemed to group together, which comforted Willow slightly. She, at least, could feel less obliged to be a lady's gentleman while in the presence of "other" men.

At this moment, 18 and strong, the Prince of Surrounding Northern England wanted nothing more than to run frantically away from the elaborately decorated hall with its mocking women and boasting men. The music was wonderful and she managed to recognize several pieces. The upbeat waltzes seemed to remind her of her impending danger, however, while the sonatas reminded of a destined loveless life.

Jumping with a quiet exclamation of, "Ack!" Willow turned to face the beast who had tried to attack her. She found Peter there instead, not certain whether or not to be relieved. He was the picture her had always been: quiet, eyes obverted, and patiently waiting on Willow. With an inclination of his head, Peter announced,

"It is time, Sir William, to introduce you formally to your future kingdom. They are all waiting anxiously."

Willow slithered deeper into her respite, "Absence makes the heart grow fonder?"

Peter glanced upward to her eyes with his ever dead expression, and down once more.

Willow stole a deep breath, and gave a quick nod. Assuming her well practiced pose, she walked through the curtain and into the great ballroom. A man Willow did not recognize stood at her side. When Willow was fully inside the room the mysterious man produced a horn from his jacket and proceeded to give it a sound blow. Willow started, bewildered for a moment before regaining control. Everyone around her seemed nonplused at the outburst, so she too thought nothing more of it. Composed, Willow gulped as every face in the room turned to look at her.

The horn man lowered his weapon, and Willow felt herself sigh with unexpected relief. She did not expect him to let out a great roaring sentence next. "Sir William, Prince and future King of Surrounding Northern England and following states!"

Willow fought the urge to cover her ears fitfully as the man bellowed her title. The crowd then preformed bows and curtsies in unison. Willow inclined her head, remembering her training. Thinking joyfully, "This is simpler than I had anticipated. Why worry how I will act if those acts have been designated and molded into my very instincts?" Lifting her chin in a rush of confidence, Willow made her way into the main dancing floor.

The people were free to go about their business after the initial introduction, but many women were avidly trying to catch her eye. They made attempts at bowing very low; low enough to show things that Willow recognized all too well. They would coo their names and titles into her ear, dare to glance a touch on her shoulders, arms and hands. "Such liberties there women take! As though we were already on singularly close terms..." Willow was astonished, and feared her cheeks were scandalously burning. She could see that the gentleman were, for the most part, standing aside while she received more flirtatious actions in these moments than they had in their entire lives. It was unwanted, no less! Willow realized that befriending a man well enough to have easy conversation was going to prove much more difficult than she had estimated. "They're all jealous! They despise me, and I've yet to say a single word!"

She knew that the next step was, of course, to do just that: befriend and charm a host of gentlemen. It would not do for her to shamelessly dwell amongst the doting females. Making her way to a group of young men, Willow heard the comments of the ladies that she had left in her wake. At first she didn't know who they were referring to, but when she looked towards them; their eyes were all on her. She heard such things as, "So handsome!...Charming!...Do I but dream?" These women were in varying ages, some as much as twenty years her senior to just old enough to hold a tea cup. "He has just touched my glove! Shall I never wash it!" She had to find a more reasonable environment. To Willow, it was as though she were being revealed a god in their presence. The feeling was undoubtedly novel, but unwanted all the same.

As she approached the men, she felt safer; she knew that for a woman to announce herself into the presence of several gentlemen with no gentleman escort would be disgraceful. And the accompanied gentleman would be shamed if the woman made any advance toward any other male.

Straightening her doublet, she cleared her throat for its deepening properties and joined the circle. A comment with some humor had just been made and the lot of the circle began to laugh gently, careful not to disturb the precarious hair styles. Willow chuckle in suit, not hearing what was said, but certain that it would include her in the group. Unfortunately, she was right. All men turned toward her. The man who seemed to have control of this gathering laughed quietly to himself while looking her up and down with a sniff of distaste. He posed of the prince, "Besides the obvious, 'my lord', why is it that they did not see fit to produce you until this time?"

Several men in the group laughed, keeping their faces away from the prince. So that's his game, Willow thought lightly. Smiling secretly, Willow looked up calmly. "They say that one learns from one's own environment, taking each individual attribute to be its own. They simply did not want to expose me to the less..." it was her turn to look the man over, "savory aspects of society until absolutely necessary." Looking confused for a moment, she continued before leaving, "Well, gentlemen, do excuse me, it seems I was mistaken. I was under the impression that this ball was not to be host to cull-children. Please, continue as you were, and I'll be on my way. See that you're home by a reasonable hour?" Turning on her heal, smile in place, she headed toward a table with various eatery.

Muttering to herself, Willow reprimanded her irresponsible display of vengeance. A slight touch to her shoulder brought her to the present. Surely it was Peter, telling her what nonsense that was. As she turned, however, she saw instead a tall, smiling gentleman of no more than twenty. He seemed very amused with sandy brown hair and almost dog-like sincerity in his eyes. Bowing slightly, he introduced himself, "Sir William, may I distinguish myself in your company. I am Lord Riley of Stockton. I was very eager to meet you, and after that display," he inclined his head towards the fuming gathering of men over his shoulder, "I know why." His eyes were alive, he truly found it amusing.

Instantly warming, Willow laughed and encouraged his to do the same. Taking a breath, she said, "Well. You know me it seems, but I am William none the less."

"I should say not. I never would have thought any one capable of humor in this kingdom of rigidity. If you will excuse me, your lordship, all here seem so staunch." He looked uncertain at first, not sure what the royal’s answer would be.

"Lord Riley, I am greatly indebted to you!" Willow said as she clasped a flute with champagne bubbling inside.

"My Lord?" Riley asked, brow furrowed in confusion.

"I assumed that no one shared my views here, and was fully expecting the treatment that you witnessed, all of this night." Handing him a glass, which he took distractedly, she continued, "and please, do call me William."

They had begun to walk. The center of the room served as dancing space, but a good portion of the guests were to the side chatting and drinking merrily. Willow was draining her first flute and reaching for a second when she noticed Riley's own glass remained untouched.

"Do you not drink, Lord Riley?" Willow asked slightly embarrassed at her own alcohol consumption.

"Oh, yes, if I am to call you William, you must refer to me as Finn. All of my companions do. And while I do enjoy a good brandy, even a wine now and then, champagne is rather horrid in my opinion." He made a face and lengthened the distance from the glass to himself by placing the offending article onto a passing waiter's tray.

Curious, Willow probed, "Why do your companions call you 'Fin', If I may ask?"

"Ah, that. It is a rather long and painful story of my part. Pertaining much to my distaste for champagne. I shall save it for a time when we have both become too intoxicated to care about pride of propriety." Riley sighed, smiling almost regretful, but in all good humor.

Willow was intrigued, and realized that he could very well become a wonderful friend. Maybe he would even understand her friendship with Xander? No. Undoubtedly, he had been trained from birth to refrain from the befriending of hired help. The thought of Xander reminded her that he was at this very gathering. "I should at least try to find him..." she mused to herself while glancing around. Riley, noticing the search, piped up.

"Do you know anyone in attendance this evening, Lord William?"

Willow, realizing that she had been caught, faltered, "Y-yes. I do."

Surprised, Riley raised his brows, the same suggestion of a smile on his face. He seemed to wear the expression endlessly. "I was of the impression that you were a fresh face in society. Tell me, who is it that you are acquainted with?"

Willow was about to opt for claiming that she truly knew no one, when she caught sight of, "Giles!" she exclaimed, her gaze directed towards a group of distinguished tutors. Her outburst grabbed the attention of a few nearby guests who looked on with dissatisfaction.

"Giles?" Riley repeated.

Willow explained, "Giles is my best tutor. He really is wonderful. Of course, you are right. I'm very new and I'm afraid I know not a soul outside of the components of my residence." Still looking in the direction where Giles stood, she failed to notice the frown that creased her company's brow.

Then, as Willow's gaze returned, Riley replaced his expression to that of a nervous smile. "You know me." His smile faltered, but remained genuine.

"Oh blast!" Turning, Willow saw a group of older gentlemen advancing towards her line of sight. Looking to Riley, she explained herself, "I do apologize. How terribly rude of me. You see, I have noted more than a few fellows whom I have no wish to make contact with. They seem to be heading this way."

His query met, Riley's smile returned. Before Willow could react, he scooped up her arm, a "not a problem," uttered with excitedly hushed tones. They walked through the crowd purposefully, surprisingly drawing few stares.

Once they had successfully evaded, Riley circled to face Willow. "And now, Your Highness, you are once again safe." He bowed for the dramatic effect ending his daring show of character.

Willow caught her breath from the excitement. She wondered what it meant for Riley to have taken her arm as he did. True, for men of society to brace each other was not uncommon. But surely, a man below the station of the other would not dare to do such a thing. It was the man with higher station who commanded the discussions, who directed the proceedings. It did not offend her in the least, merely surprised her that he thought nothing of it. Perhaps, she thought, he assumed himself the commandant considering his stature, experience and it was, after all, his plan of evasion. Riley was looking to her again. He periodically glanced around, now having recognition of those Willow wished to avoid. He seemed so eager to please. Willow decided that she was comfortable with him, and felt that she knew him well enough to judge on certain ideals. She would tell him of Xander, but only if he provided himself seen. She would not look for him, and therefore, run a chance at avoiding a scene if Riley did not approve. Yes, that would be her pla-

Willow would have finished, rather happily, with her plan, but Xander seemed to know just how to complicate things. He had just stepping into her view. Sighing, she looked to Riley and smiled, "I have someone that I'd like you to meet."

Leading the way, Willow stepped up to the table that Xander had been setting, and cleared her throat. Xander looked up with some surprise, and smiled broadly, "Why hel-" He turned to mortification. Silent, he turned back to his work with a diligence he certainly didn't possess before.

Trying to hide a smile, Willow glanced about her to ensure no one thought oddly of the incident. She then led Riley to a corner of the room, not heavily occupied, and rather dimly lit. They waited, and there Xander appeared.

"I'm very sorry, Will. I thought for sure someone was going to start yellin' and screaming. Blue in the face, is what I thought. Lucky I caught myself." His smile was becoming more confident, and Willow thought it best to introduce the two men before Xander realized his presence and made a fool of himself.

"Xander, this is my newly acquainted friend, Lord Riley. And Lord Riley, I do wish for you to meet a very dear friend of mine whom I have known for a great length of time, Xander."

Xander's fear managed to only last a second before his mouth turned to a loping and untamed grin. Certainly he was trying for charming, but all that was produced was a miserable short-coming that would never fail to endear. He bowed respectfully as he uttered, "My Lord."

Riley was more stiff than what Willow had become accustomed to, as he lightly bowed back with an equally hardened, "Friend Xander."

This was what Willow had feared. She had hoped against all that he would look past station to the undeniable good that lay in Xander. Evidentially, she had looked for something that was not there. She was about to excuse them to the party, and appologize to both men involved, when she noticed something rather unusual. Riley did not seemed displeased in the least. In fact, his face had taken on something of a lax grin as well. Looking between the two, Willow found herself between what she could only describe as an immediate attraction.
"It seems Xander is not as alone in his tastes as I had imagined."

------------------------------------

I hope you all enjoy this, sorries all around for the delays. Any questions or anything will be well received and I'll answer/discuss the replies on my next update.
mary


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 Profile  
 
 Post subject: not eleven, chapter seven
PostPosted: Mon May 16, 2005 6:36 pm 
Offline
1. Blessed Wannabe

Joined: Mon May 16, 2005 6:02 pm
Posts: 9
For this night, nothing but silk would please the Madame. And then, only just. Tara's preparations were tedious and debated. There may have been little question as to who the future bride would be, as was the case in most circles, but no chances were taken in her appearance. This was the night. All had not been arranged or decided, and there was every chance that the king could abort at any moment, that his well-trained son would see something disagreeable in the young princess.

Her chest, for the most obvious example, was a never-ending topic of abuse. Tara's Madame would not allow such an important event to pass without a comment to those unfashionable growths. Oddly enough, the style stood at this: Breast measured in petite, and held firmly high. Meaning that you had to have small breasts, and wear clothes that would seem to say, "I am in need of a larger bosom." While completely dismissing those with a larger endowment, distaste evident.

Tara disliked the adjustments to hers or anyone else's bodies for the sake of fashion. Though she would likely never voice her thoughts. There was very little that Tara admired about her "class and station". That was a fact that there was no ear to hear, nor would there ever likely be.

The silk that Tara had been layered in was only the finest. Of course, this was flawed in the eyes of her agitated perfectionist Madame. With corsets and stockings, bindings, lacing, bustier, and enough ambiguous materials to clothe a household of hard-working people, the humble Tara disappeared beneath. Her weight may have been a petite 130 pounds in a night-shift, but in her formal ware, she made an even 200lb.

Awoken at dawn, through a hurried first-food and taken to be gowned, Tara's day had been consumed in the event. She had not owned a moment of solitude, no rest or composition. Only the preparations made their way into the workings of this day, and yet, she still found time to be thoughtful. While rehearsing possible answers to posed questions, she had pondered the future of this kingdom. While gowning the kirtles and stockings, her mind had wondered to how soon the marriage would be. As she was looked over for any abnormalities in costume, she had thought, briefly, of the young prince.

The prince had managed to stay from her mind quite completely. When she thought of the marriage, he entered not into it. She simply lived here, spoke to different servants and had slightly altered duties.

Fortunately, until this moment, the unsavory idea of post-wedding rituals had stayed from her mind as well. She knew very little about that practice, only being told that her king would lead the actions. Nothing was required but her ability to receive his part of consummation and conceiving, after which they would not contact each other for anything other than formal affairs. It was strange really, to think that she would be heading into something she had no possible conclusion about. From eavesdropping on the scullery maids, a wide-eyed Tara of eight knew at least that one had to be naked and rub their lips together to make it official. The kissing was optional, unless she had heard wrong. So this was what made women swell with child? Nakedness with a man? She supposed that it thus made sense as to why a woman of society covered herself so. It would be dangerous to touch too much, and impregnate oneself quite on accident.

With a renewed tolerance for her yards of clothing, Tara took in a long and satisfying breath. "At least," she thought to herself, "I'll only have to endure it once."
_______________________


The sound of myriads of voices, male and female, fell on Willow's ears. It was a new sensation to the prince, as of yet, having only experienced it's like just in the recent days past. Scuttled behind a drape to conceal her from view, Willow crouched like a curious feline. Taking a peak, she saw many lords and ladies, all dressed impeccably, no doubt to best all others. The sexes seemed to group together, which comforted Willow slightly. She, at least, could feel less obliged to be a lady's gentleman while in the presence of "other" men.

At this moment, 18 and strong, the Prince of Surrounding Northern England wanted nothing more than to run frantically away from the elaborately decorated hall with its mocking women and boasting men. The music was wonderful and she managed to recognize several pieces. The upbeat waltzes seemed to remind her of her impending danger, however, while the sonatas reminded of a destined loveless life.

Jumping with a quiet exclamation of, "Ack!" Willow turned to face the beast who had tried to attack her. She found Peter there instead, not certain whether or not to be relieved. He was the picture her had always been: quiet, eyes obverted, and patiently waiting on Willow. With an inclination of his head, Peter announced,

"It is time, Sir William, to introduce you formally to your future kingdom. They are all waiting anxiously."

Willow slithered deeper into her respite, "Absence makes the heart grow fonder?"

Peter glanced upward to her eyes with his ever dead expression, and down once more.

Willow stole a deep breath, and gave a quick nod. Assuming her well practiced pose, she walked through the curtain and into the great ballroom. A man Willow did not recognize stood at her side. When Willow was fully inside the room the mysterious man produced a horn from his jacket and proceeded to give it a sound blow. Willow started, bewildered for a moment before regaining control. Everyone around her seemed nonplused at the outburst, so she too thought nothing more of it. Composed, Willow gulped as every face in the room turned to look at her.

The horn man lowered his weapon, and Willow felt herself sigh with unexpected relief. She did not expect him to let out a great roaring sentence next. "Sir William, Prince and future King of Surrounding Northern England and following states!"

Willow fought the urge to cover her ears fitfully as the man bellowed her title. The crowd then preformed bows and curtsies in unison. Willow inclined her head, remembering her training. Thinking joyfully, "This is simpler than I had anticipated. Why worry how I will act if those acts have been designated and molded into my very instincts?" Lifting her chin in a rush of confidence, Willow made her way into the main dancing floor.

The people were free to go about their business after the initial introduction, but many women were avidly trying to catch her eye. They made attempts at bowing very low; low enough to show things that Willow recognized all too well. They would coo their names and titles into her ear, dare to glance a touch on her shoulders, arms and hands. "Such liberties there women take! As though we were already on singularly close terms..." Willow was astonished, and feared her cheeks were scandalously burning. She could see that the gentleman were, for the most part, standing aside while she received more flirtatious actions in these moments than they had in their entire lives. It was unwanted, no less! Willow realized that befriending a man well enough to have easy conversation was going to prove much more difficult than she had estimated. "They're all jealous! They despise me, and I've yet to say a single word!"

She knew that the next step was, of course, to do just that: befriend and charm a host of gentlemen. It would not do for her to shamelessly dwell amongst the doting females. Making her way to a group of young men, Willow heard the comments of the ladies that she had left in her wake. At first she didn't know who they were referring to, but when she looked towards them; their eyes were all on her. She heard such things as, "So handsome!...Charming!...Do I but dream?" These women were in varying ages, some as much as twenty years her senior to just old enough to hold a tea cup. "He has just touched my glove! Shall I never wash it!" She had to find a more reasonable environment. To Willow, it was as though she were being revealed a god in their presence. The feeling was undoubtedly novel, but unwanted all the same.

As she approached the men, she felt safer; she knew that for a woman to announce herself into the presence of several gentlemen with no gentleman escort would be disgraceful. And the accompanied gentleman would be shamed if the woman made any advance toward any other male.

Straightening her doublet, she cleared her throat for its deepening properties and joined the circle. A comment with some humor had just been made and the lot of the circle began to laugh gently, careful not to disturb the precarious hair styles. Willow chuckle in suit, not hearing what was said, but certain that it would include her in the group. Unfortunately, she was right. All men turned toward her. The man who seemed to have control of this gathering laughed quietly to himself while looking her up and down with a sniff of distaste. He posed of the prince, "Besides the obvious, 'my lord', why is it that they did not see fit to produce you until this time?"

Several men in the group laughed, keeping their faces away from the prince. So that's his game, Willow thought lightly. Smiling secretly, Willow looked up calmly. "They say that one learns from one's own environment, taking each individual attribute to be its own. They simply did not want to expose me to the less..." it was her turn to look the man over, "savory aspects of society until absolutely necessary." Looking confused for a moment, she continued before leaving, "Well, gentlemen, do excuse me, it seems I was mistaken. I was under the impression that this ball was not to be host to cull-children. Please, continue as you were, and I'll be on my way. See that you're home by a reasonable hour?" Turning on her heal, smile in place, she headed toward a table with various eatery.

Muttering to herself, Willow reprimanded her irresponsible display of vengeance. A slight touch to her shoulder brought her to the present. Surely it was Peter, telling her what nonsense that was. As she turned, however, she saw instead a tall, smiling gentleman of no more than twenty. He seemed very amused with sandy brown hair and almost dog-like sincerity in his eyes. Bowing slightly, he introduced himself, "Sir William, may I distinguish myself in your company. I am Lord Riley of Stockton. I was very eager to meet you, and after that display," he inclined his head towards the fuming gathering of men over his shoulder, "I know why." His eyes were alive, he truly found it amusing.

Instantly warming, Willow laughed and encouraged his to do the same. Taking a breath, she said, "Well. You know me it seems, but I am William none the less."

"I should say not. I never would have thought any one capable of humor in this kingdom of rigidity. If you will excuse me, your lordship, all here seem so staunch." He looked uncertain at first, not sure what the royal’s answer would be.

"Lord Riley, I am greatly indebted to you!" Willow said as she clasped a flute with champagne bubbling inside.

"My Lord?" Riley asked, brow furrowed in confusion.

"I assumed that no one shared my views here, and was fully expecting the treatment that you witnessed, all of this night." Handing him a glass, which he took distractedly, she continued, "and please, do call me William."

They had begun to walk. The center of the room served as dancing space, but a good portion of the guests were to the side chatting and drinking merrily. Willow was draining her first flute and reaching for a second when she noticed Riley's own glass remained untouched.

"Do you not drink, Lord Riley?" Willow asked slightly embarrassed at her own alcohol consumption.

"Oh, yes, if I am to call you William, you must refer to me as Finn. All of my companions do. And while I do enjoy a good brandy, even a wine now and then, champagne is rather horrid in my opinion." He made a face and lengthened the distance from the glass to himself by placing the offending article onto a passing waiter's tray.

Curious, Willow probed, "Why do your companions call you 'Fin', If I may ask?"

"Ah, that. It is a rather long and painful story of my part. Pertaining much to my distaste for champagne. I shall save it for a time when we have both become too intoxicated to care about pride of propriety." Riley sighed, smiling almost regretful, but in all good humor.

Willow was intrigued, and realized that he could very well become a wonderful friend. Maybe he would even understand her friendship with Xander? No. Undoubtedly, he had been trained from birth to refrain from the befriending of hired help. The thought of Xander reminded her that he was at this very gathering. "I should at least try to find him..." she mused to herself while glancing around. Riley, noticing the search, piped up.

"Do you know anyone in attendance this evening, Lord William?"

Willow, realizing that she had been caught, faltered, "Y-yes. I do."

Surprised, Riley raised his brows, the same suggestion of a smile on his face. He seemed to wear the expression endlessly. "I was of the impression that you were a fresh face in society. Tell me, who is it that you are acquainted with?"

Willow was about to opt for claiming that she truly knew no one, when she caught sight of, "Giles!" she exclaimed, her gaze directed towards a group of distinguished tutors. Her outburst grabbed the attention of a few nearby guests who looked on with dissatisfaction.

"Giles?" Riley repeated.

Willow explained, "Giles is my best tutor. He really is wonderful. Of course, you are right. I'm very new and I'm afraid I know not a soul outside of the components of my residence." Still looking in the direction where Giles stood, she failed to notice the frown that creased her company's brow.

Then, as Willow's gaze returned, Riley replaced his expression to that of a nervous smile. "You know me." His smile faltered, but remained genuine.

"Oh blast!" Turning, Willow saw a group of older gentlemen advancing towards her line of sight. Looking to Riley, she explained herself, "I do apologize. How terribly rude of me. You see, I have noted more than a few fellows whom I have no wish to make contact with. They seem to be heading this way."

His query met, Riley's smile returned. Before Willow could react, he scooped up her arm, a "not a problem," uttered with excitedly hushed tones. They walked through the crowd purposefully, surprisingly drawing few stares.

Once they had successfully evaded, Riley circled to face Willow. "And now, Your Highness, you are once again safe." He bowed for the dramatic effect ending his daring show of character.

Willow caught her breath from the excitement. She wondered what it meant for Riley to have taken her arm as he did. True, for men of society to brace each other was not uncommon. But surely, a man below the station of the other would not dare to do such a thing. It was the man with higher station who commanded the discussions, who directed the proceedings. It did not offend her in the least, merely surprised her that he thought nothing of it. Perhaps, she thought, he assumed himself the commandant considering his stature, experience and it was, after all, his plan of evasion. Riley was looking to her again. He periodically glanced around, now having recognition of those Willow wished to avoid. He seemed so eager to please. Willow decided that she was comfortable with him, and felt that she knew him well enough to judge on certain ideals. She would tell him of Xander, but only if he provided himself seen. She would not look for him, and therefore, run a chance at avoiding a scene if Riley did not approve. Yes, that would be her pla-

Willow would have finished, rather happily, with her plan, but Xander seemed to know just how to complicate things. He had just stepping into her view. Sighing, she looked to Riley and smiled, "I have someone that I'd like you to meet."

Leading the way, Willow stepped up to the table that Xander had been setting, and cleared her throat. Xander looked up with some surprise, and smiled broadly, "Why hel-" He turned to mortification. Silent, he turned back to his work with a diligence he certainly didn't possess before.

Trying to hide a smile, Willow glanced about her to ensure no one thought oddly of the incident. She then led Riley to a corner of the room, not heavily occupied, and rather dimly lit. They waited, and there Xander appeared.

"I'm very sorry, Will. I thought for sure someone was going to start yellin' and screaming. Blue in the face, is what I thought. Lucky I caught myself." His smile was becoming more confident, and Willow thought it best to introduce the two men before Xander realized his presence and made a fool of himself.

"Xander, this is my newly acquainted friend, Lord Riley. And Lord Riley, I do wish for you to meet a very dear friend of mine whom I have known for a great length of time, Xander."

Xander's fear managed to only last a second before his mouth turned to a loping and untamed grin. Certainly he was trying for charming, but all that was produced was a miserable short-coming that would never fail to endear. He bowed respectfully as he uttered, "My Lord."

Riley was more stiff than what Willow had become accustomed to, as he lightly bowed back with an equally hardened, "Friend Xander."

This was what Willow had feared. She had hoped against all that he would look past station to the undeniable good that lay in Xander. Evidentially, she had looked for something that was not there. She was about to excuse them to the party, and appologize to both men involved, when she noticed something rather unusual. Riley did not seemed displeased in the least. In fact, his face had taken on something of a lax grin as well. Looking between the two, Willow found herself between what she could only describe as an immediate attraction.
"It seems Xander is not as alone in his tastes as I had imagined."

_______________________

Any questions or comments will be well received, I'll answer them on the next update. hope you enjoyed!
mary


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