faderift | { CLOSED } An Unexpected Engagement

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{ CLOSED } An Unexpected Engagement

WHO: Christine, Church, a rival suitor, Korrin, Araceli, Sam, and Jim
WHAT: Christine's mother plays matchmaker and the groom has come to collect his bride-to-be. And to rid her of her current beau.
WHEN: mid-Justinian
WHERE: Kirkwall
NOTES: No tag order. Just throw yourselves in as often as you want!

It's an hour before supper when an impeccably dressed man enters the Inquisition's holdings along the docks. Guillaume Thiebaut walks stiffly but with purpose, carrying a long, thin briefcase with him like a man on a mission. He stops the first person he sees to ask where one might find the man called Leonard Church. This random person doesn't know, and points the visitor along to someone else. Eventually someone has actually heard of Church, and directs Guillaume towards the Gallows. The man pales, adjusts his tasteful coral colored jacket, and offers to pay for someone to fetch the man from the island. He sets his briefcase down at his feet and waits, staring out towards the imposing group of towers, and sets his hands on his hips, turning out his foot like a true Orlesian gentleman.

But waiting is boring and his foot taps impatiently. His gaze turns shrewd as he looks about him at the members of the Inquisition. Perhaps a little more information on this man he's about to face is needed.

"I do beg your pardon. Would you happen to know a man named Leonard Church?" The first rule of battle? Know thy enemy.

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She smirks, joining Kirk in that because why not let that pompous fop know that his opponent has friends? "Usually that means someone's pregnant or ran off with someone else or they caught a disease. At least in my indirect experience...." She trails off and looks around, curious. "Do you see Christine? She can't miss this."

"You know that it's Antiva here with the duelling tradition, not Orlais. So you can blame it on them. It…" A frustrated noise comes out of her throat as her face crumples a little. How does she explain it all when it just was? When it was part of her? When this was such a part of her life for years before the sky swallowed her and her life was far less hers than it had ever been (because no life is entirely yours, the sooner you learn that lesson then the sooner you get on better in the world). When she speaks again, some of what she's told Korrin is what she's told her already but it makes more sense now, maybe, or she hopes it does. "I had a duelling master, Marjani, she was a pirate. She taught me everything about it that you can teach a person and I have her blades now because that's usually the way of it. When it's to first blood then it's about slights, usually, calling a person out but to the death is a serious challenge about a much more serious matter. Love or business deals or the future of a person's family for generations can be decided with those duels. People can challenge after for revenge. We don't hold back with these things - like I said, we pull together when the times are hard, that's our way, but we follow our passions selfishly and, well, if our blood and tears are water then we're giving ourselves back to the sea."

Obviously that doesn't matter in Orlais but she can hear Marjani telling her that, a younger Araceli who was wet behind the ears with too much passion and no technique to her, the hours of aching muscles and blood she never thought would come out of her clothes. The gritted teeth then the laughter. Araceli can't summon flames and lightning at her fingertips but she's held a blade to the hollow of a throat with her boot on a chest, soaked with sweat and shaking, and called it good and alive.

And Church, at least, will fight with true blades with a heritage and a history, with their ornate and gilded hilts to protect his hands same as hers. It gets her to laugh. Again, she's the one meant to be enjoying this most, why is she getting lost in her damned head today? "I asked if he was sure about which blade he would be fighting with."

That frustrated noise prompts a reassuring squeeze from Korrin, who listens with patient interest to Araceli speaking about her dueling master. Her eyes automatically stray to the blade her kadan bears, and the one Church is now using, seeing them with new eyes. No wonder Araceli takes such diligent care of them, as they're not only a link to her world but her former mentor as well. Such things are important, she knows, and it makes her heart ache that more can't be done for that severed connection.

That laugh provokes the return of her grin, though, as that sound is always music to her ears. "It went right over his head, didn't it. Or let me guess, it was a blade of his distinguished ancestor, Count Stuffyface. I couldn't take him seriously before, but this doesn't help. C'mon, Church, you can't be defeated by tits-on-a-hilt."

She raises her voice enough to be heard by other observers, and a few of the nearest ones chuckle and mutter to their own companions.

"Before I forget, I extended the invite to Sina. She'll think about it."

"Well I doubt this is over a disease..." That didn't make sense for this situation. "And does Christine need to see-" A pause. He didn't see why Christine would want to watch Church beat up someone from Orlais, but Korrin's previous comment suddenly nags at him.

"What were you saying about running off with someone else?" Because he doesn't think anyone is pregnant...

"You know how it goes with nobles. They arrange everything, but they still get what they want on the side. And sometimes the side-piece becomes important enough to run away for, or something like that. Read those Orlesian bodice-rippers, that's the plot in most of them. I'm not even exaggerating."

"First blood," suggests Church, because he really doesn't want to die because Christine's mom can't face reality. "Because I want him to be able to go back and explain to Lady Delacroix exactly what happened here." Sure, also that, that's the not coward answer.

Doesn't mean someone might not accidentally die. And...Araceli is deadly serious. The unfortunate thing for her is that Church does not have a big sense of honor. If he does lose, which he's thinking, yeah, he probably will, then he by no means is willing to just let Lord Fuckboy run off with his girlfriend. Nope. Not gonna happen.

He takes the latter rapier, sliding his hand around the grip. Quick and nimble. Thrusting. "That's what she said," he mumbles. "You know this isn't gonna go well, right? I hack and slash." He lifts the blade, points straight up between them both. "What are the chances he's poisoned his blade, just, y'know, on the offchance?"

Listen, you never know.

"First blood," Guillaume agrees, though his expression is quick to turn into a sneer. "And we will call the duel finished then and there. No extra stabs, you cheat." Because he fully believes Church would try. Not that the bastard is going to win anyway. Guillaume has had fencing lessons! He will win this. And then Christine will see what a sorry excuse for a partner Church is. Possible demon, loudmouth ruffian, can't even fight properly to save his claim on Christine. Pathetic.

As Araceli and Church talk in low voices, Guillaume warms up his arm, thrusting off to the side with sharp accuracy. He pauses, running his thumb over the figure of Andraste. She will be guiding his arm today. The fact that the little metal figure has an ample bosom is just a bonus.

Sometimes...well, nothing good comes from that line of thought so Araceli stops it before it even begins to take shape. Home is part of her, carried with her everywhere so all she can do is hold to that as much as she can in the end because she won't forget, she'd never forget, she can't ever be that sort of person that just lets go of where they are and where they come from because it hurts.

"There's probably a verse from the Chant he can quote to justify that, Andraste is everywhere, statues, amulets; what's a little Andraste to squeeze for good look. It isn't as if the Maker is looking to see another man fondling the image of his wife." Araceli that's some blasphemy right there but who else is around to hear it when she's dropped her voice, risen to her toes to speak it only to Korrin.

"I'll make sure there's a space for her," Araceli agrees with a nod, "but if you see her before I see her, let her know I won't be offended if she doesn't want to stay with us, the smell and sound of the docks isn't for everyone."

Christine's mother is going to face reality when Araceli Bonaventura y Castell, queensguard to her Grace Above the Waves in Castileos, head of the Naval Presence project of the Inquisition and member of their diplomacy team arrives at her door with a challenge but that day will come.

"I think he's a man of his word," she says at last after another glance over to consider it all, the walk with him paying off at last. Or maybe Araceli just wants to convince herself and Church both when this could go wrong, she's not an expert on poisons but Leliana bid her learn of them in her first training mission. "A man who would cheat and lie leaves an impression and he wouldn't carry himself the way that he has or be causing such a great fuss if he'd poisoned his blades."

Araceli draws her own as Guillaume ponces about (well, now she knows where the dog probably got the name) to do a little demonstration work herself with her other rapier.

"You don't have any real height advantage on him but he can't use being smaller against you either, that's what I do." So. Good luck and all that shit.

Korrin snickers, thoroughly enjoying Araceli's blasphemies. She may respect Andraste but that doesn't extend a lot of her followers, the ones who use her name as a cudgel to beat down anyone else. "Don't forget the belt buckles with Andraste's face on them, shoving her head between their legs every morning. Hot."

She wiggles her eyebrows, then nods at the response about Sina. "She knows. I think she and Nari are trying to decide whether or not they want to be at the alienage or not, to help the elves there. But nothing's set in stone yet, and I think I tempted her with mention of a possible rooftop garden."

"Leandra," Araceli says. Darts her eyes about to make sure because somehow this has stayed a secret because people either don't think or they don't wish to question very hard when it comes to what they see. "It isn't just the same but there's a holiness that comes with being Her Grace Above the Waves and, well, six of us in the queensguard including me in her bed, and behind a closed door we're all very much equals." You know exactly what she means Korrin, just because she doesn't show a blush as easily, you know what the other signs are with the cleared throat and looking right ahead, blowing her hair away from her face to cool her flushed cheeks.

On the one hand, a rooftop garden is good and Araceli doesn't need to trespass into the alienage more than they'd want extra humans about to check in on friends, vouched for or not. (No matter how parts of alienages are more like home, all these strange places where parts of her can fit but never actually the whole.) On the other, being near plants? "There's enough salt in me that anything Sina tries growing is going to die, or if the winds and tides whip the waves high enough."

"True, but Sina does have that Dalish plant magic. If anyone could get something out of it, she could."

It's not that Korrin isn't well-aware of what went on before Araceli's arrival by now. Of course she is, and she's accepted that as she has everything else about her rifter love. Well, she does best. As someone who decidedly doesn't share, she can't say it's always easy to hear about Araceli's bonds with that queen/her queensguard, but she knew what she was getting into when she gave Araceli that dragon tooth necklace. That was a promise to accept all of her, just as Araceli accepted her in turn. So, Korrin would never think to ask Araceli to hide her thoughts and feelings; that's not the kind of relationship she'd want them to have. She reaches up to trace a flushed cheek, Araceli able to draw her in even with a duel happening right before them.

"You know, we could just slip away afterwards. You can always get your rapier back from Church later." How can she not want to take advantage of the heightened mood that the duel provides? Hell, there should be more of them just for this alone.

"Sina should probably be saving more of her magic for herself," Araceli murmurs quietly because even if she'd recovered from the voyage at last, it's not as if Sina's health is ever going to be close to robust and using a lot of magic for things she doesn't really need to? All Araceli can see is Sina moving closer to a place none of them can follow her to.

She knows it's coming. She isn't so naive as to think that Sina will be saved but the longer she can have with her, the better. Even if Araceli sat by her in her wedding gown with flowers in her hair quietly encouraging her to break the vows she hadn't given voice to yet because duty is duty and love is love, and sometimes they go hand in hand and it's a wonderful thing but all too often they don't. Sina should be selfish like Araceli can be selfish, go follow her heart for whatever time she has it still before the shard consumes it. Maybe not the way Araceli would do it. Still, Sina should have the happiness Araceli's found here in a world that isn't hers.

Turning her cheek into Korrin's hand, she smirks. "No. I can't leave that rapier behind, it'd be cutting my arm off if I did, besides wouldn't I look strange if it was just one on my hip?" You know. One rapier on the belt. And maybe nothing else.

"I've seen you handle your blades a couple times. I think I get the picture." All of the help is welcome, but none of it is going to take the place of actual practice and learning. Church mimics a few moves, both from Araceli, and also Guillaume when he sees them out of the corner of his eye.

This is gonna go like shit. But even if (when) he loses, he's not giving up Christine. What doesn't kill him makes him stronger and all that.

"All right." He whips around and points the blade in what he hopes is a confident and dramatic fashion. He'll try not to fuck up your beloved jabber, Celi. "Let's get this show on the road; I've got actual important shit to do today than dick around with a wannabe like you."

Every moment spent in Church's company is agony for Guillaume -- literally. He's been hit twice, heard his future mother-in-law called a bitch, been insulted in numerous ways... Well! Enough is enough. This ends now. Flicking his wrist, Guillaume gets into the starting position, knees bent and his free arm lifted up dramatically in the air.

"En garde!" he cries, before lunging forward, hoping to strike Church in the shoulder. Of course, he's practically shaking with excitement and his aim might not be perfect. But that hardly matters. Like Church actually knows how to flail around with a rapier.

If only he realized that at this moment, Christine is sitting in a boat crossing the water from the Gallows.

All of this is out of her hands now, time for Araceli to step back and aside but she goes up on her tiptoes with her biggest smile because sometimes you can pass on bravado. A kiss to the cheek before the fray begins.

"You shame your teacher with that stance." A parting shot and fuck you before Christine kills all three of them.

Church has hardly ever touched a rapier, but he knows how to dodge swords. Usually they come swinging at him rather than jabbed at him. Would it be cheating to use his rift-given shield? Probably, but he's considering it.

Guillaume's overexcitement lets Church dodge the blow, knocking the offending blade aside with his own and taking up a much less dramatic, much more pragmatic stance. Waiting for the next blow, get his balance and footing better, understand the game a little better before he decides he actually knows what he's doing. Play the defensive. Maybe the asshole will tire out and leave an opening.

And no. Neither one of them knows what's coming. For the best, really.

All right, so... Church isn't a complete buffoon. Good to know. Guillaume steps back to regroup, taking note of how his opponent is watching him: readying himself. Maybe he can get Church to make a mistake. The man seems to have a fiery temper, so if Guillaume ignites it, he may mess up and lunge forward in a predictable way.

"Once Christine is my wife, she won't even remember your name. One night with me and she'll forget about you completely." You know, because of all the amazing sex he's going to have with her.

"Please, your wife? Who the hell would even marry a guy who can't even dress himself?" Church isn't used to this sort of dance, a pacing, waiting, waiting. He adjusts his grip, trying not to get baited. Guillaume seems like he's got the quicker temper, miraculously.

"With what, anyway? Whatever dinky peashooter you're packing? More like she'll forget anything's down there."

Oh, it is on. You can insult Guillaume in many ways, but to insult his clothes? How very dare you?! And then Church insults his dick. That's pretty bad too. The anger boils inside him as he shifts around, looking for an opening. He resembles a tea kettle that's about to start whistling because the water is boiling hot. No one should be surprised if steam shoots out his ears next. For a good twenty seconds, he paces back and forth like a caged animal, just out of reach of Church's rapier as his anger grows and he looks for the one misstep, that one fraction of an inch of Church that's unprotected and where he can jab in before the man can react. And finally, all at once, the floodgates collapse.

"You cretin!" he yells, lashing out at him until a voice pierces the air and startles him.

"CHURCH! What are you doing?"

Guillaume jumps at the shout and turns, seeing the horrified face of the woman who can only be Christine Delacroix because she resembles her mother that much. Fumbling for a second, Guillaume clears his throat and lowers his sword arm, not realizing he's leaving himself completely vulnerable. But this is the first time he's set eyes on Christine, and the first time she's seeing him, so he wants to make a good first impression. Maker, is he sweating? He doesn't want her to see him perspire. And what about his bruised jaw? Is it swelling badly? Will she notice?

"Ah, Mademoiselle Delacroix! I did not expect--" But his voice dies away as she turns her eyes from Church to him and her expression of worry is replaced with one of furious anger.

Uh oh.

Not terribly unlike a dog that's been caught doing something it knows it shouldn't be doing, Church reacts to Christine's bellow with a wince, shoulders hunching up and looking terribly guilty at the unexpected arrival. Guillaume is, however, distracted and making a total fucking ass of himself. There are a few moments where both men are clearly waiting for the fury and might of ten thousand suns to roast them alive.

...But Church takes the opportunity presented to him and moves in, sticking the point of the rapier into Guillaume's shoulder. Triumph!

"I'm winning a duel, apparently!"

"AHH! Merde!" Guillaume yells out, dropping his rapier and clasping the wound with his other hand. It's not a life-threatening stab wound by any stretch of the imagination, but you can bet he's going to milk it for all it's worth. "Cheater! I was distracted." There's a pause as he tries to spin this into a positive thing by looking at Christine with an amazed expression. "By your beauty, of course."

The result is not what he'd call favorable, as she gives him an icy glare and growls out, "Move," before advancing on him. He yelps, skitters back, and then quickly retrieves his rapier before she has a chance to kick it away. Breezing past him, she moves in front of Church, expression less hostile, but still far from pleased.

"You were dueling? You could have been killed! Are you hurt?" Her hands reach out, brushing over his chest, looking for any spot of blood. Then she cups his cheeks, unsure if she wants to be furious or relieved.

"What would possess you to get into a duel?" Of course, as soon as she says it, she notices Araceli there and her eyes narrow. "Did she put you up to this?" There is little Araceli could do to cause Christine to get really angry with her, but putting Church's life on the line would be one of them. She doesn't yet know that the duel was to first blood only, since she's more concerned over her partner not being killed than registering that Church said he won.

Edited 2017-07-21 20:23 (UTC)

"I'm fi--Chris, I'm fine, I swear, I promise." Araceli, please, please take your blade away because now he doesn't know what to do with it but hold it out of the way. "It was this chucklefuck. Your mom sent him. So I beat him up and stabbed him so he'll go the fuck away."

That's...not necessarily wrong...

Unfortunately, hearing he's fine and believing he's fine are two separate things in Christine's mind, so she continues to fuss for a moment more before things are explained and she turns back to look at this "chucklefuck." He's sulking not far away, rapier dropped back into its case. Andraste's ample bosom failed him today. However, he takes note that Church is calling him names again, and he rushes to pull a letter from his jacket pocket, still draped across the barrel top.

"Please, if you would," he begins, wincing as he holds out his arm to her. (Maker's breath, she's a healer. Isn't she going to heal him already?) "This letter from your mother will explain my purpose in coming here."

Looking skeptical, Christine takes the letter, because she is curious what her mother has to say. Almost immediately, her eyebrows shoot up and she lets out a scoffing sound, but the further on she reads, the more her expression shifts until she looks up at Guillaume with a surprised look. "Is this true? You would let my mother live with us?" Not that she's considering it! It's just... very nice, is all. She can't visit her mother right now, and can't set her on the long journey to Kirkwall to live with her daughter here either. It's a neat little solution.

Guillaume perks up. After all, even though he lost the duel, the final decision lies with Christine, right? "But of course! I would be honored to have her."

For a moment, Christine might look like she's actually considering her mother's plan, as there's something calculating in her gaze. But when she speaks, it's far from a Yes, I'll marry you.

"Were you dueling for my hand in marriage? As if I was an object?"

A droplet of sweat runs down Guillaume's forehead. Busted.

Now she turns back to Church. "You were not doing that, were you?" She doesn't want to believe he'd think of her as his property. But then why did he agree?

"Listen, hey, I was just going to ignore him, but then he slapped me with a glove. ...And, okay, yes, then the rest from there was egged on by Araceli." Sorry, bro, but it's the truth. "Besides, then he would've gloated and called it a forfeit or something. You guys have, like, rules here about dueling for honor and crap. Also, yes, he definitely was treating you like an object. And that can't stand. You're not a prize to be won."

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{ CLOSED } An Unexpected Engagement

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no one get excited, i have no cheek kiss icons

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