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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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.

"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."

Oh, no, Church got the official duel-starting glove slap and Christine kind of looks like she wants to slap Guillaume in retaliation for it. In response, he's squirming under her narrowed gaze, looking for an escape route. Really, isn't being punched, struck with a gauntlet, and stabbed enough by now?

"That is exactly right," she says, staring Guillaume down. "I am mine before I am ever anybody else's." Then she turns back to Church, kissing him on the lips to show this stuck up asshole that he's well and truly lost. "Thank you," she says softly on breaking the kiss. "For dueling for my honor."

There's a part of her that wants to give Araceli a talking to, in that overbearing, mothering way that Christine has, but Church defending her has her heart all a flutter and she might actually forget to confront Araceli in the wake of all this.

He's always left with a grin when Christine is around, moreso when she kisses him. Now there's an extra bit of fucking sass to the look because take that fancy-pants motherfucker. "Any time." And he means it. He'll duel a hundred assholes for her if it needs to happen. Really hoping it doesn't, though.

In fact, he wraps his arms down low around her and hefts her up above the heads of the crowd, giving them a spin. "Look at my badass girlfriend! She's so pretty and cool and amazing!!"

Things Leonard Church is not above in the slightest: rubbing a win in someone's face.

This is just excessive, now. Guillaume is already pissed off that he lost, but this rubbing it in his face is too far. Unfortunately, with the duel over, if he attacks Church around this growing crowd of onlookers, they may break it up. So he does what any spoiled, Orlesian asshole would do. He stomps his foot angrily and marches over to his things to collect them.

Christine, meanwhile, lets out a little shriek of surprise and plants her hands on Church's shoulders as he spins them. "Church! Put me down!" However, her attempt at sternness is ruined by the laugh that escapes her after the last word. She always strives to look professional and mature beyond her years, but she can't be mad when Church is complementing her this much and is also happy himself. "You silly man," she says fondly.

Guillaume stomps back over, rapier case carried with his uninjured arm and jacket draped over the crook of his elbow. He needs to go find a decent healer because it looks like Christine is just going to ignore his injury!

"Your mother will hear of this, you know!" Probably not the best move, since he's already terrified Christine will light him on fire, but that stupid flare of anger within him means he isn't thinking things through before saying them.

From her perch hoisted in the air, Christine glares, and pats Church's shoulders. "No, really do put me down now, Church." She's about to put the fear of the Maker into Guillaume.

Damn right he's putting her down. Reluctantly, though. He needs everyone to know it's reluctant, even if it's so she can kick ass.

"Hey man, word of advice, I'd start running."

Like Guillaume is going to take advice from-- Oh, she is marching right on up to him, isn't she? Yes, yes that's close enough. He leans back a little, eyes widening as Christine points at him like her finger might start shooting out lightning any second.

"The only thing you will tell my mother is that I am sorry if she misunderstood the circumstances here, but I am very happy and have no plans to leave the Inquisition to marry you or anyone else. And if I hear that you have told her anything that has upset her in any way--" Taking a step back, Christine lifts the empty hilt from her belt and holds it up. Guillaume's face contorts with confusion for a second before a long, shimmering white-gold light rushes up from the hilt to create a spirit blade. Then his knees knock together and he realizes that Church was right when he said to run.

"I will give you a matching scar on the other shoulder."

Now shaking, Guillaume dips his head and shuffles back. He thinks if he forces his knees apart right now that he may wet himself, so this will have to do.

"I will, ah, say you are happy here, Mademoiselle. A good day to you." He keeps shuffling back until he thinks he's regained control of his bladder, then turns and quickly speed walks down the docks, looking for the exit gate back into the city. Christine sighs, forehead creased with worry. Despite her mother's interference, she doesn't want her hearing anything that might cause her health to worsen. Guillaume better makes things sound good here.

Retracting her blade, she puts the hilt back on her belt, watching him disappear. "It is my own fault, really. I should not have written to my mother that Kirkwall made me so unhappy." She looks over at Church. "There are some things that make it bearable."

"Hey. Kirkwall's just a city. A city with, apparently, a shitload of bad history, but it's just a city." He wraps his arms around her. "I could be happy just about anywhere with you. Hope I can make you feel the same way. And if I have to sword fight more fancy-pants assholes to keep it that way, I'll do it. I won't be happy doing it, because I kinda have a thing against dying more than I have to, but I'll totally do it."

The people who had gathered to watch the duel are now dispersing, chuckling as they make fun of the retreating Orlesian fancy pants. This area of the docks is now becoming a more private place, which is good, because there's a degree of embarrassment here for Christine for having been the subject of a duel.

"I know," she says, sinking into his embrace with a sigh and hands splayed across his back. "But with its history and the weak Veil... you know how I have been." Her voice lowers, as if there is still anyone close enough to overhear. "You have seen my tears. And you have wiped them away. Every day I accept this place a little more because I return to my home with you. You do make me happy, even in Kirkwall." She smiles, but it's tinged with worry. "No more duels, my silly man. I have a thing against you dying as well. I would go so far as to say you are forbidden from doing it."

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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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