theo. (escutcheon) wrote in emillion, |
Attending the fete had made Theo unusually anxious. Acutely aware of the raising of voices around him, or an accidental bump against his shoulder as other nobles moved past, the man glowered near the wall and made effort not to cause any sort of scene. For him, the honor of visiting the palace was not lost. He recalled the books he had read as a boy, of gallant knights proving themselves in front of the king. And while he had never had aspirations for something like the Kingsguard, he could not help but to consider his own current state. Not the stuff of any heroic tales, he reasoned, and not like the murals on the ceiling, or the sculptures of great knights and kings lining the hall. Those were legends, and he was yet just a man. Theo grumbled to himself and looked around, his attention suddenly drawn from his own tangled thoughts to a familiar young squire nearby. A casual observation, but with it his mood began to brighten. Moving his way forward in order to greet her, it was as he neared where Juliette was standing when the berserker realized what the girl must’ve been staring at. He grumbled from behind her. “Interesting, is it?” If it were possible to jump out of one’s skin with surprise, Juliette might have done it. She always forgot how softly even large fighters could move. And here she was, staring like a moonstruck girl at the men and women stationed around the hall in their sharp, identical uniforms… The expression on her face was almost guilty as she turned to face her mentor. “I… have not often been to the royal palace,” she said; the last time, she had been a child. “It is quite… impressive.” Perhaps he would allow her to leave it at that? She was very aware of her own inadequacy as compared to these elite fighters -- her in her ball gown and slippers, looking like a breakable young lady only suited for a marriage contract (even if that was the last thing that she would ever want to be). “Good evening, sir,” she said belatedly. “I am glad to see you.” If only you hadn’t caught me staring, I would be gladder. “Aye,” he said, surveying carefully what Juliette had been caught staring at. Theo tapped her shoulder in a friendly gesture without thinking--altogether gentle of him, if he had even realized as much, but the Kingsguard had his attention now. Two warriors staring back at one another, unblinking. Eventually, Theo grumbled and turned away, but as he did so and his attention drew down to the squire, a question slowly began to dawn on him. He frowned, thinking. “What think you of the Kingsguard?” The hand that had touched Juliette’s shoulder moved up to scratch at the back of Theo’s neck. He recalled their past conversations on the future, as vague and confusing as they often were. Of course, he was entirely glad to have any memories at all now, confusing or not. “Honorable fighters,” he admitted, although slightly begrudgingly (he gave the one nearest another quick scowl). “Yes,” Juliette said, glad beyond words when the staring match ended (she had almost been able to see the intensity, she fancied). “Very much so. My grandfather was one of their number.” She had more tales now of her father's side of the family than she had had prior to her relocation; the Demiels tried to pretend that Noel Coulombe and his ‘common’ ancestors didn’t exist at all. “I find them… admirable.” And becoming one of their number was a worthy aspiration, even if she feared it might always be out of her reach. She looked away finally, finding herself afraid to ask for his thoughts; the scowl had been powerful enough that she feared the answer would not be positive. |