Fic: A Woman's Heart
Title: A Woman’s Heart
Author: katyscarlett76
Rating & Warnings: PG
Characters/ Pairing: Betriz, Cazaril/Betriz
Prompts:
Take heed of loving me ;
At least remember, I forbade it thee ;
...
Then, lest thy love by my death frustrate be,
If thou love me, take heed of loving me.
The Prohibition
Bastard
Blanket
Format & Word Count: Fic, 2,191 words
Summary: Events in Cardegoss are a turning point for Lady Betriz and give her an insight into her own heart.
Author’s Notes: My first attempt at a full Chalion fic, I’m not sure I’ve achieved what I wanted with this piece but I hope you enjoy it anyway. Skating close to the (extended)deadline as always so this unbetaed, all and any mistakes are mine alone.
A Woman’s Heart
As a young girl Lady Betriz had always longed to go to Cardegoss, to see the spectacle of Court and dance with handsome Lords was all she had desired. So she looked on the call of the Royse and Royesse to Court with excitement almost as much as Royesse Iselle did herself. However the more stoic acceptance of Lord dy Cazaril and the hint of fear behind his eyes tempered her excitement somewhat. That there may be something to fear from Court had not been something she had considered but Lord Caz’s tuition had taught her more than facts and figures. Both Iselle and herself had learnt something of politics and not taking people’s motives at face value. She hoped that she was no longer so nieve to think that all in Court would be as open-hearted as herself, but she wanted to still believe in the majesty. She hoped that they would be happy there and that there would be enough handsome young Lords to dance with.
Their arrival in Court had been everything she’d hoped it would be. There were dances and handsome Lords. Iselle was adored and as her faithful handmaiden Betriz had a special place all her own. Everyone wanted to know them and every Lord wanted to dance with them. The first few weeks were joyous and Betriz felt all her dreams were coming true. But as she became accustomed to the Court ways she began to notice the factions and the gossiping. She noticed too that certain lords were more forceful in the dance and more aggressive in their flirtations. She soon worked out who to avoid and who to encourage with a smile. However there was one lord who proved hard to avoid. Lord Dondo was blatant in his attempts at flirtation and during dances his hands were forceful. As his attentions to her increased, she began to feel afraid. He was not at all the man she wished to be paying her attention and she was concerned at the direction it was taking. In comparison to the men she truly admired, her father and Lord Cazaril, Dondo was greasy, loud and boorish. He was not anything like the man she had envisaged as her future husband. She was also aware of how difficult he could make her life if she had to refuse him directly. She did everything in her power to show him that his attention were unwelcome, but this only served to make him more determined and she began to despair. She confided her worries to Iselle and between them they conspired to play a trick on Dondo that they hoped would teach him a lesson. It was only later that they realised the full consequences of their actions.
The night before Royesse Iselle’s prospective wedding to Lord Dondo, Betriz was full of pure despair at their situation and melancholy at the disappearance of all her childhood dreams. This, she felt, was the night she truly became a woman, with a woman’s trials and responsibilities. As well as bearing her own pain and trying to relieve Iselle’s, Betriz felt a heartbreak at the thought of Lord Cazaril. Their last conversation that evening had had the feel of one with a condemned man and Betriz feared she may never see him again. Whether that be through his downfall or her own. For she truly intended, if Iselle was forced to go through with this grotesque marriage, to carry out her own assassination on Lord Dondo before he could lay his dirty hands on Iselle’s purity. She knew that would be the end of her and part of her didn’t care. Another part did not want to disappoint Cazaril and she felt he would be disappointed in her. There was also her father to think of and the position would she be placing him in. To be the father of Lord Dondo’s Murderer would mean more than emotional distress to him.
But mostly her disturbed thoughts centred on Iselle and Cazaril, the two centres of her world at Cardegoss. She adored Iselle as a sister, but Cazaril. Well she realised, she didn’t love him as a brother, or any other kind of relation. The pure dread she felt for his position stemmed from a far deeper part of her heart. She loved him, as a wife loves her husband, and she didn’t want to be anyone else’s wife. The realisation startled her, she knew her affection for Cazaril had grown over the months but it was not until that moment that she realised its depth. His promoting the March dy Palliar to her as a prospective husband had stung. The March was, she acknowledged, a handsome and charming man, he would make a fine husband. Indeed he was the kind of husband she had once dreamt of. But now her heart belonged so completely to Cazaril that to contemplate another man felt like treason. That brought her thoughts back to their conversation, it had felt like saying goodbye, as if he did not expect to see her again. She was afraid at what he might attempt but also proud at his determination to protect Iselle.
She touched her lips lightly with her finger reliving the pressure of his lips on hers and the tickle of his beard against her cheek. The kiss had been intense and had made her head spin. For all her romantic daydreaming she’d never dreamt it could feel like that. He’d taken her by surprise, her thoughts had been centred on their desperate situation and the seeming finality of their conversation, but that did not mean it was unwelcome. She’d long dreamt of her first kiss as a romantic affair, in a courtyard under moonlight or at a picnic in the woods on a bright spring day. But now it had happened she couldn’t think of a more romantic setting than a dark chamber on a desperate night with a man who she trusted completely. To be kissed by Lord Cazaril had been the subject of her daydreams for a while. At first it was just as she wondered other men of her acquaintance, but since coming to Court, and particularly since becoming under the attention of Lord Dondo, her dreams had centred more on him. Until that night she had seen her daydreams as a silly crush, something that would never happen. Until the moment he had kissed her and she had felt all the emotions he usually withheld expressed within his kiss. In their most desperate hour she felt a calm certainty that Cazaril loved her and that thought gave her the strength to support Iselle through the difficult night.
Throughout the night she watched over Iselle deep in prayer and prayed herself for Iselle’s release and for Cazaril’s safety. She also wondered at their previous naive actions. The Lady Pig episode had been enjoyable and had stopped Dondo’s attentions to herself, but now it was clear that all it had done was to shift his attention from herself to Iselle. If she had succumbed to his seduction would he even be attempting Iselle. Knowing what she knew now she half wished to send herself back in time and allow him to seduce her, what was her virtue to Iselle’s. The thought made her ill and the imagined look on Cazaril’s face if he found out would have hurt her, but to protect Iselle would she have endured it. Offering herself to Dondo now would be useless, Iselle was a greater prize and one he would be unlikely to relinquish for a mere lady. Still, if she thought it would help then she would have done so.
As the morning dawned Betriz’s heart thumped in her chest unsure of what the day might bring. If Dondo had died then they would be released but that might mean they had lost Cazaril. She did not want to think about that. If Dondo was alive, would she have the strength to commit murder. Just as the thoughts started swirling in her mind a noise in Cazaril’s office drew her attention. Nan appeared to be arguing with what sounded like the elder dy Jironal. Betriz left Iselle’s side afraid of what she was to find. Dy Jironal was angry but Betriz was so relieved to spot Cazaril, looking pale but alive in the back, that she hardly heard that was said. The next thing she knew Iselle had forced her way forward, words were exchanged and dy Jironal left in a fury. Betriz’s eyes had never left the form of Cazaril. After the realisation of her feelings it was like she was seeing him anew. She wanted to throw her arms around him but was unsure of her welcome and knew it was inappropriate in front of the Royesse.
When Cazaril informed them of Dondo’s fate, Betriz felt a weight lift off her shoulders. Dondo could no longer terrorise Iselle or herself. As she moved closer to Caz she observed his counternance and was disturbed by what she saw. He looked so pale and ill. She had felt sure that he had attempted Death Magic that night and, just as she felt relief at not having lost him to the Bastard’s Demon, she felt anxiety that he was truly ill. She ordered him to bed. A little later she crept into his chamber to check on him and was even more concerned. When he admitted that he hadn’t eaten since the previous morning, she felt his clammy forehead and took measures into her own hands. She ordered new blankets, a servant to help him wash and a bowl of warm bread and milk. She sat and fed him herself, loving the feeling of taking care of him whilst remaining anxious at his ill health. Their conversation disturbed her, especially the idea he could have died in the tower and been eaten by crows. She was almost in tears at what he had been reduced in order to save Iselle and to protect them from his actions. And they wouldn’t have even been able to mourn him properly.
His distance over the next few days and his reluctance to kiss her again made her begin to wonder if she had imagined the passion in his kiss or whether it was just a sign of a man preparing to die rather than a symbol of his feelings for her. But whenever he looked at her she could see his love for her in his eyes and she was reassured. He loved her, and someday he would tell her so. Maybe that would be when they had resolved Iselle’s situation and so she was determined to be patient. However, she could not change or control her own emotions. Her duties to Iselle consumed her time but not her thoughts and all she really wanted to do was take care of Cazaril. Teidez’s death left both Betriz and Iselle distraught and it felt as though events were spiralling out of control. This feeling doubled when Cazaril revealed the true nature of his illness. Betriz had never felt such terror or such pride, for what he had to endure and for his devotion to Iselle. Likening his condition to pregnancy was her way of trying to accept the situation and to reassure herself that he could survive. She saw in his eyes that he feared she looked at him differently and she wished that she could express to him that, although she was in horror at the situation, it did not change her love for him. If anything it made more in awe of him and worry that she was not worthy to be his wife.
When Cazaril agreed to become Iselle’s Ambassador to the Fox of Ibra, she knew she would worry about him constantly. It was not just his health that concerned her, but also whether assassins would attack him on route. She was afraid that one way or another he may never be returned to her. There was nothing she could do except request his companions watch over him. Her words with the dy Gura brothers were strong and insistent, they would take care of him, they would watch out for him and they would return him to her in as close to one piece as they could manage. She saw them look over at Cazaril. Their astonishment that such a pale and unremarkable man could inspire such passion in a lady was clear. The flash in her eyes was that of a woman in love and they somehow knew she was to be obeyed. She gave him her hat, not just as a means of keeping him warm but also as a talisman, a symbol that her heart went with him and a hope that it would protect him. As soon as they left the castle walls she ran up to the highest window she could find in an attempt to track their movements as far as she could and send a wish to the gods for their safe passage. Somehow she knew when they met again, everything would have changed.
The End
Author: katyscarlett76
Rating & Warnings: PG
Characters/ Pairing: Betriz, Cazaril/Betriz
Prompts:
Take heed of loving me ;
At least remember, I forbade it thee ;
...
Then, lest thy love by my death frustrate be,
If thou love me, take heed of loving me.
The Prohibition
Bastard
Blanket
Format & Word Count: Fic, 2,191 words
Summary: Events in Cardegoss are a turning point for Lady Betriz and give her an insight into her own heart.
Author’s Notes: My first attempt at a full Chalion fic, I’m not sure I’ve achieved what I wanted with this piece but I hope you enjoy it anyway. Skating close to the (extended)deadline as always so this unbetaed, all and any mistakes are mine alone.
A Woman’s Heart
As a young girl Lady Betriz had always longed to go to Cardegoss, to see the spectacle of Court and dance with handsome Lords was all she had desired. So she looked on the call of the Royse and Royesse to Court with excitement almost as much as Royesse Iselle did herself. However the more stoic acceptance of Lord dy Cazaril and the hint of fear behind his eyes tempered her excitement somewhat. That there may be something to fear from Court had not been something she had considered but Lord Caz’s tuition had taught her more than facts and figures. Both Iselle and herself had learnt something of politics and not taking people’s motives at face value. She hoped that she was no longer so nieve to think that all in Court would be as open-hearted as herself, but she wanted to still believe in the majesty. She hoped that they would be happy there and that there would be enough handsome young Lords to dance with.
Their arrival in Court had been everything she’d hoped it would be. There were dances and handsome Lords. Iselle was adored and as her faithful handmaiden Betriz had a special place all her own. Everyone wanted to know them and every Lord wanted to dance with them. The first few weeks were joyous and Betriz felt all her dreams were coming true. But as she became accustomed to the Court ways she began to notice the factions and the gossiping. She noticed too that certain lords were more forceful in the dance and more aggressive in their flirtations. She soon worked out who to avoid and who to encourage with a smile. However there was one lord who proved hard to avoid. Lord Dondo was blatant in his attempts at flirtation and during dances his hands were forceful. As his attentions to her increased, she began to feel afraid. He was not at all the man she wished to be paying her attention and she was concerned at the direction it was taking. In comparison to the men she truly admired, her father and Lord Cazaril, Dondo was greasy, loud and boorish. He was not anything like the man she had envisaged as her future husband. She was also aware of how difficult he could make her life if she had to refuse him directly. She did everything in her power to show him that his attention were unwelcome, but this only served to make him more determined and she began to despair. She confided her worries to Iselle and between them they conspired to play a trick on Dondo that they hoped would teach him a lesson. It was only later that they realised the full consequences of their actions.
The night before Royesse Iselle’s prospective wedding to Lord Dondo, Betriz was full of pure despair at their situation and melancholy at the disappearance of all her childhood dreams. This, she felt, was the night she truly became a woman, with a woman’s trials and responsibilities. As well as bearing her own pain and trying to relieve Iselle’s, Betriz felt a heartbreak at the thought of Lord Cazaril. Their last conversation that evening had had the feel of one with a condemned man and Betriz feared she may never see him again. Whether that be through his downfall or her own. For she truly intended, if Iselle was forced to go through with this grotesque marriage, to carry out her own assassination on Lord Dondo before he could lay his dirty hands on Iselle’s purity. She knew that would be the end of her and part of her didn’t care. Another part did not want to disappoint Cazaril and she felt he would be disappointed in her. There was also her father to think of and the position would she be placing him in. To be the father of Lord Dondo’s Murderer would mean more than emotional distress to him.
But mostly her disturbed thoughts centred on Iselle and Cazaril, the two centres of her world at Cardegoss. She adored Iselle as a sister, but Cazaril. Well she realised, she didn’t love him as a brother, or any other kind of relation. The pure dread she felt for his position stemmed from a far deeper part of her heart. She loved him, as a wife loves her husband, and she didn’t want to be anyone else’s wife. The realisation startled her, she knew her affection for Cazaril had grown over the months but it was not until that moment that she realised its depth. His promoting the March dy Palliar to her as a prospective husband had stung. The March was, she acknowledged, a handsome and charming man, he would make a fine husband. Indeed he was the kind of husband she had once dreamt of. But now her heart belonged so completely to Cazaril that to contemplate another man felt like treason. That brought her thoughts back to their conversation, it had felt like saying goodbye, as if he did not expect to see her again. She was afraid at what he might attempt but also proud at his determination to protect Iselle.
She touched her lips lightly with her finger reliving the pressure of his lips on hers and the tickle of his beard against her cheek. The kiss had been intense and had made her head spin. For all her romantic daydreaming she’d never dreamt it could feel like that. He’d taken her by surprise, her thoughts had been centred on their desperate situation and the seeming finality of their conversation, but that did not mean it was unwelcome. She’d long dreamt of her first kiss as a romantic affair, in a courtyard under moonlight or at a picnic in the woods on a bright spring day. But now it had happened she couldn’t think of a more romantic setting than a dark chamber on a desperate night with a man who she trusted completely. To be kissed by Lord Cazaril had been the subject of her daydreams for a while. At first it was just as she wondered other men of her acquaintance, but since coming to Court, and particularly since becoming under the attention of Lord Dondo, her dreams had centred more on him. Until that night she had seen her daydreams as a silly crush, something that would never happen. Until the moment he had kissed her and she had felt all the emotions he usually withheld expressed within his kiss. In their most desperate hour she felt a calm certainty that Cazaril loved her and that thought gave her the strength to support Iselle through the difficult night.
Throughout the night she watched over Iselle deep in prayer and prayed herself for Iselle’s release and for Cazaril’s safety. She also wondered at their previous naive actions. The Lady Pig episode had been enjoyable and had stopped Dondo’s attentions to herself, but now it was clear that all it had done was to shift his attention from herself to Iselle. If she had succumbed to his seduction would he even be attempting Iselle. Knowing what she knew now she half wished to send herself back in time and allow him to seduce her, what was her virtue to Iselle’s. The thought made her ill and the imagined look on Cazaril’s face if he found out would have hurt her, but to protect Iselle would she have endured it. Offering herself to Dondo now would be useless, Iselle was a greater prize and one he would be unlikely to relinquish for a mere lady. Still, if she thought it would help then she would have done so.
As the morning dawned Betriz’s heart thumped in her chest unsure of what the day might bring. If Dondo had died then they would be released but that might mean they had lost Cazaril. She did not want to think about that. If Dondo was alive, would she have the strength to commit murder. Just as the thoughts started swirling in her mind a noise in Cazaril’s office drew her attention. Nan appeared to be arguing with what sounded like the elder dy Jironal. Betriz left Iselle’s side afraid of what she was to find. Dy Jironal was angry but Betriz was so relieved to spot Cazaril, looking pale but alive in the back, that she hardly heard that was said. The next thing she knew Iselle had forced her way forward, words were exchanged and dy Jironal left in a fury. Betriz’s eyes had never left the form of Cazaril. After the realisation of her feelings it was like she was seeing him anew. She wanted to throw her arms around him but was unsure of her welcome and knew it was inappropriate in front of the Royesse.
When Cazaril informed them of Dondo’s fate, Betriz felt a weight lift off her shoulders. Dondo could no longer terrorise Iselle or herself. As she moved closer to Caz she observed his counternance and was disturbed by what she saw. He looked so pale and ill. She had felt sure that he had attempted Death Magic that night and, just as she felt relief at not having lost him to the Bastard’s Demon, she felt anxiety that he was truly ill. She ordered him to bed. A little later she crept into his chamber to check on him and was even more concerned. When he admitted that he hadn’t eaten since the previous morning, she felt his clammy forehead and took measures into her own hands. She ordered new blankets, a servant to help him wash and a bowl of warm bread and milk. She sat and fed him herself, loving the feeling of taking care of him whilst remaining anxious at his ill health. Their conversation disturbed her, especially the idea he could have died in the tower and been eaten by crows. She was almost in tears at what he had been reduced in order to save Iselle and to protect them from his actions. And they wouldn’t have even been able to mourn him properly.
His distance over the next few days and his reluctance to kiss her again made her begin to wonder if she had imagined the passion in his kiss or whether it was just a sign of a man preparing to die rather than a symbol of his feelings for her. But whenever he looked at her she could see his love for her in his eyes and she was reassured. He loved her, and someday he would tell her so. Maybe that would be when they had resolved Iselle’s situation and so she was determined to be patient. However, she could not change or control her own emotions. Her duties to Iselle consumed her time but not her thoughts and all she really wanted to do was take care of Cazaril. Teidez’s death left both Betriz and Iselle distraught and it felt as though events were spiralling out of control. This feeling doubled when Cazaril revealed the true nature of his illness. Betriz had never felt such terror or such pride, for what he had to endure and for his devotion to Iselle. Likening his condition to pregnancy was her way of trying to accept the situation and to reassure herself that he could survive. She saw in his eyes that he feared she looked at him differently and she wished that she could express to him that, although she was in horror at the situation, it did not change her love for him. If anything it made more in awe of him and worry that she was not worthy to be his wife.
When Cazaril agreed to become Iselle’s Ambassador to the Fox of Ibra, she knew she would worry about him constantly. It was not just his health that concerned her, but also whether assassins would attack him on route. She was afraid that one way or another he may never be returned to her. There was nothing she could do except request his companions watch over him. Her words with the dy Gura brothers were strong and insistent, they would take care of him, they would watch out for him and they would return him to her in as close to one piece as they could manage. She saw them look over at Cazaril. Their astonishment that such a pale and unremarkable man could inspire such passion in a lady was clear. The flash in her eyes was that of a woman in love and they somehow knew she was to be obeyed. She gave him her hat, not just as a means of keeping him warm but also as a talisman, a symbol that her heart went with him and a hope that it would protect him. As soon as they left the castle walls she ran up to the highest window she could find in an attempt to track their movements as far as she could and send a wish to the gods for their safe passage. Somehow she knew when they met again, everything would have changed.
The End