Week's end and all that. Includes Medieval CLex Part VI

[redfirecracker]

For those of you looking for more of my story, keep reading. There's a cut tag at the end for you.

So . . . the post-birthday week went fairly well. There was TGIFriday's for lunch on Wednesday -- which was actually an interesting amalgation of "Happy Birthday", "Welcome New Person", and "Good Riddance to Useless-Waste-of-Space-Person".

Now that's the way to kill birds with stones -- three different purposes, three different people, all in one fell swoop.

lucifrix took me to a place called Jones for a birthday dinner on Friday night. It was a nifty experience, and the fried chicken was absolutely wonderful -- as were the chicken-and-shrimp dumplings. It was also nice to have the chance to talk outside of work.

On Saturday night, I worked until eight at the mall, and then Amanda and I snuck off and went to dinner at a new place in the area called GoodFellas. I say "snuck off" because the management very blatantly disapproves of our friendship and has gone so far as to attempt to institute a ban on fraternization at or outside of work.

What the fuck?

We're both just salespeople, so it's not like there's some sort of favoritism thing going on. The only thing I can think of is that TPTB has discovered our nefarious plot to take over the world!!

Ahem. Got a little carried away there. Anyway, it's weird no matter how you slice it.

So, you know . . . lots of birthday goodness going on this week.

In other news, I hear that thamiris will be writing a Clark/Lex Inquisition story. Although initially I was quite excited, because I love her stories and am ceaselessly impressed by her writing skills . . . I'm quite worried about how my poor little Medieval Clex will suffer in comparison.

I mean . . . Thamiris doesn't do metaphors. She does conceits. Her similes are like monuments, her plots are never less than Biblical in length, and the quality of her themes makes the Mariana Trench look like a creekbed.

Sigh. I can't wait to read whatever she writes, and yet I am now creatively paralyzed with fear . . . mostly that nothing I could write would ever measure up, and that my story would look like a shoddy knockoff in comparison.

Maybe that's just the rabid insecurity talking.

So in a fit of some insanity, I jumped ahead in my story and wrote "The Revelation of Attraction" scene.



Clark's eyes dropped to the floor once more at the mention of marriage. Alexander's sharp eyes took note and he surmised that some village girl must have caught Clark's eye.

"What name doth she bear?" he asked.

Clark shook himself from his daze and colored. "No one."

"Ye ne can hide the truth in thy cheek. What comelych lady holds thy heart?"

"I haf nought to offer," Clark whispered shamefacedly. "It be unmeet to speak." He glanced up at Alexander and added, "Before thee thinks to dower me as ye would a woman, knowen thee I ne haf wish to marry."

Alexander frowned, for he had, indeed, been thinking of a gift of land or gold to increase Clark's prospects. "Mayhap you hatz the truth," he allowed, "an I be fond and foolish to insist. Forsooth, share thy burden and thy dream."

Clark shook his head mutely.

"Cease thy charade!" Alexander snapped, unreasonably annoyed. "Given unto me a name!"

Clark flushed and said hotly, "Do ye then command of me, lord?"

"Aye, I do," Alexander agreed. Anger at Clark's stubbornness burned low in his chest, tempered with pain at his lack of trust. "Thou art my sworn man and are to witholden naught from me. Did thou not promise as me thy liege?"

"Wouldst I keepen this to myself," Clark murmured hopelessly.

"Thy liege commands it," Alexander insisted.

"Then knowen thee this," Clark promised darkly, "Love I ne hold for thee as a vassal loves his lord, but rather as a knight does his lady."

Alexander stared, silent for once in his life.

"Now may ye banish me from thy sight, but I would ask thy mercy for those who haf had the raising of me, that thy wrath not fall upon them too strongly, nor accuse them of witchcraft ne unnatural acts, for this be mine own sin and cross to bear."

Clark knelt gracefully at Alexander's feet, his head bowed low. "My lord," he whispered, his voice more faint than Alexander had ever heard it, "I ne wisht to bringen thee shame, nor loathing of my sin, but love did fill my heart to behold thee ever."

Alexander found his tongue at last. "Thou didst desire me?" he asked, incredulous.

Clark nodded. "Verily, from the first light of the sun's rays upon thy mail."

"Pah!" Alexander scoffed. "Thou dost confuse ambition for betterment of thy station with lust for my person."

Clark's head shot up. "Ne!" he exclaimed. "Alwise, the caresses of maids haf left me lacking in response. 'Tis thee who most inflames my base desires."

"Thy swaddling drags, infant," Alexander said bitingly. Clark was young and foolish, and far too inexperienced to know what of he spoke. "Haps the sun hatz bemazed thine eyes."

"Think me innocent of sensuous pleasures, lord?" Clark asked, his voice trembling, as did the tears on his lashes. "Forsooth, wouldst I confess to thee this deadly sin, didst I not feel love for thee above all others?"

"Then my lord and father hast required it of you," Alexander responded bitterly. "An he would have me pass his tests, might he haf chosen one less comelych than thee."

Clark glanced down, shaking his dark head. "Nay, not I," he said. "I do so swear it, lord. Ask of me what thou wilt, but I beg of thee -- give me leave to prove my troth."

Alexander sighed. "What couldst cause thee harm, Clark?" he asked, not really expecting an answer. "Beaten armor doth show more damage than thy skin. Thou art hatched, no doubt, from a devil's egg, with skin impervious as any fiend's."

"Ne, dread lord!" Clark burst out, paling as Alexander spoke. "Speak not so! Hatz I been a good and faithful lamb for all of my life! By the rood, I swear it!"

"Certes," Alexander agreed, then reminded him, "but for thy sin of which thee speak only by my strongest command."

Clark bent his head again. "My lord," he mumbled, "if thou dost find my love rude and runisch as is my northeron wont, thou hast only to send me from thy side. Iwysse, I will trouble thee no more."

He made as if to rise, but Alexander's hand upon his head held him firm in place. "Clark," he began softly, "dost thou never wonder how watz I sent in shame from court?"

Soft, dark hair brushed his palm as Clark shook his head silently.

Alexander stared away, over the horizon, thinking back to the torments he had endured at the hands of his father's priests, until he would have agreed to anything to be free of them.

After six long months, they had finally declared him free of the devil that possessed him, that drove him to commit such unnatural acts against God and man.

Alexander had sworn on every saint with the blood still foaming on his lips, and signed every document with fingers still broken from the thumbscrews that he would live a chaste and godly life until such time as it came to marry for the ambition of the Luthor line.

He had healed with surprising speed, and took that for a sign from God that perhaps he had, indeed, been dispossessed of a devil, and health was his reward for cleaving to the path of righteousness.

And then a farmer's son had saved his life and smiled at him, and Alexander had been lost.

It was all too possible that Alexander's father had deliberately arranged his exile, and Clark's seductive presence, to test his wayward son.

He was stepping willingly into the trap.

Perhaps he was bewitched, or mad in truth.

And yet temptation, in such comely human form, was too beautiful to resist.

Alexander breathed deeply as he prepared to admit his most grievous sin. "'Twas for love of a Florentine prince was I cast out."

Clark held himself very still for a moment, and then bent forward and kissed his lord's feet. "An thou lovest him still," he began shakily. "An thou . . . an thou canst feel no love for me, thy devoted squire and vassal, save for the love thee bear this other, then I shalt ask no more of thee."

"Kneel up," Alexander ordered, and cursed the unsteadiness in his voice. "Nay, grovel not at my feet as though I were the Divine Himseluen!"

Clark gasped a little at the near-blasphemy and straightened abruptly, but remained kneeling.

"In faith, Clark," Alexander sighed, and lifted his hand to brush but a fingertip across a cheek as soft and dewy as a maid's. "Thou art comelokken."

"Forsooth, thou doth play me as a fool to speak me so!"

Alexander gripped Clark's chin firmly and kept his head tilted upwards, forcing those crystal green eyes to hold his gaze. "Beauteous beyond the telling," he murmured. "Strong of shoulder and of breath. More kind of soul and more deep of heart than God's own grace."

He sighed again, but a smile quirked his lips. "Ne, there be no more for it. Thou moten be one of the Host, an angel comen amongst, in comelych form of man."

Clark, predictably, blushed. "This is luftalking indeed," he whispered. "I will think me at court to hearen such."

Alexander drew his fingers through soft locks like black silk. "Dost thou wish me to play at chivalry and dalliance with thee?" he asked.

Clark dared to lean into Alexander's body, nuzzling his hip and rubbing his cheek across the lush velvet of his lord's cotehardie. "My liege, my luflych," he moaned, "I wouldst have thee teach me how best to please thee."

Alexander closed his eyes and gritted his teeth against his body's carnal urges. "Wouldst I take thee here?"

"Aye," Clark agreed roughly. "Forby, I am thine at the time and place of thy choosing, be it thy manor or the tiltyard or the street before the very Church."

Alexander could not prevent his wry chuckle. "Thou wouldst disagree, were thy father to spy thee thus, I trow," he suggested.

Clark blushed and smiled brightly. "Aye," he agreed. "But haps am I more than a little mad with love for thee."

Alexander caressed Clark's face, tracing the firm lines of brow and cheek and jaw. Clark turned into the gesture, his eyes falling shut and a tiny mewling sound escaping his throat. "Grant merci," he whispered.

Glancing down, Alexander witnessed the undeniable evidence of Clark's desire, thrusting against the poor protection of his tunic and trousers.

Alexander was the elder, and Clark's sworn liege. It was his responsibility to make certain that Clark knew the danger that this relationship would entail.

"Thou canst never speak of this," he warned. "Livest thou in silence on this subject, for thou art in the gravest peril."

Clark smiled brilliantly. "For mine immortal soul?" he asked impudently. "So the priests would say. But I would say that love such as this must surely be blessed by our Lord, for did He not make it so that we might love?"

Alexander frowned. "Perhaps He made it only that we might struggle against it, in accordance with His divine wishes."

Clark made a dismissive gesture. "And those same priests are forsworn daily, for they do commit the sin of lust with their very eyes upon the village girls. Yea, and even some haf had the tutoring of me, and haf attempted fornication upon me."

Alexander swore, long and hard. "Say unto me their names, and I will see them flayed and burned," he said through his teeth. "Thou art mine own sworn man and I wouldst protect thee above all else."

"Nay," Clark said soothingly, leaning his cheek against Alexander's hip. "Were it some time hence. Know I better now how to avoiden such traps as those a wayward priest might set for me."

"I am jealous of thee, Clark," Alexander admitted, stroking the boy's dark hair almost roughly. "Wouldst I haf thine eye for me and me alone."

Clark smiled brilliantly. "Mine eye is thine, and my heart, and my body for thy taking," he confessed softly. "Moten I tell thee over muchly?"

Alexander knelt and cupped his hands around Clark's face. "Never hast courtier nor ne lover spoken me so fair and true," he whispered. "An thou dost believe this to be love, then shalt I also believe. Forsooth, though I be racked again, will I cleave to thee above all others."

The green eyes shone, and Clark trembled beneath his touch. His hands rose to grip Alexander's wrists, and he said softly, "Knowen I that I be only little more than a squire's son, and unschooled in the ways of court and dalliance. All I haf to give thee is thine but for thy asking. Yea, should thee order me to wish you well-wed, so wouldst I drink and dance for thee."

Alexander began to speak, but Clark overrode him, his voice high-pitched and nervous. "Ask I only that thee ne nought send me hence, but to keepen me always by thy side to serven thee and to protect thee from all, even to myseluen."

"Iwysse, wouldst I never send thee forth, save on a mission of grave import," Alexander promised. "By Saint Luke do I swear it."

"Then comen thou to the mines, my lord, and shalt I showen thee the iron beast that bore me."


Other parts are in the following links:

Part I.
Part II.
Part III.

Comments

[thamiris.livejournal.com]

Maybe that's just the rabid insecurity talking.

It's crazy talk, babe, and I'm sure you realized that as soon as you hit "post." ;-) First of all, just so you know, my in-progress Inquisition story reads *nothing* like yours; you've chosen to duplicate Middle English, with some modernization, and even if my story weren't set in medieval Verona (and me with only a semester of modern Italian)I'd never have the patience to do what you've done, and quite likely not the skill. The dialogue alone gives the stories a different sense, but structually, stylistically and a whole bunch of other 'ally' words, they're dissimilar--which is good, or I'd start feeling anxious myself. ;-)

That said, I think your story's very cool, very sexy, very smart, with lots of thoughtful historical detail which appeals to the medievalist in me. I love how Lex essentially forces the admission from Clark after misunderstanding Clark's reaction to his nudity, and how Lex worries that Lionel has sent Clark as a test to see if he's living up to his torture-elicited promise of celibacy. I felt sorry for Lex here, imagining what he had to go through despite the rapid healing, and I think that your Clark, who's wonderfully gentle and sweet (although witty, too *g*) is just what he needs.

While I hate to think that I've somehow invoked even a moment's (ill-founded) anxiety on your part, I'm glad that you mentioned me because it drew my attenttion to your story. I can't wait to see where you go next!

Re:

[redfirecracker.livejournal.com]

::: gulping :::

::: blushing :::

::: stammering ::: Aw, gee . . . shucks.

Thanks for the reassurance and kind words. I was being quite a doofus, wasn't I? ( But I didn't know that you would be reading this! *g* )

One of the reasons I've been posting in LJ as I write is because I'm feeling so insecure about this tale. The difficulty level is . . . intense, to say the least, and your comments are a much-needed balm to my ego.

I'm really looking forward to reading your story, too. The brief you've given, plus Pun's description of the bunny, has me nearly salivating!

[cjandre.livejournal.com]

Just a note to say I found this thoroughly enjoyable and the whole story so far quite fascinating. I can't wait to see it as a whole!

The Middle English dialogis amazingly well done. You keep the flavor and yet make it readable. I am still trying to figure out how you performed this magic.

Wonderful stuff!

Re:

[redfirecracker.livejournal.com]

Thank you! I am so surprised -- and yet glad -- that so many people seem to be enjoying this story. Everyone's good vibes continue to inspire me!

Thanks again!

[metal-dog5.livejournal.com]

Words fail me in my attempt to tell you how brilliant I think this story is.

Re:

[redfirecracker.livejournal.com]

Thanks! I'm really glad people are enjoying this . . . and telling me so! It helps to keep the creative juices flowing.