Love in Perlaedon

[Lief Erikson]

*This particular short story I wrote I'm almost to embarrassed to post. What'll happen to my reputation as a pretty good writer if I post THIS?

Ah well . All my fantasy stories are comedies except for my novel. I'll be posting another comedy some time soon after this one. Unfortunately this one is undated; I'm not sure when I wrote it, but I know it was after Life of a Shark. Anyway, here goes .*

Love in Perlaedon

Barvalon sighed as he wiped his chin, nonchalantly placing a glass wine cup back on the table. "If there is one thing I miss while I’m away, it’s good Perlaedon wine."
His suitors giggled and hid their faces behind silk handkerchiefs. Usually girls were not the suitors, and even if it would mean that it was he who had to propose eventually, he wished it was the other way around. Having these girls simpering over him all day was the one thing he didn’t miss while he was away. But benefits only came with difficulties, so he supposed he had to bear this.
He forced a grin, but he was afraid it looked more like a snarl.
The women giggled again, several of them blushing uproariously.
He sat up from the couch and extended his hand to one of the maidens. "My boots, please?"
She hid them behind her back, giggling and blushing furiously. He sighed and stood up, and she backed up, shaking her head and reddening all over again.
He put his hands behind her back and took his boots away, but as he tried to walk away, he found that she wouldn’t let go of his arm.
"What is your name?" he asked quietly.
"Rose," she said, batting her eyelashes.
"I should have guessed," he said dryly and she blushed, the others laughing uproariously. "Well Rose, would you please release my arm?"
"Only if you kiss me," she said.
He tore his arm loose and pulled on his boots, stomping once in each of them before walking out the door, the whole pack of them following him, chattering and giggling to one another.
He walked up to the king’s door and knocked twice.
"Come in, Barvalon, I’ve been waiting for you."
He opened the door a small way, squeezed through and latched it shut in the girls’ faces, pulling the bolt behind him.
"They causing you problems again?" Pherledon asked quietly, a small smile hovering around his face.
"Not a moment’s peace, and it’s not funny. They cling to me like leaches while I’m here, the only thing I don’t miss while I’m away from Milkran."
"How did your trip go this time?" Pherledon asked, raising a hand to his chin.
"The griffin is trying harder to escape its prison, and the Serpent too. It’s as if they sense something evil nearby, and are trying to reach it. Last time they did this was when the Black Giant came to Milkran."
"And you slew it, even though it killed fifty other of our knights," Pherledon said with a nod of his head. "In single combat, too. Don’t you understand why, with this only one of your great feats those women chase you everywhere?"
"They don’t even know the first thing about attracting a man," Barvalon said with a sigh, sitting on the bottom step of the balcony.
"You are the greatest warrior the realm has ever seen. Masters of swords cannot train you any farther, and how long was the time in which you beat the last one who challenged you?"
"Kivilron Dark Sword," Barvalon recited. "Master of evil swordsmen, leading an army to Milkran. Barvalon Master of White Warriors, brave hero of Perlaedon slew him in fifteen seconds and killed each of his strongest warriors. But I’m not here to speak of my feats of arms. Everyone I speak to is longing to shake my hand, to have me sign a autograph, to hear a pleasant word. Why can’t I speak with anyone intelligent anymore? There’s you and the White Warriors. They speak straight and don’t force handkerchiefs round my arms."
Pherledon’s cheeks puffed and he burst out laughing, holding his sides with mirth. Barvalon frowned and glanced down at himself. His eyes came upon three pink kerchiefs, two tied to his arm and one to his leg, each of them having notes written on them with meeting dates.
Reaching down, he ripped the kerchiefs off and threw them in a wastebasket. He sighed and put his head in his hands. "Is it their goal to drive me mad?"
"Thank-you for your report, Master of White Warriors. Return to the prisons of the serpent and griffin and ensure that they stay in their places."
"Thank-you," Barvalon said, standing up and walking towards the door. When he reached the door he heard several giggles from outside. Stopping, he turned his head back to Pherledon. "Your highness, do you mind if I leave by the window?"

[Lief Erikson]

"Go ahead," Pherledon answered.
With a smile, Barvalon ran to the other side of the room, pulled the window open and climbed through. Noticing a balcony fifteen feet below, he decided to make for that. Careful so as not to slip on the stones, he finally was just over it.
He leapt down smoothly, his cloak flying in the wind behind him. He landed on both feet with catlike grace, standing up instantly after.
A metal bar struck him in the head and he stepped back, slightly stunned. He stumbled and fell head over heels off the balcony, catching onto its edge with one hand, his fingers clawing for a better hold on the loose stone. Looking down, his eyes widened at the 200 foot drop far below. There were trees down there, and from here on the mountain he could see far away in every direction. Right now however, he was in no mood to look at the view.
His fingers were slipping. Above him, a woman leaned over the balcony, reaching down a hand toward him. "Catch on, whoever you are," she said with fear in her voice. "I didn’t mean . . . Just hold on as best you can."
He managed to grip her hand but felt nervous to put too much weight on it lest he hurt her. Her fingers curled around his hand, holding on tightly. "Go ahead, put weight on it. I’m stronger than I look."
He pulled himself upwards, holding half onto her arm and half onto the edge of the balcony. Finally, he rolled over the edge and dropped with a gasp on the stones. He wiped his forehead slightly, feeling sweat. "What happened?"
"I am sorry," the woman said, kneeling down next to him. "I thought you were a thief or something. I didn’t mean to . . . are you hurt?"
"I’ve suffered far worse before, miss," he said. "Far worse. I’m so used to bumps on the head I hardly felt that one."
"Don’t boast," she said. "I hate a man who brags."
Barvalon’s eyes widened in surprise. This was certainly not one of his suitors, then. "Who are you?"
"My name is Elverana," she said, standing up and stepping away from him. She walked to the edge of the balcony. "Is there anything I can get for you? Cold water maybe?"
"No, nothing . . ." he began, but stopped when he got a better look at her. She was by far the most lovely woman he had ever seen. Her long, blond hair fell over her shoulders and she wore a gown of violet silks. Her slender figure was emphasized by a small golden belt around her waist, and she had large, blue eyes. Around her throat she wore a gold necklace with emeralds set in, and around her head was a small coronet. "Yes please," he said with an inviting smile. "And pour yourself one too."
"No thank-you, I’m not thirsty," she said with a hint of a smile.
He stood up and walked into the shade where he could be near to her. He accepted the glass from her and she motioned him to a seat.
"So what were you doing on my balcony?" she asked as she picked up a golden scepter from the balcony. The metal bar.
His eyes widened. "You pitched that at me?"
"I’m sorry," she said apologetically. "I didn’t mean to . . ."
"No, it’s not that. But that thing is expensive!"
"Perhaps it is," she said, putting the scepter down and seating herself on a cushioned chair. "So who are you, and what were you doing on my balcony?"
"Escaping ruthless attackers," he said in a dry voice. "As always." Time to impress her. "My name is Barvalon, and I am the Master of the White Warriors."
She stood up and walked up to him. He opened his mouth slightly in anticipation of the kiss. What he didn’t expect was the open handed slap against his cheek.
He was a strong man, and if the scepter blow in the head hadn’t hurt him much, this barely hurt at all.
"What was that for?" he asked with a puzzled frown.
Seeing that the blow had had little effect, she picked up the scepter and swung it at his head. He easily caught it with his hand, a soldier’s move. Twisting it sharply, he had it out of her hands in an instant.
"How dare you!" she said loudly, but he knew it was not about the removal of her weapon. "I am the princess of Milkran, and I can’t believe this of you! You have every other girl in the castle pining over you, and you delude them into thinking that you love them! And now you come after me! Well I tell you one thing, Barvalon, if you’ve come to try to get me to join your flock of followers, you’ve got another thing coming!"
His mouth was open slightly in the beginning, but he closed it and let her finish her tirade. "I never asked for their love . . ." he began calmly.
"Then why don’t you tell them you don’t share it!?"
"They wouldn’t listen if I did tell them. They annoy me, and I try to let them know it. Simply because I’m a good fighter, they’re all clinging to my arm constantly."
"You should tell them," she insisted, walking away from him to the other end of the room.

[Lief Erikson]

He had not intended that it go like this. She was simply beautiful, and she was not absolutely enamored with him like those others. He had wanted intelligent conversation, but he had not expected it from a woman. And now he thought that this was probably the only woman he didn’t entirely want it from. Well did he really not want it? Perhaps if he had that with a good mix of the other . . . He blushed slightly. Considering her in this way was ridiculous. She had Pherledon’s blood in her veins; that was probably where she’d gotten her sense from.
"Very well, I suppose I’ll leave you," he said, steeling his resolve. "I am sorry for intruding on you in this manner, and believe me it was not from any intention of adding you to that pack of females that follows me everywhere. Goodbye."
He closed the door behind him and tried to keep a straight face, but he was feeling an unusual amount of sadness over this. What was that for? She was another woman, and he had actually tried, actually wanted . . . he had wanted to add another to those women who followed him everywhere. At least he’d escaped them for the moment. Perhaps now, for a while anyway, he could think in peace.



When the next knock came on Pherledon’s door again it took him a moment to realize who it must be on the other side. He recognized his daughter’s way of knocking the moment he thought about it, however. "Elverana?" he asked gently. "Come in, child."
She opened the door and came in, closing it behind her. She walked over to him slowly with her hands behind her back. He glanced over at her face from his chair and smiled fondly. "What is it?" he asked, extending his hands toward her.
"I have done two foolish things," she said sadly. "And I feel something even more foolish right now."
"And you want to tell me what these foolish things are?"
She nodded.
"Speak child, I’m listening."
"Fearing I was being attacked, I threw the royal scepter at a man who jumped onto my balcony from the mountain side above, and nearly lost the scepter. The other thing is that I hurt his feelings needlessly, and I think I caused him pain."
"And he was innocent of any crime?"
She nodded again.
He sighed and looked down at the papers of his desk for a moment.
"And the other foolish thing is that now I feel more sorry that I hurt his feelings than I am that I nearly lost us the scepter."
"Did he impress you that much?"
"No, there’s just something about him that makes me feel . . . I don’t know what I feel toward him. But I am sorry I hurt him."
"Then you must apologize."
"I am the princess!"
"Even princesses should not leave such things undone. It is important. You must apologize."
"Yes," she said slowly after a moment. "I think I want to."
"Good luck," he said, spanking her lightly with a book before returning to his papers.
"Father! You mustn’t do that anymore, I’m twenty six for pity’s sake!"
All he did was smile blandly up at her, and she finally left, more than a little huffily although she tried to disguise it.

[Lief Erikson]

Barvalon slowly finished eating, although not in his room. He was eating at the Starlight Café near the top of the mountain. The moon was full, and he looked at the empty chair on the other side of the table with longing and sadness. He was a fool to have trifled with the princess in that way. He should have known better. Now was the perfect night and the romantic atmosphere was incredibly strong. All it did was make him more sad.
He was the Master of the White Warriors, but however much he knew about fighting, soldiers and strategy, he knew too little about human beings. He had behaved foolishly and she had naturally been insulted.
A hand touched his shoulder and he sighed, rolling his eyes. Another one of the blockheady . . .
Elverana walked out from behind his chair and motioned to the seat opposite him. "Is this seat taken?"
"No," he said as soon as he remembered his manners and overcame his shock. "Please sit down."
She did, and folded her hands on the table. "I’d like to apologize for my actions earlier today, in my quarters. I am sorry, and if there’s anything I can do to make amends, I’m willing."
"It’s perfectly all right," he said, standing up and motioning a waiter over. "I’ve already eaten, but . . ."
"I have too," she said softly, and Barvalon ceased his attempts to get the waiter to acknowledge him.
"Then will you do me a favor?" he asked, plucking up his courage.
"What is it you want?"
"Would you . . . would you walk with me on the stone walkway on the mountain side, Elverana?"
"Certainly," she said with a smile, rising gracefully from her seat and accepting to hold his arm.
The starlight glistened down upon the couple as they strode sedately along the walkway, the sky a velvety darkness with the stars standing out, large white spheres surrounded by blue halo.
"I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything so lovely," Barvalon said, releasing her arm and putting both hands on the railing, looking out over the country side stretching away into the distance.
"It is beautiful," Elverana agreed, her voice soft and breathy.
"It is, and so are you, Elverana," Barvalon said softly. "Don’t think I’m trying to add you to that group of women who trail after me. I don’t want them, I don’t care about their affection and they know it in their heart of hearts."
Gently, he moved closer to her. The shadows on her face made her look all the more beautiful, in a haunting loveliness. He reached his arms around her and pulled her close, lowering his mouth and kissing her.
It was a long kiss, and beautiful. He could feel the pulse of her body as she rested in his arms, perfect loveliness. Finally he let go, gently, ever so gently.
"I can see why they’re so attracted to you," she breathed, her eyes closed.
"I’ve done this with none of them, this I swear," Barvalon said softly. "You are the first, and the only." He pulled her close again, and again their lips met. He moved his hand up to the back of her neck and felt the silkiness of her hair.
After even longer than last time, he finally pulled away again. All is beautiful, he thought, his mind reeling in ecstasy. I’ve never known what it is like, to love and be loved. Now I know. It is perfection.

[IronParrot]

I can picture a very specific film actor portraying Barvalon, but I can't put my finger on the name...

Anyway, don't worry Lief, that wasn't all too embarrassing. It was indeed quite enjoyable (though it could use some minor proofreading).

Actually, it reminds me of Singin' In The Rain...

[Lief Erikson]

That's logical . Don Lockwood, Cathy Seldon . . . I suppose the girls are the "adoring fans". It's been a while since I saw that movie; I need to watch that again.

I wonder . . . have any of you Entmooters actually been to the Starlight Café? It's an Internet site; they'd probably be rather shocked that I used that as the romance location in this story .

My sister was in stitches as she was reading this one, but she liked one of my other comedies better. That's the other fantasy story I've written, a "choose your own adventure" type written in second person. It's probably better than this one.

[Aralyn]

That was funny Lief. I really liked it. I don't do comedies cause I only have inside jokes (like inside my head ) and I appreciate anyone who can write them.

[Lief Erikson]

Glad you enjoyed it .

[Ninquelote]

It's good, but they fell in love a bit too quickly to my tastes.
And perhaps it's just me, but the whole 'from the window' bit was slightly strange. Didn't Pherledon know his daughter was in the room below?

And maybe it's just that I don't know too much about this world, but a Cafe? It might be a matter of opinion, for Cafe's in real life disgust me as well.

Overall, nicely done.

[Lief Erikson]

Originally posted by Ninquelote
It's good, but they fell in love a bit too quickly to my tastes.

It happens . Er, even if it doesn't happen, oh well. It's not a very serious story, you know.

Originally posted by Ninquelote
And maybe it's just that I don't know too much about this world, but a Cafe? It might be a matter of opinion, for Cafe's in real life disgust me as well.

This Café isn't disgusting. It's around the top of the mountain to gain full advantage of the starlight and the view, and it's open at night for people to come and eat or talk.

Originally posted by Ninquelote
And perhaps it's just me, but the whole 'from the window' bit was slightly strange. Didn't Pherledon know his daughter was in the room below?

Maybe he did and maybe he didn't. He might be a match-maker and he might not be; I don't know. He's similar to his daughter in that they were both very taken with Barvalon, as everyone is in Perlaedon. Barvalon's the hero of the land .

[Ninquelote]

I dunno. I picture all cafe's with an expresso machine. Does this one have an expresso machine?

[Lief Erikson]

Picture it more like a late night open air fancy restaurant. Then you'll be closer to the picture I'm trying to paint .

[Ninquelote]

But when I think of a sort of "kings and queens" place, I never really think of restaurants, mostly like their own private kitches and dining rooms and such. I mean, if it's a restaurant, it's open to the public, but if it's not open to the public, then it's a private thing.

Again, maybe I don't know that much about the world you're creating.

[Lief Erikson]

It's closer to the capital of a kingdom than some sort of private castle. The court is here, courtiers- where do you think that flock of followers he has come from, if it's a private castle?

[Ninquelote]

Then what seems like anonprivate restaurant doesn't make sense, because in royalty times, there were always one-sided enmity between the lower and upper class... with a large gap between. (Kind of like today.)

[Lief Erikson]

This story doesn't worry about class distinction. If this was in the medieval time period, that probably would be a 'royalty only' place though, you're right in that. But notice I have 'waiters' instead of 'servants' or 'fiefs'. This is an imaginary world .

[Ninquelote]

I know, but I usually can't make that distinction.