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Coop with AussieGiant


Outskirts of Paris, 1080

It was a midsummer day, a cloudy midsummer day. Foul weather was surely coming, but no such thing would dampen the spirits in Paris and all around the city. In a few days time a grand tournament, the likes of which had never been seen in France, would be taking place. Lords ranging from far and wide throughout the kingdom had already arrived at the capital in droves to attend. For many of the nobility, these were days of festivities, but for Constance each day was unbearable. She felt as if all the eyes of France were suddenly upon her, an unpleasant reminder that she was now of age to marry. At least, with all the commotion in the city she was able to escape the oppressive environment of the court.

Riding her powerful destrier and clad in a coarse brown cloak with a bliaud of the same tone, Constance made her way to a nearby forest at a gallop. Once more, she had eluded her escorts, but they were fast becoming more than a match for her. She needed to be cautious today in particular, because for all his love, she was certain her father would approve of the illicit meeting she had planned. Once in the forest, hopefully safe from prying eyes, the wayward princess pulled on the reins of her mount to bring him to a slower pace. In these thick woods, a gallop would be ill-advised and while Constance was not one to shy away from risks, she still possessed some measure of common sense.

Her thoughts drifted to the man she had arranged to meet in secrecy; Alan de Rohan, Duke of Bretagne. Years ago they had met on more than one occasion, as children. Last she had seen him, he had been chasing her through the gardens at her mother's behest. Constance remembered vividly those moments, she had found some of Louis' old clothes and had changed into them. Dressed as a boy, she had fled her protesting mother, only to be tackled down by a young Alan. Those were the times she cherished, old enough to wander about, young enough to remain a child. Now, she was a princess and he was a Duke. Being only four years her senior, Constance was impressed with him and when she had heard he was coming to Paris, she had decided he would be a key to her future.

After a short while, she finally reached the clearing where he would be waiting. With a practiced hop, Constance dismounted and tied the horse to a nearby tree before making her way to the center of the small glade.

Alan was leaning on a tree as she approached, at twenty he was tall, slim and certainly handsome, however he had not filled out physically even though he was fully practiced in the martial aspects of his station. He still seemed more boyish than manly, his personality however was the difference. It was large.

He momentarily thought about her. At sixteen she was already a woman, the young girl he had known was rapidly disappearing both physically and in personality. She was certainly turning out exactly as he had dreamed she would. The rough exterior and tomboy looks did not fool him as it had fooled others. Their physical contact and “rough housing” had receded over the last few years as her developing figure had lead to far fewer places to “rough house” with.

Smiling broadly as she approached, he pushed himself off the tree and, with a practiced flourish of a courtesan, bowed.

“Your Highness, it is most excellent to see you. Your radiance is a sight to behold as always.”

His grin gave the words overly exaggerated formality, something she was familiar with.

Constance smiled warmly upon seeing him and flushed slightly at his compliment, she still wasn't accustomed to those kind of compliments, especially with Louis reminding her what an inappropriate woman she was.

"Duke de Rohan." She said in a mock formal tone while nodding. "The title fits you nicely." The princess added as she appraised him, head to toe.

Noticing the scrutiny he spread his arms wide and look down at himself. His riding clothes were an easy fit on his long frame, the exceptional quality hidden by the plain cut and colors.

“Do I pass?”

She chuckled. "What do you think?"

Laughing at her quick reply he winked at her.

"I'd say I've smashed the pass mark and are making excellent progress towards a distinction by the look I'm getting!!

You're such a charmer my dear, I really need to keep that in mind. Plus the scraps and scratches all over you just add to the look."

Glancing at her figure.

"You could pick up the dress code a little though, this whole peasant revival things being a little over done don't you think?"

"Its more practical for what I have in mind." Constance shrugged.

Tilting his head like a dog unsure of what is going on Alan replied.

"And what may that be my dear?"

From the folds of her bliaud, she revealed a long knife with a jewel encrusted gold hilt.

"My father gave me this, for my protection. I'd like to actually be able to use it."

Alan's face turned serious for a moment, before slipping back into his usual humorous expression.

"If you're serious Constance, then I have to ask. Are you prepared to kill someone? Because if you cannot commit to that then there is no point. Keep in mind this is all about your intent and nothing to do with skills I may teach you."

He was more than earnest in his tone.

"I... Am I prepared to defend myself? Yes. Am I ready to kill a man?... I don't know. Even if I said yes, I don't think I would truly know that answer until I was face to face with that decision."

The young Duke held her gaze for a moment, clearly assessing her response. After a long pause his green eyes sparkled with mischief.

"Fair enough, your brother and father will skin me alive for this you know."

His grin indicated he was not particularly concerned.

For the remainder of the afternoon, Alain began to teach Constance how to fight with a blade, or at least tried to. The girl was as much a menace to herself as she was to her opponent. Using fallen tree branches to spar, she took her branch in a tight two-handed grip and immediately started flailing about wildly, never even coming close to land a blow. It was obvious she was trying to compensate her lack of skill with sheer aggressiveness. As expected, she tired after a time and Alain had little trouble passing through her meager defense to tap her shoulder with his stick.

The other attempts followed a similar pattern, but slowly the young Duke was teaching Constance the proper grip and more importantly, control. By the end of the afternoon, the girl was still largely inept with a blade, but she had caught onto the basics and could probably become at least competent if she practiced more than occasionally. Despite all the effort involved and her repeated failures, Constance was beaming. With a dirty hand she wiped some sweat from her brow and addressed Alain, still panting from the exertion.

"That..." She paused to catch her breath. "That was harder than I expected."

Smiling broadly he replied; "Next time we are going to take a few lessons on footwork and balance. Something you might be more familiar with in these initial stages. A good bladesman or woman must first practice poise and foot positioning before the rest. It will be more like dancing than swinging at a gate with a stick. We will focus on speed and technique rather than strength.

Is that to your liking Your Highness?"

"I think I can manage that." Looking at the fading sun, she added. "I should be leaving now, lest my presence be overly missed. I take it you will be participating in the tournament?"

"Indeed Your Highness, I'm looking forward to see the nobility of France gathered to compete and then begin the first of the new formalized Council meetings.

Your father and brother are making excellent in roads towards ending the petty squabbling and fighting that has held back this kingdom for too long."

Pausing, Alain's face grows more serious.

"Be careful you are not drawn into issues as a method of leverage or power Constance. If you truly wish to have some influence over who you marry I would recommend you be proactive with your father lest he starts to listen to those who whisper in his ear as to their recommendations.

Whether you like it or not, you are of marrying age now, and therefore as daughter to the King, you represent a direct passage to favor and power."

Constance grimaced at the mention of "marriage", but nodded nonetheless at the Duke's words.

"Take care also and I wish you well in the tournament."

She then turned to leave the clearing.