A Royal affair – Fable of Swords.

 

“A Royal Affair” 

 

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Razorbackwriter: 

Approaching one of the balcony’s of the grand stone building, Lady Dominique now had a perfect viewing platform for the great castle of the King. As the breeze teased her red curls, that fell down off her shoulder, she let out a soft sigh. The King was up there, probably in his grand chamber. No doubt surrounded by his adored children. The Prince and Princess. Already she had seen those in the streets and in some of the grander houses sporting black garb. It was like they couldn’t wait for the King to take his final breath. It actually sickened her to the core. Dominique knew how much the King loved colours. She could remember his voice, as though he was standing in behind her now. Resting his hand on her shoulder so that she might clasp her hand over the top of it. One of those private moments, that she held deep within her heart. Their relationship would cause massive scandals if it were to be revealed. Of course, all believed him to be a good and devout King, and he was….he just had a taste for red heads, and one in particular. Dominique dragged her fingers along the harsh surface of the stone railing as she kept thinking of him. What made her heart ache even more was…he had not called for her. Why? The bastard child of his brother, his niece….his lover. That is what she was, though to society she was regarded as a business woman and a lady of great wealth. Oh, the King did help start her off, but she discovered the ability on which to read people. To seek out those that could only enhance her wealth and stature. Now she had enough gold, enough houses to rival any Duchess or Baroness. Her dead husband gave her nothing but a name. She had bore no children, and probably never would. There were secret desires to carry the King’s child, but she knew that any child that was of his name, would be a bastard and most likely killed by the Prince.

Since her husband’s untimely death, Dominique had a line of suitors a mile long. For one, her beauty was well spoken of, not to mention her vast wealth and connections. She should be happy to receive tributes and proposals daily, but alas she was not. Dominique couldn’t bring herself to love another man. The King had her heart from the moment he bedded her and stole her virginity. What would her cousin, the Princess have to say about that? Thankfully, neither of her cousins knew. Both the King and Dominique were careful to hide their affair from prying eyes. The only one that knew, was Tim – her man servant. A eunuch that she had bought on a trip to the east. He had served her faithfully and loyally as she treated him with a respect she held for few men. He was more than a slave, more than an adviser. Tim was her eyes and ears beyond the Market walls. The juicy tit bits that he brought back to whisper into her ear, was worth its weight in gold, and helped her to manipulate certain situations, that might turn scandalous, if she had not gotten involved. Everyone had a price, and Dominique was more than willing to buy a few souls in order for her to gain more power and influence. A human she may be, but a devious and crafty one at that.

But what is wealth when the one thing you want most so desperately, lay just out of your reach? Green eyes filled with sadness as she stared up at the black flags that had taken over from the royal crest. Another sign that the King was dying.

“I should be there.” Her voice wistful and full of regret.

“My Lady, if you were would you be able to mask your true feelings from prying eyes. The royals are not stupid.”

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Tim came up behind his Mistress and looked upon her fondly. Her soft silken dress lifting and dancing in the breeze like gossamer wings. A beauty standing in her ivory tower – ever longing for what she can’t have. Tim exhaled softly as his Mistress gave no response. She was thinking….she was always thinking. Lady Dominique patted the stone rail, then turned towards her man servant. His heart near stopped a beat to see that she had tears in her eyes. Lady Dominique De Shay never cried. Not even on news of the death of her husband. That time….she laughed. Odd how emotions react in such strange ways.

“I envy them, Tim. They are probably sitting on his bed right now, taking his hand. Listening to his words.” Dominique’s head shook slightly as she reached up and wiped away a single falling tear. Rare was it to see this soft underbelly, from what was a ruthless business woman. It was just then as she realized what she had said, that she suddenly grit her teeth. Sadness quickly changing to anger. Her eyes were still cast down, but her small hands were curling into fists.

“So swear it if he dies before I get to tell him I love him …..” Her words trailed off as Tim reached out to touch her arm, to try and help her through this. Dominique pulled away and snarled. “…their house…will be cursed.” Did Dominique even have it in her power to do such a thing? Tim drew his hand back and bowed his head as Dominique turned her head back to the direction of the castle. Lady Domi raised her head proudly, her chest swelling as she strengthened her resolve.

“I may be a bastard child…but I was loved by a King.”

 

~RB~

Alex Lloyd – Amazing.

 

Morning guys.  Today’s sing a long song is by an Aussie favorite, Alex Lloyd.  Really hope you enjoy it as much as I do, as Alex is one of my favorite musicians.  This song’s lyrics fill me with hope.

 

When all you want to do is rock
But you dont want to bear the shock, no more
When its just swell that fills your eyes
Belated feelings that you have denied

When every wolf is at your door
Just like a hundred times before
But you dont want to leave the end

You were amazing
And we did amazing things
And I wouldn’t change it
‘Cause we were amazing things

Rebuilding bridges in your mind
Your eagerness now is on the line
The plastic mountain at your feet
Divided streets now as you look to find a seat

When every wolf is at your door
Just like a hundred times before
But you dont want to see the end

You were amazing
And we did amazing things
And I wouldnt change it
‘Cause we were amazing things

And I really didnt want that push today
No I really didnt want to end this way
But the things that seem to bind us
Are the things we put behind us on this day

You were amazing
And we did amazing things
And I wouldn’t change it
‘Cause we were amazing things

 

I’m only a man – GS.

Scene setting : Back streets of New York.

co-written with Chor.

 

Chor:  Isa could not make the tears stop. It was like a well within her, the spigot broken and her body unable to end the flow.

Isa lived in a cage of darkness for the longest time and the light she’s just seen has blinded her soul, leaving it warm and alive. Much to Isa’s surprise, Frank lifted her face and his lips met her skin again. The saltwater that poured from her ceased slowly with each kiss, ending as he pulled her into his chest. The hug was the very definition of comfort and she let it soak into her, breathing Frank in like she could will the bad memories away with the scent of him.

What remained of the tears on her face soaked into his shirt leaving little wet splotches over his heart, which she heard beating like a sounding drum. With each beat, she fell rhythmically into a trance in his arms. Soon, though, she knew the moment was ending. His words were joking and light, an appreciated laugh that helped her break from the previous moment however much she didn’t wish to. She let a light grin slip over her features and looked up to his face.

“I say speak for yourself; for an ME I’m pretty hardy,” she joked back, letting her teeth bite gently down on her bottom lip. His next words were infinitely more serious and she sighed, basking in the truth of them. In school, they tell you the things that will go wrong. They tell you about inaccuracies in your work; about how you may encounter troubles with tox screens or other things of that nature. They never tell you that what you really need to fear is the people around you; those who are supposed to be your peers, your mentors, and your saviors.

“The worst affected from corruption is the common man,” Isa quoted, thinking back to a report she’d written before her graduate school years.

 

Razorbackwriter:  Isa was a girl who was wise beyond her years. It was clear that she had suffered in a similar way to Frank. The endless release of tears showed that she had been living with a ghost and a guilt that she could not shake. Been strong for so long, there had been no one that understood, that mirrored her pain in the same way….till now. Through watching Frank go through the motions of release in a way could bring comfort and solace. By bringing her into his arms and holding her against his beating heart he was more than just a shoulder to cry on. He was a man that could hold her up. As she gave him words of wisdom, Frank was able to see through the haze of emotion that had overwhelmed him. He was a man sure, but still a human being. It was wonderful to see the smile that appeared after the rain of her tears. Like the rising of the sun, bright and warm on a new day. Going it alone was not the way forward. Perhaps together they could conquer their demons, not just the ones that had taken their friends and loved ones, but the ones within. The inner demons that taunted them constantly.

“The worst affected from corruption is the common man.”

True words.

“Maybe we need to be the heroes in this. Real crime fighters.” It may have sounded a bit far fetched. It was not like he was speaking of becoming Superman; ripping open his shirt to reveal a big S, but to champion against the Commander and those that were pulling the strings. It was going to take a great deal of work and commitment, and now that Frank had Isa on his side, maybe she would be the wind to his broken wings.

Frank offered his hand to Isa, to walk out of the alley and finally leave Rory to rest. As they walked he said. “One thing I know, is I can’t keep going without sleep. Wanna come back to my place to crash for a few hours?”

 

~RB~

 

Chor:  It was the idea of them being the heroes, these tortured souls with their forsaken past, that made Isa remove herself from his breast. The idea was a wondrous one, full to the brim with hope and she knew looking to the future the difficulty it would bring. She would walk this flaming path anyways. The night at the end of the red and yellow tunnel, where she would rest easily knowing she’d done all she could, is what helped click herself into a new state of being. Instead of naught but existing in this dirty, filthy world, she would choose to live; to break free of the chains that dragged her so far down for so long. Isa was delving deep into her mind, clearing it of the pain so that it may be filled with happiness in return.

Her hand instinctively moved to grasp Franks, as if it was something she regularly experienced, and let him lead her out of the alley. By now their roses had lost their petals and the wind gathering in the empty alley, having nowhere else to go, pushed the mixture past Isa and Franks feet and into the street. At the mention of sleep, Isa’s eyes opened wider. Sleep. Dear lord, when was thelast time she actually, truly slept? Her body groaned to her in answer, praying for her to accept. If she went home, however, she would not even close her eyes before she started at working again. It was a curse.

“I would be delighted, thank you,” She replied, smiling thankfully. Something occurred to her then, and she looked to Frank.

I’m not sure I’ve truly introduced myself to you, Frank Malone, as opposite as that may sound. I am Dr. Isolde von Goethe of the New York Police Department’s Medical Examiners office; and it will be a pleasure to work with you.” It was a small, but true joke. She knew of him, but she had never really met him before this truly strange and captivating day. She’s glad she didn’t go home after her shift. Had she done as she should have and let the next crew take this body, she may never have had this wondrous experience.

“Lead the way.”

 

Razorbackwriter:  
Funny how one can simply connect with another and yet not even really know them This was the case with Isa and Frank. He didn’t even know her full name or her position at the NYPD….until now. Swinging her hand as they walked out of the alley, Isa introduced her name in full, and it had Frank’s ears prick. Sounded German. Interesting. “I think Isolde is a pretty name.” Isolde worked in the force’s Medical examiner’s office in the very same building that he did. No wonder he was just familiar with her first name having only seen her in passing. Her name on the odd report that he happened to have tacked to the wall of his study at home. Oh yes, he had been collecting those over the years.

Would she react to seeing his wall of mystery at home? Maybe, but it was something he wanted to share with her. As he had come by cab, he put his arm out when they reached the main road and whistled for another to stop and take them both back to his place. Frank gave Isa’s hand a light squeeze, as he found her company to be just what he needed, aside from sleep.

“Oh…one thing about my place. It is your typical bachelor pad. Fraid my housekeeping skills aren’t exactly one of my strong points.” Frank was making excuses as he tried to prepare her for what his place looked like. Still having to pay maintenance to a son he hadn’t seen for a few years, the detective was not exactly well off. He’d thought about taking up a second job, but with his mind always on the fate of Rory and the unsolved case, he never had the time.

A yellow cab pulled up beside where the pair stood, and Frank being a gentleman opened the door for Isa.

“After you.”

If she hopped in, Frank would slide in beside her and give the driver the directions to his apartment building across town. The inside of the cab was like something out of a Indian Bollywood movie, with the faint smell of curry and a lot of tassles and satin. Even a little elephant with it’s trunk up on the dash. The music streaming through the cab had a definite Indian flavor and the cabbie bopped his head along to it, barely taking in what Frank had said.

“I hope he knows English, or we’re fucked.”

 

~RB~

 

Chor:  A warmth, a rush of blood, spread across Isolde’s cheeks at Franks comment.

“Thank you, it was my grandmother’s name. My mother was pregnant with me, so my father came first to America. When my mother gave birth, my grandmother was too sick to join her and we had to leave her behind in Germany. We’ve been mailing ever since, but I haven’t heard anything back in a long while. Claura always was her favourite…” Isa explained, realizing that no one knows anything about her. No one in this whole country knows about her. It makes one feel small, being so completely alone and unknown. She looked to Frank, glad she now had someone to confide in; someone to remember her.

Frank whistled for a cab and much to Isa’s surprise, one truly appeared. The light squeeze upon her hand sent a jolt of electricity up Isa’s arm and she leaned into him, smiling when hearing about his abode. She had little room to judge, as her place of living was a mess of furniture, cases, and whatever cats came sauntering in through the cat door from across the hall. Schrodinger didn’t mind, which meant Isa didn’t either.

“Don’t worry, I most assuredly will survive it,” Isolde attempted to convince him.

As the cab door was opened for her, she nodded in thanks and slipped inside the pungent vehicle. This surely was a joke. The complete redecoration of the cab made it a small, Indian paradise for the driver and as much as she commended him for her efforts, she laughed inwardly at the whole thing. She, too, hoped that the man would get them to their destination safely and without trouble.