Another day, another promise kept as Giles found himself in the chapel again. Inside, he wondered if this was just a game, a silly diversion for a sophisticated woman, but the thought did not take hold very long. If anything, he felt like a character in one of her lais, proving his devotion and dedication.

If she came or not? It was not something he could control, he could control himself and his approach. And he was steadfast.

The hush continues for some time as you stare at the image of the dead king. Until, finally, you hear the door open behind you and the tread of quiet feet.

When no announcement comes, Giles turns his head until he can see the door and let reveal to his eyes whosoever had passed into his evening, and what was revealed was magnificent.

From his kneeling position, Giles bowed politely and smiled broadly. "Might one be so bold as to ask what brings a lady such as yourself to a place like this?"

"Three days have passed since I read a lovely letter from a young man I had never met." She smiled. "And I was told by a monk here that three days have seen you return to the same spot at the same time. That sort of dedication is rare, these days, so I thought I might see who had the fortitude of spirit to show it."

"A letter from a strange man, and still you came? Alone?" Giles asked in faux shock, raising a hand to his mouth. "What would the ladies of the court say?" He joked.

"But you give this young man too much credit I am sure, it is easy to be devoted when truly inspired."

"They would say that I am foolish to put so much trust in the goodness of a man...any man." She smiled a little sadly. "And they may be right, but when one is vain and enjoys hearing how one has inspired a man, one is willing to extend a little courtesy of one's own."

Rising slowly to his feet, Giles turns to face Marie properly, but sensing a healthy reticence to be too bold, he makes no advances towards her, merely belaying the strain on his neck from his seated position.

"A little courtesy goes a long way, as does a little trust, and the boldness to act when prudence would beg caution. But no true man worthy of the title could abide discomforting so generous a soul, surely this good man must have some way to set you at ease?"

She inclines her head. "Tell me a story, Giles de Braose."

Giles pauses to think for a second before he nods, he tries to conjure a worthy tale and when he comes to a determination, extends a hand towards his muse to guide her to a small pew. Sitting beside Marie, her hands lightly gripped in his own as he looked into her eyes, Giles started to tell his tale.

“Let us begin in Paris then,” Giles began in a low voice. “Where many tales of great loves and losses call home, and this is no exception. Our tale opens on the visage of a beautiful woman, nay a girl, a mid-teen child from lands far from the East who had travelled with her family to try and arrange a marriage for her with a wealthy Earl, trading their daughter’s youth and beauty for the cold comfort of coin. Illyana had known this would be her fate, as it was the fate of many noble daughters across civilization, and she had come to terms with it, or she thought she had, until she met an impoverished knight named Frederik. Fate conspired to interweave the paths of Illyana and Frederik over the coming months and the pair soon fell chastely in love.”

A moment is taken for the teller to catch his breath and permit the audience to fill in the blanks in their imagination.

“But despite Illyana’s pleading, her father would not relent and permit her to marry Frederik as the man she loved was not wealthy enough to match the other dowries that had been proposed. Discouraged but not defeated, Frederik swore to himself and to his love that he would make something of himself, to raise his star until it shone so bright that his pursuit of Illyana could not be ignored. For the next four years Frederik rode in tournaments, he fought in wars, he did anything he could to raise his station and social standing and by the time he believed himself worthy of Illyana, he was widely considered one of the most accomplished and conscientious mercenary knights in the province. It took Frederik another three years to track down his beloved, for she had moved far from Paris to a small coastal French Dukedom bordering on - and having its ownership contested by - l’Espagna. When Frederik arrived and learned that Illyana was already married and the mother of two young boys, he was heartbroken. All he had undergone, all the trials of his spirit and his will, the wounds to his flesh and his soul, all was for nothing for while a fire burned still for him behind Illyana’s eyes, he soon learned that a love of respect and admiration, if not passion, had grown between Illyana and Alan.”

“Alan was a good man and saw what the two meant to each other, he loved his wife dearly and convinced Frederik to stay in his Dukedom, to serve as a bodyguard to the Duchess Illyana. Over the next several months Frederik grew close to Illyana again, grew close to her children and even to Duke Alan, the pair bonding over their mutual if differing loves for Illyana, but as all stories do, this one diverges too falls into chaos as the Spaniards launch an attack on the Duchy and the castle to try and reclaim it for l’Espagna. The fighting was fierce, and it was a very close thing, but the tide eventually turned against the Duke’s forces and the ruling family was forced to retreat back to the docks to flee.”

“The enemy hounded them, Frederik falling back a number of times to try and fight off the pursuing forces, each time catching up again with a new wound or future scar. They eventually made their way to the water and the boats waiting there, Frederik last to arrive and seeing Illyana and her sons already in the boat ready to depart. Alan unsheathed his sword and took a stance at the head of the dock ready to defend his wife’s retreat as the harbourmaster prepared to sail the boat to safety, but when Frederik moved to stand beside him Alan shook his head. ‘We needn’t both die here today, fulfill your duty, protect the Duchess,’ he ordered the knight. ‘My wife she may be, but her heart has ever been yours.’”

“Frederik struggled with the order for a few seconds but acquiesced. He turned back towards the boat just long enough for Alan to focus on the enemies soon to be appearing in the distance, just long enough to give him the opportunity to strike the Duke hard across the base of his skull. Alan dropped to the ground and Frederik carried him to the boat, laying him gently within, next to Illyana.
‘Your love has made me a better man than I could have been on my own.’ Frederik explained to Illyana. ‘Now you must inspire your sons to greatness as well, and for that they need a father. It was enough that your love warmed my heart for none could warm my bed. I ask just one last kiss before the tides part us again, a parting from which there will be no reunion this time, my love.’”

"‘Goodbye, my Parisian pauper.’ Illyana whispered, before kissing him tenderly. Frederik shoved the boat into the surf before turning back to fight to secure the safety of the only woman he had ever loved. The sound of battle on the docks carried out to sea for what felt like hours, Frederik lent inhuman strength from that single kiss, and when his strength finally failed him, when he succumbed to the dozens of wounds and strikes that he had suffered; the sunset was falling on the horizon, but he was feeling no pain. She was safe, she was free, and that’s all he ever really wanted for her."

D4 EE - Tell me a story Orate TN10: 1d20 1 - SUCCESS

+3 Glory for daring to (and successfully!) tell(ing) a story to Marie de France.

Marie listens intently, a small smile playing on her lips. "Interesting, that the blow of fate should come from behind. There is honor in the sacrifice of self, but his lack of honor in striking his lord and his rival makes for an interesting contrast."

She considers for a moment. "Is Frederik a good knight?"

"We are none of us black and white, but all the shades in between, well, real people anyway." Giles adds with a gentle chuckle as his fingertips dare to dance over Marie's knuckles.

"But to answer your question, I think Frederik is written to be a great knight, but more importantly he tries to be a good man.

"It is interesting, then, that failure as the one can lead him to be great as the other. There is no question to my mind that a blow struck in treachery is rather against chivalry, but it does have a positive outcome. It is a troubled ending, but an illuminating one because of that."

Her hand moves away as you touch it, her expression does not change, however.

"Ah it is, but perhaps the tale needs an appendix then, a conclusion to show the listener how Frederik could be a better man. Perhaps in his failure he can make us all better, we just need a little guiding hand." Giles proposes as he lets Marie withdraw her hand with no fuss or complaint, letting his own settle into his lap as the conversation continues.

"I am not a great enough spinner of tales to compose a scene of clarity at his moment of death to drive home the message without turning too heavy handed, but mayhap, one who is used to working with the mixed moral messages found in the fables of Aesop may have an insight or suggestion?"

"I pray that my lord not misunderstand me. No, it is the tension between code and goodness that gives the story its meat. To resolve it neatly would be to erase part of its value, which is, of course, to invite men to think carefully, and to discuss, what it is to be good. Rather than, for instance, how they can profit from the misery of others."

"A noble heart, a tragic failing, a protagonist to make us all question our thoughts on duty and love. So what is it to be good then?" Giles speculates out loud.

"We are told to do good by our Lord God, to do good by our family and kin, but when such monumental conflicts clash is it love that wins out in the face of duty? Or is love truly our greatest duty in itself?"

D4 EE Flirting TN12: 1d20 6

"There are some who say is an indulgence, and inimical to duty. Surely it was a distraction that Frederick had to overcome."

"Was it not love that drove Frederik's ambition, love that elevated him to the greatness that he achieved? A chaste love that he strove to prove worthy of?" Giles asked, wondering if he was seeing where this path was leading.

"For four years he sought self improvement, then for three more his search continued such devotion does not sound like an indulgence to me. Though I be just a silly boy of ten and nine with much to learn of the world beyond my books."

"That is a curious question. His devotion led to self improvement, which made him at the same time a more effective knight. When we are looking at the early part of the story, therefore, it is difficult to see the danger in his love, because its effects in his actions dovetail with his duty. And yet, while the love was chaste, in the end it led him to strike her husband. Could a healthy, pure tree bear such fruit?"

"So do we draw from this then," Giles asks as eyes seem to rest on Marie's just a little longer, with a little more intensity, his teeth subconsciously nibbling at his lower lip.

"That the right motivation, the right muse or inspiration can give us all a chance to reach up and realize the power within ourselves, but that we also must be careful what that power turns us into, and that we don't lose sight of who we were before and remain true to ourselves and our beginnings?"

"Or to what is required of us in the present at the very least." She smiles. "Not everything of value is found in the self, after all."

Giles' gaze is unwavering.

"No," he agrees. "The most valued things are often only found in others but still reflect upon a part of ourselves."

"And what is valuable in you, Giles de Braose?"

"That depends more on the beholder does it not?" Giles countered, boastfulness not really being in his nature.

"I could tell you I am a scribe, a healer, or...an amateur storyteller." He added the last with a smirk. "But it is not I who determines what I possess that is of value. Each makes that determination themselves, no? Perhaps the question isn't what I have of value, but what do you consider valuable?"

"So the self is the font of value, but it can only be recognized from the outside? That is quite a conundrum we have devised for our selves. I hardly know you at all, for instance, save as a disputer, a conversationalist, a storyteller, and an admirer of my work. To be sure, these are all valuable things, but..."

"But they do not tell you who I am? No they do not. No more than one can gaze down in awe at the plight of Guigemar or Yonec and know you - for which I am eternally grateful. To know all theses things, all that make up another, they can, and should take a lifetime to learn."

He starts to rise slowly. "And if you know anything of me already, you know I am a patient and determined man."

She looked up at him with a new understanding. "I am under Her Majesty's protection, Giles de Braose. Requests and intimations must and ought to be made through her, as you well know."

Giles didn't deny his intentions, but they bpth knew the outcome of such an endeavour at this current time.

"Although a poor second son of a minor family in service to the Crown is liable to have such a request misplaced, misinterpreted or just flat out ignored. So while Her Majesty can deny my permission to love you and court you in public she has no such sway over what my heart feels and my soul desires in private."

"I just hope that Illyana doesn't find herself betrothed before Frederik is found worthy to make such a request."

"I suppose we'll find out," Marie replies. "These things are often out of the hands of those involved. I hope that, should circumstance keep us apart, you will not suffer as Tristan."

"I would suffer the fate of Tristan a thousand times over if it would spare you one breath trapped in a marriage akin to Yonec's mother. So in as much as these things are within our hands, you might not be able to choose your suitor, but one word will surely remove one if that is your wish."

Marie raised an eyebrow. "A noble offer, Giles de Braose. And a rare one." She paused. "Give me leave to consider, for a time. I hardly expected this when I came down this evening."