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dionysia-does-stories · 8 months

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My Fief for an Apple

Cringetober 2023, Day 7: Mary-Sue.

On AO3

Rating T - 1,636 words - Tortall - OC Future Fic

Summary: When Weldon's Son gets trapped in a ditch with his injured horse, Raoul and Buri's Daughter comes to their rescue.

Story:

Phillip surveyed his gelding, Bangle miserably. He was grateful at least that when they’d suddenly pitched off the road, Bangle fell in a way that he didn’t break his neck. Maybe more impressively the horse’s great body also didn’t break Phillip’s neck

While they’d survived the fall, they were both injured. Bangle had hurt his ankle. On his own he would never get out of this ditch. Phillip wasn’t of much help since his own knee was swollen and painful with what he hoped was a bad sprain.

Bangle was making awful sounds of distress. Phillip searched his saddle bag, hoping he had anything to distract the horse with, while they waited for a someone to pass by on the road. They were on the outskirts of a smaller village where the crown was hosting a jousting tournament. Eventually, someone would walk down the road. Phillip would be able to beg or bribe them for help. He just wished he could do something for his poor horse now.

“My fief for an apple,” he told the air.

An apple soared through the air, thudding into his lap with absolute precision. He turned to the the road, looking up to see a woman astride her horse. He made note of the fabric muffling her tack—that’s why he hadn’t heard her coming.

He told her, “well, I’m not giving you my fief. You’ve got more than enough land of your own.”

Phillip recognized Lady Knight Amiram of GoldenLake and Malorie’s Peak. She was probably the most recognizable knight in Tortall. She had her mother’s golden skin. The masses of curling black hair could have come from either parent, though she wore it in the braids of the Raadeh clan. Her eyes of darkest blue, like ripe winter sloe berries were what marked her as her father’s daughter. There was good humor twinkling in the depths of her eyes.

Phillip had never met her. He’d seen her at tournaments or riding with the King’s Own. She was death with a lance. The fiercest jouster in the kingdom. He’d seen her compete before, proud and confident. She was like an aspect of the Goddess herself.

There was a legend the Own told that she had killed a giant when she was just a girl. She’d strung up a trip rope at the edge of a sudden drop with a lance propped up at the bottom. Then she’d drawn the giant’s attention, getting it to chase her through the woods of Goldenlake to where she’d rigged her trap.

“What fief am I being cheated of?” She asked.

Phillip got to his feet, wincing in pain. He sketched a bow. “I’m Phillip of Cavall.”

“Ah. Of course, you are. I don’t know why I didn’t realize it sooner.”

Phillip felt a sense of pleased surprise. He’s never met Lady Amiram. She started as a page when he became a squire and so on, just missing each other. But he’d never have guessed, “You recognize me?”

The Lady blushed. “I recognize your horse.”

Phillip deflated. He made an admirable effort to hide it. “Cavalli horses are the best. I imagine someone who jousts as competitively as you do always has an eye for such things, Lady Amiram.”

She wasn’t taken back at all by his casual recognition of her. Phillip assumed that everywhere she went folks recognized her.

“Just Ama is fine.” She dismounted her horse. “Are you going to give that apple to your horse or did you make that request for yourself.”

Phillip had forgotten that he was holding the fruit. He offered it to Bangle, who pathetically munched on it. “We’ve fallen off the road and injured ourselves,” he pointed out somewhat unnecessarily. “If you wouldn’t mind helping, I’m sure we could get Bangle back on to solid ground.”

Ama looked them over, whistled. “That hole in the road sure got you.”

“Hole?” Phillip asked dumbstruck. He hadn’t seen a hole and didn’t like the idea that he could have been oblivious too it.

“Don’t berate yourself about it,” she advised him, sensing his thoughts in his tone. “The local lads have been covering it with a layer of leaves.”

Phillip saw red. “Someone deliberately did this?” His horse was whining in pain.

Ama produced a rope from her saddle bag, tying one end to her horse’s saddle.

“With all the knights visiting town for the tournament the local girls have been ignoring the local lads. And the local lads have decided to take that out on the knights. There’s little traps all over the village.”

She slid down the edge of the road into the ditch. She handed Phillip the free end of the rope. He suppressed his rage focusing on getting Bangle securely tied.

“And you know this how?” He asked.

She gave him a sideways smile. “Some of the local lads told me when I was checking in. I think their dislike of us knights only extends to you boys.”

“Ridiculous,” Phillip grumbled. “I’m hardly out here toying with girls. I don’t blow into town, bed whoever I want, and then carry on my merry way.” Phillip suddenly remembered Ama’s somewhat salacious reputation. “Not that there’s anything wrong about that, I just…”

She waited for him to pick his sentence back up but he couldn’t find the words. “My great-great-aunt Sebila, who marches on despite considerable age and infirmity, often says no man will marry me the way I, in her words, carry on like a feral cat in heat. I can never decide if it’s worse or better than the talking-tos my father got while he was a bachelor.”

“Any man would be lucky to marry you,” Phillip said with absolute conviction and completely by accident. He cursed his loose lips as she walked to the far side of Bangle.

She greeted the horse, giving him a chance to get used to her. The whole while Phillip couldn’t see her expression.

“Are you able to help push him up?” She asked.

Phillip lurched to Bangle’s other side ignoring the discomfort in his knee. “Of course.”

“Alright then.” She didn’t sound convinced. “On three.” She looked to her horse. “On three Killy.” The horse flicked his ears forward and backward in acknowledgement. The uncanny human understanding of an animal that spent time around the Wild Mage.

Ama braced herself and called, “one.” Phillip had heard other men talk about her, the beauty who could wield any weapon she got her hands on. She certainly wasn’t lacking for offers of marriage, just not accepting them. “Two.” When she was a page, she’d excelled in every subject. She done so well that her entire class was better than average for trying to keep up with her. Myles of Olau had often said “everyone runs faster to keep up with Ama of Goldenlake.” And Phillip felt like he understood why. “Three.”

Ama’s horse, Killy pulled hard at the rope as Phillip and Ama each shoved one of Bangle’s haunches. Between the four of them they got Bangle back on the road. Ama leaped up after him, reaching a hand back to Phillip. He clamored his way out of the ditch.

“It doesn’t matter,” she said, like he had any idea what she was referring to.

“What?” He asked breathless from the struggle to get on the road and the pain in his leg.

“If I never get married, it doesn’t matter,” she said. “I’m inheriting all of Goldenlake either way.

He didn’t know what the right response to that was all he could think to say was, “my sisters talk about that a lot.”

“I’ll bet,” she said with a snort. She started untying the rope from Killy. “They stood to loose Cavall to a cousin, if your parents hadn’t managed to have you.”

She moved on to untying Bangle. Her muscles were tense, as if she expected anger from him.

“I was an accident,” he announced.

She caught his gaze, shocked. “You were not.”

“I absolutely was. My mother was at an age where my parents weren’t bothering themselves about pregnancy charms anymore. Turns out it’s rather common.”

She took Phillip’s saddle bag and attached it to Killy. “A happy accident, I’m sure.”

“If you go to the law library and look at the records from when your father was petitioning to have you made heir, my father was one of his staunchest supporters.”

“You were already born then,” she said. “What did he have to gain.”

“It was the only thing my father didn’t like about not having a son. The idea that my sister’s claim to Cavall would never be seen as completely legitimate.”

“I suppose we should limp back to town. You can ride on Killy if you’d like. He’s a calm enough sort.”

Phillip was briefly seized by a manly vanity that urged him to turn down the offer. Luckily, the madness passed and he clamored onto the horse.

The ambled down the road. Ama produced another apple from her saddle bag, which she took a bite of before offering the rest to Killy.

“You’re jousting tomorrow,” he’d meant to ask it as a question (even though he knew she was.)

“I don’t think you or your horse are in any state to challenge me,” she said with a wicked smile.

“Actually, I was wondering if I could take you out to dinner.”

He enjoyed the little blush that crept along her neck. He took it as a good sign.

“There’s a banquet.”

“Skip it.”

“Alright, but I picked out a very pretty dress for this evening. If you’re going to be the only one who sees me wearing it, then you have to make it worth my time.”

Phillip never thought he’d feel lucky to have fallen into a ditch.

#Tortall Fanfiction #Tortall #protector of the small #fanfiction #cringetober 2023 #Day 7 #Mary sue #I am running behind #but at least I'm running

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the-pontiac-bandit · 3 years

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If you're still answering tortall prompts, how about Raoul + family?

wow why NOT write 2000 words of blatant, shameless fluff about families you make for yourself??? inspired by this quote from tammy: “[Raoul and Buri] have glorious sex under trees, in tents, in lakes…. In carriages. I think at some point they’ll probably adopt. By the time they’re attached Buri’s getting a little old to have any of her own. It’s not like there aren’t plenty of orphans around.”

As Raoul stretched out, trying to make himself comfortable in his too-hard, too-small desk chair, he savored the warm feeling filling his chest and threatening to spill out and take physical form in front of him. In the midst of the most head-spinning, headache-inducing, sleep-sapping, joy-filled week he’d ever experienced, he’d had precious little time to slow down and simply exist within his new reality. He thought to close his eyes, the better to feel everything, but they only stayed shut for a moment before they forced themselves back open. He couldn’t stop looking at the scene in front of him for long.

Buri lounged cross-legged on their bed, far more relaxed than he had been at any point this week. Kel sat next to her, her back straight and her long legs carefully hanging off one side so as not to get dust from the practice courts on their bedding. Both had just returned from a full morning of training, sweaty despite a change of clothes and coated in dust despite a thorough washing, courtesy of a long, hot summer that had refused to give them rain.

Between them was the baby.

His son, he reminded himself. He thought the words a few extra times, even mouthing them once, as he had a thousand times in the last five days, as if forming them on his lips might make them feel more real.

None of this felt real to him yet. He supposed most people had nine months to get used to the idea before seven pounds of screaming chaos turned their lives upside down. He’d had exactly fifty-three days—he’d counted on Tuesday—so he supposed he still had some catching up to do. His mind was still reeling from the conversation that had led them here, and he wasn’t sure yet that he’d ever catch up.

He’d been sitting in this chair and pretending to read reports while mostly thinking about his right knee, which had been bothering him despite Duke Baird’s best efforts. He wasn’t sure why he remembered so specifically, since his days were nearly as certain to contain aches and bruises as they were to contain a sunrise. Buri had returned from a meeting with Thayet and Onua, although really, the word meeting conferred far too much dignity on what was more likely a combination of trick riding and palace gossip. They’d settled into the evening routine they’d shared for nearly a decade, working in comfortable silence with candles lit between them.

“Do you want children?” she’d asked, breaking the quiet spell of paperwork that gripped their nights.

“I think it’s a little late for that,” he’d replied with a snort.

She’d thrown a pillow at him. He had caught it and thrown it back without even looking up from the thick stack of papers in his lap, with a rude hand gesture following behind.

“You know what I meant. Did you want children? Before?”

Something in her voice had shifted. He’d finally looked up to find her eyes already trained on him. Her face had been so unexpectedly earnest that he’d actually taken a pause, had slowed the speed of their consistently paced banter, to think.

“I suppose I hadn’t given it much thought. There were friends, and then there was drinking, and then there was the Own, and then there was you,” he’d told her with a shrug. “I do like children, but I’m perfectly happy where I am.”

She’d chewed on her lip for a moment. He remembered being surprised by that. After nearly thirty years of friendship, she rarely took the time to think before she spoke with him anymore.

“Spit it out.”

“Do you want children?”

“And we’re back to the start,” he’d said with a grin.

“I spat it out. Now you answer it.”

“Hypothetically, sure, I’d enjoy a child. Now can I ask why you’re asking at all?”

“I’ve been thinking,” she’d started. She’d paused for a moment, holding her breath as though she was trying to decide whether she should speak at all. And then she’d let it all spill out at once. “I’ve been thinking it might be nice to have one. A child, I mean.”

She’d held up a hand and made a face before Raoul could even begin to formulate a joke about her monthlies or her aching hips or what they might do to make that happen. “Not like that. Thayet was telling us today about homes they’re opening in Corus, for children without parents. We were thinking about the children we traveled with back in Sarain, when Alanna found us all those years ago. Gods, it was terrifying, having Thayet and an infant to protect, especially when Thayet was ready to throw her life away for the infant. And I started thinking—we have money, and safety, and love, and there are all these children who have none of those things, and—”

She’d been speaking faster and faster, but she’d cut herself off abruptly at the look on Raoul’s face. “Never mind, you can forget—”

Raoul had smiled back at her, straightening up in his chair and marking his spot in the report on his lap before putting it aside. “So you want a child.”

The weeks that followed had been ones filled with paperwork and inquiries at the palace records about the process of appointing a common-born heir to a noble house and at the magistrate’s about drawing up paperwork for adoption. There had been careful planning and hushed discussions with only their closest friends about the best way to proceed. Buri had insisted on an older child, maybe eight or nine, saying that the few diapers she’d changed on the road to Rachia were enough for a lifetime.

Instead, five days ago, Buri had entered their rooms carrying a squalling mess of blankets with an air of forced nonchalance that had told him immediately what she’d done. Instead of clarifying, or teasing her, or asking if it was the smallest eight-year-old he’d ever seen, he’d simply held his arms out. While Buri had supplied endless explanations about Thayet ambushing her with a baby, he’d stared at the squirming mess of baby in his lap, blankets already coming undone, absolutely entranced.

“He’s tiny,” he’d commented. His voice sounded like it was coming from someone else’s body. The baby was only just too large for him to hold in one hand, although he’d never try to prove it. The fragility of the life sitting in his lap was overwhelming.

“His mother died yesterday. Childbed fever, caught too late to help. The priestesses at the Goddess’ Temple were worried he might need more than the homes could give.”

Raoul had nodded, only half listening. The baby’s eyes were screwed shut while he wailed. His fine hair was dark, his skin tanned like that of the Bazhir babies Raoul had seen in his year in the Great Southern Desert. One of the baby’s hands had broken free of its blanket. It had waved in the air, keeping pace with his cries, which were far louder than he’d have believed such a tiny body could produce. He’d intercepted the hand with one finger and then watched in wonder as the baby had grasped it.

“Does he have a name?”

“Pathom,” she’d answered definitively, before belatedly remembering that names were the sort of thing parents might choose together. “That is, if—”

“Pathom of Goldenlake,” he’d cut her off with a smile.

The days that followed had been a blur. Thayet had found a wet-nurse and supplied an endless stream of goods that they’d have never known a baby required. Alanna had ridden in from Pirate’s Swoop at full speed to pronounce in a gruff voice that the infant was in perfect health. Gary had gifted them a bassinet and more blankets than any human child could possibly need. Dom had found a way to convert a standard-issue burnoose into an excellent baby sling, while Evin had given them a congratulatory note from George, who complained that Alanna had left before he could finish writing, and a cheerful promise that he’d never touch a soiled diaper. Onua had given them a set of unimaginably soft stuffed ponies, perfect replicas of the horses that roamed the highlands of Sarain where she and Buri had learned to ride.

Kel, away on business with Second Company at the Gallan border, had to wait almost a full week to learn she had a new godsson. He’d met the company when they’d arrived back at the palace long past dark the night before. They’d groomed Hoshi and Sparrow together while he thanked the gods for perhaps the hundredth time that her “testy pony” had finally found his way out of the Own stables and into a pleasant retirement.

Finally, when the last of the men had trudged towards the barracks and a well-earned nights’ sleep, she’d turned to him.

“Well?”

“There’s someone important I want you to meet,” he’d said, shoving his hands in his pockets with a smile that was equal parts nervous and eager.

“Sir, I’ve already met your wife.”

Raoul had let out a hearty chuckle. “But you haven’t met my son.”

Kel had frozen. Her face fell back into perfect stillness, the way it did when her mind was working its fastest.

After a second that felt like an eternity, she replied, “Sir, I saw Buri five weeks ago. If you’re telling me you’ve managed to grow a baby since then—”

“We didn’t, but someone else did. We adopted him from the Temple after his mother died in childbirth.”

Understanding flashed in Kel’s eyes while her face broke into a rare broad grin. She’d wrapped her arms around him in a fast, tight hug accompanied by enthusiastic congratulations that had gone suddenly silent in surprise when he’d added, a wicked glint in his eyes, “You really should come by tomorrow to meet your godsson.”

Buri had intercepted Kel on the practice courts the following morning with the dual goals of keeping her own skills sharp and ensuring that Kel would not be too polite to visit. And so now, he watched as Kel bounced his son with the brisk certainty of someone who had held a baby a thousand times. He could hear her cooing quietly at Pathom, softening her consonants while she told him all about forest campaigns in hill country. He knew he should ask her to speak up—if she was going to give her report verbally, she could at least give it at a volume he could hear—but he found he wasn’t particularly interested in the intricacies of the Second’s bowstring supplies. Buri made eye contact with him behind Kel’s back, laughter in her eyes. Buri could laugh if she wanted, but he was taking notes on Kel’s tactics. He would have sworn this was the quietest he’d heard his son in the entirety of his hundred-and-twenty-odd hours in the palace.

As his son stared wide-eyed at his former squire, Raoul was reminded of a comment he’d heard as they’d left Turomot’s offices the other day with paperwork making Pathom officially their own. “Well, that feckless Goldenlake dolt’s managed to start a family, even if it was too late to do the thing properly,” the Lord of Genlith had muttered at their backs as they’d left. Buri had elbowed him and whispered a quick “Feckless? I’ll show him feckless,” but her heart wasn’t in it. Before she’d even finished the thought, her eyes were back on Pathom, squirming against her chest in the burnoose that bound him to her.

And now, Raoul watched his son, passed between his wife and the woman who had been like his daughter long before any papers said he was a father. Stuffed Saren ponies lined the shelf above an intricately carved bassinet filled with beautifully embroidered blankets. A protection charm had been pulled from Alanna’s packs to hang at the head, while twin leather circles bearing the insignias of the Riders and the Own, no doubt carefully cut by mischievous commanders from the saddle packs of some unprepared trainees, was secured carefully at the foot. Raoul had to smile for a moment at Genlith’s ignorance—he’d begun his family right on time.

#carrie answers #my writing #anonymous #raoul of goldenlake and malorie's peak #raoul of goldenlake #buriram tourakom #tortall #tamora pierce #protector of the small #keladry of mindelan #okay we've got all the found family shit in here #the friends? check #the surrogate daughter? check #adoption? check #also who said a baby can't have three godsmothers definitely not buri and raoul #also on ao3

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sheshallfromtimetotime · 3 years

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Chapters: 5/5 Fandom: Tortall - Tamora Pierce Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Alanna of Pirate's Swoop and Olau/George Cooper, Alanna of Pirate's Swoop and Olau & Thayet jian Wilima, Alanna of Pirate's Swoop and Olau & Eleni Cooper, Alanna of Pirate's Swoop and Olau & Jonathan of Conté Characters: Alanna of Pirate's Swoop and Olau, Eleni Cooper, Jonathan of Conté, Thayet jian Wilima, Buriram Tourakom, George Cooper, Raoul of Goldenlake and Malorie's Peak, Alanna of Pirate's Swoop and Olau & Raoul of Goldenlake and Malorie's Peak - Character Additional Tags: Weddings, Friendship, Family, Love Summary:

Alanna and George do some talking -- and planning -- after Myles and Eleni's wedding.

Now with a (very short, but hopefully sweet) Raoul chapter!

#Rachel writes #fic #Tortall #Tamora Pierce #Alanna the Lioness #Raoul of Goldenlake and Malorie's Peak #Rachel can have little a validation as a treat?

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raoulgoldenlake · 5 years

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Day 3: Favorite Male Character

30 Days of Tamora Pierce

Raoul! From what I’ve seen, Raoul grew up the best of all the Song of the Lioness group, and seems to have facilitated long-term change in Tortall. He’s also friendly, slow to anger, well-liked, probably gay. Am I projecting? Yes. He’s my emotional support fantasy side character.

#raoul of goldenlake and malorie's peak #raoul of goldenlake #tortall #30 days of tamora pierce

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metapianycist · 5 years

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i did not know until tonight that i needed gay raoul of goldenlake fanfiction but here we are

#metapianycist original post #raoul of goldenlake and malorie's peak

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kadmeread · 3 years

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Okay so, I’ve been thinking a bit about the Protector of the Small Quartet again, (Love that series, so much.) And one thing I want to know is why aren’t there more headcanons of Raoul adopting Kel? I mean we all know she’s basically a daughter to him, and most people think she’ll become his successor in the King’s Own, if not Training Master. And it’s not like there isn’t already a precedent set for it in the world of Tortall, what with Myles adopting Alanna and all. It just makes sense to me, Raoul is lord of two fiefs, Goldenlake and Malorie’s Peak. Malorie’s Peak was his original fiefdom, and he was given Goldenlake later for services to the crown. He doesn’t have any children of his own to inherit them, he could have family who will inherit Malorie’s Peak, but it could be really cool if he adopted Kel and made her heir to his position as Lord of Goldenlake. I know he and Buri and now married, but do you really see them having any kids at this point in time? They have the Own and the Riders for that. And on Kel’s side she’s the youngest of seven I think it was, with little money etc, and little chance of being in the line of succession. She has the possibility of being given lands by the Crown due to her heroism, but I don’t see that happening any time soon, at least not til Roald is King. The only possible argument against it would be that Kel loves her parents and they love her, but honestly at the point in time they are at I think Kel is closer with Raoul than her parents, just through distance. Raoul was one of the first to fully get her to loosen up, and fully accept her instantly. I mean he had had practise with Alanna, and I am not at all saying Neal didn’t do anything, but Kel is comfortable with him, the way she is with few others, and willing to drop her Yamani mask, and tease and joke with him. Kel’s parents are good people, I fully believe that knowing they would struggle to continue providing for her and knowing that she would still also be their daughter they would be willing to share her, and allow her to further her position in life and influence so many more. Thus why I believe Raoul should either have adopted Kel, or have plans too.

#keladry of mindelan #raoul of malorie's peak and goldenlake #protector of the small #tortall #headcanon #look #i'm sorry for #the splurge #but these are my thoughts #and i stand by them #and i am not dissing #neal's friendship with kel #i love that friendship #but she and raoul #have a strong bond too #hope this all makes sense

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