51Author's Note: All good things must come to an end... And, might I say, I'm a little relieved that this has. I'm going to miss it, but I'm just so glad to finally have it finished. It's, seriously, the first piece of non-one shot literature that I've actually finished. Perhaps, now, I'll have to go and finish some of my other half-written stories. First, though, the beginning of this needs some serious reworking.
So, fear not! The characters of H2WHO will not be put to rest just yet. Look out for the finalized version of this, as well as Davich: Inner Workings of a Madman. Brought to you by Beldavid the Sorcerer and myself. (Side note to Beldavid: "But I don't wanna draw the picture!")
Thank you all so much for putting up with my sporadic updating and completely nonsensical rambling in my Author's Notes. I love you guys!
Thus began the lives of those nobles as they are now known to the Court.
The princess Lavena, finally resigned to the knowledge that the gentle Sir Stephen had never belonged to her, sought to continue her existence in whatever semblance of bliss she was able. Her mourning for Stephen ceased, and she chose to wed Jonathan, Lord Earnstheart - a peculiarly suitable match, one might add.
A decade running, they have brought five healthy children into the world (none of which will see the throne, for Lavena's brother was made Crown Prince, though many years her junior, and certainly much less wise), and there is no end to their domestic serenity in sight.
However, their tale seems to be the only which has stagnated into happiness. The Lady Sisilla spent many nights thence in the bed of Sir Vyncent the Seneschal, but her presence seemed to make it grow colder, rather than provide the warmth it should have. Still, the steward propsed marriage, claiming her "the love of his life." Sisilla, with more than a little disdain, did not need to force herself to refuse, and terminated the affair outright not long after.
She sought solace among books and scholarly folk (never again stooping to warm the bed of any man), and placed herself quite aloof from the rest of the Court. That is, until a day, when one such scholarly fellow, then unfamiliar to her, approached her and bade she record the events of her strange and sordid past, for his and her own benefit, if not for posterity. But that, in itself, is an entirely different other story.
So hitherto ends the accounts of the Lady Sisilla Margaret Anabel Jane of -fief in -shire, noblewoman of His Majesty's Court, conqueror of gentlemen and, now, historian (if this can truly be deemed a history). For, while there shall always be more to tell, I have lost all joy of the telling.
Finally, it was complete. The tale had not been a simple one to record - some accounts were everything short of impossible to track down - but she had done it. Somehow, she knew she would be able to.
And so, the lady Sisilla lay aside her quill, closing the volume with weary hands. Funny, she noted, how things had turned out. A bittersweet smile lingered on her lips, as she caught a glimpse of her reflection - tired and ripened with increasing years - in the darkened window, remembering fondly those times past.
Overcome by drink and lethargy, she turned from the desk to look across the comfortable room, eyes falling upon the man who lounged in her bed. "Is that all you would have, my dear Davich?"