Leaving -- Again. Paris & Ewen.
[S: What do _you_ want the events of that week to be like? Ewen is yours, after all. We don't _have_ to put an "edge" on things. But ... Ewen's reactions to Paris having missed LongNight and to her return sure seem to indicate that _he's_ enough on edge that _something_ should spill over during this week.]
[GM: I've always had the feeling that Ewen shouldn't be Paris' lifelong love, just because we did that with Itochu/Eleri. :) Of course, I also don't see how I could turn things around so that Jules became her intended; not without killing Lorraine. [Ouch! Okay, Paris, I'll stay away from your friend! Just put that sword down gently, gently...] Prince William is out of the picture, and you don't seem like Martin's type. You could kill Catherine and marry Louis I suppose... not. It is getting a little late to introduce a new love interest. Ewen seems to be stuck with the job. :) :)]
[S: I've spent time wondering about that too. We raked Paris over so many coals (oh, all right-- a great many Real Girl vs. Serious conversations) en route to getting her to the point where she was willing to risk a romance, that I started wondering how on earth you intended to get her out of it. I agree that having done love-at-first-sight (from the point of view of the other players) with Eleri and Itochu, it didn't seem quite right to do the same with Paris and Ewen. (The fact that the two pairs actually got to the same point (the enchantment of kissing) from rather different routes will never be seen by the other players.) We must be careful not to be perceived as falling into patterns as GMs, I think. Otherwise the other players will find this kind of off-camera story as boring as Steve always has.]
[GM: [chuckle] This campaign has been nothing but old patterns, I don't worry about one more. :) No one is playing this for my original take on the Tarot. :) It also wasn't love at first sight, although that is also something that the other players won't know. (I still treasure the "Ewen was flirting with me!" e-mail. ) It actually makes rereading the tale of Paris' first week in the palace rather touching. So, don't worry about other players. No, I originally thought Ewen would only be the first of many just because that is the usual way of things. I should have had you play the field more in class. :) Suuuure, Paris playing the field-- Lorraine would really have had her work cut out for her. :)
What I mean is, that's what I was trying to figure out. Should Ewen be Paris' lifelong love? Or should he simply drift away, becoming only a friend? What is your feeling there?]
[S: My feeling is that you need to decide what -- in his depths -- motivates Ewen. Itochu and Paris have a lot in common. Never having known 'Love' before, once committed, are likely to stay committed for life -- tragedy or no. If Ewen also falls into that mode, then he's not likely to let Paris go and she will respond to that commitment.]
[GM: Ewen has the internal tension of wanting adventure, wanting to make a name for himself, and the deep-felt responsibility to his family and their land. Young enough to want something different for himself. Paris is different; is adventure, and much more. So Paris sort of satisfies both sides of him. However, he has known love before-- the first crush on one of the older girls, a couple of other infatuations that lasted a season or so.]
[S: However, if he can realize that he is attracted to other 'more suitable' women as well, that 'steel and fire and magic' can take different forms for him, then he will simply drift away. He has straddled that line heretofore. The episode at LongNight should have pushed him over that, made him wonder if his infatuation for _this_ form of 'steel and fire and magic' was, in fact, good for him. As Itochu tried after that First Argument, Ewen could have convinced himself to 'go on forever without her'', persuading himself that he had imagined a great deal of the 'steel, fire, and magic' (which, unlike Itochu, he has, by and large). And Giselle could catch him on the rebound.]
[GM: Yes, the 'natural' thing is to become more attracted to the person that is near than the person who is far away. ("When you're not near the one you love, love the one you're with" as the old song goes.) If Paris is absent enough, I suppose it will happen. I suspect Ewen would always wonder, though. :)]
[GM: There is still the option of a tragic ending for Paris, making all of this moot, but I think you don't want that.]
[S: No, I don't really like tragic endings. But if it is necessary to prevent the other players from thinking 'same old, same old', I'd be willing to go through with it. I was, after all, willing to let Moon Flower and Eleri -- either or both -- be sacrificed if the players made that sort of choice. (I think I kept you guessing almost up to the end as to whether or no you'd make the right decisions...?) It makes good story if, perhaps, a tad depressing. Well, a lot depressing. But, as role players, you and I would both survive it. :-) And, of course, if the dice say tragic....]
[S: Yes, you'd said all along that Ewen was not supposed to be Paris' life-long love. But, somehow, the way you've been playing him, you've forgotten to tell him that. :-) If there was to have been a 'turn around' for Jules and Paris, it should have happened long ago, presumably shortly after he rescued her from his mother's machinations and before Lorraine had completely set her heart on him. (Though she may have set her heart on him from the first. I do recall that early on she would not bring either Jules or Ewen up when sounding Paris out.) Now you are right; both Lorraine and Jules seem to have grown up and into each other's hopes and dreams in a healthy way.
For a while you had the Players convinced that Paris was destined for William -- albeit that would be almost pure Fantasy Hero. You never reminded them as you did me that royal princes tend to make political marriages. And they've mostly never noticed that Sheryl characters require _some_ rationale before they allow themselves to fall in love. I suspect that for a time you actually toyed with having William waiting in the wings for Paris, but it does not surprise me that the reality of the storyline dictated otherwise. I recall a few nasty twists my storyline forced on me that I hadn't foreseen. :-) Simply because that was the way it would have happened. Certainly killing off William polarized the situation for the players as well as for the NPCs. That polarization makes the PCs' lives a bit easier and the play less muddled. I suspect that is why you did it, given we tend to be muddled anyway. Not but what Paris is not yet _sure_ that William is dead. After all, he did tell her not to believe. It's just hard for her not to slip back and forth between hope and guilt. There is really nothing but his word to build hope on.
Back to Ewen. I think I've said this before: how this story line goes will depend a lot on how you play Ewen. If Ewen refuses to believe that he's Not The One, then Paris will have to decide. And her decision will be based on whether or no Ewen is the sort of person that can deal with the fact that her first oath is to Prince William and her Order, not to her husband. Her husband will never be able to order her around the way a normal medieval husband would expect to be able to. He must be willing to submit (the way a normal wife must submit) to the fact that Paris' first loyalty belongs to the Throne. And if she rejects Louis and decides that Justice requires that she stay loyal to William's version of the Throne, then her husband has to contend with the fact that his wife is an outlaw. Pretty tough stuff.]
[And so we let the characters take over....]
"Later," he grinned. "Later."
The dance floor, too, had a trace of the nightmare quality. The last time she had been in this ballroom had been the Harvest Ball. The wonderful, exhilarating Harvest Ball. Where she and Ewen had discovered kissing. And where she had, ah, it had been the last time she had seen William with unalloyed joy. This night -- there were moments when the dancing went effortlessly -- that she had to blink to dispel the image of William that rose between her and whomever was partnering her so well. But William was dead. Something would catch in her throat and the moment would be gone, the dancing ordinary. Even thinking that dancing could be 'ordinary' nearly brought tears.
Paris shook herself. Perhaps it was the earlier conversation with Lorraine, while they were getting ready. Lorraine had dropped for a moment back into that odd mood of tentativeness. "You know why," she'd asked, "the Baroness deLacey has been inviting other ladies to Ewen's attention, don't you, Paris?" Paris had looked at her friend, tipping her head with a slight frown of puzzled inquiry. "It's not, I don't think, because she didn't like you. It's just, well, now that Ewen's a knight -- and going out on dangerous quests and all -- well, she thinks it's time he was, well, setting up his nursery. It's - it's not uncommon, you know." Lorraine looked at her friend with some concern.
Paris had felt momentarily like a fish out of water. Lorraine said softly, "You need to think about it, you know," and then went back to her normal chatter.
Paris' mind whirled. She knew enough about the customs of the court to realize that such a hint had deliberate significance. And that Lorraine was worried enough about her to think she needed a hint. The brush snagged in her curls and she gave it a jerk that brought tears to her eyes.
An uncomfortable start to an evening that wasn't supposed to have been uncomfortable. The court was no longer in mourning for William; she shouldn't be a damper. And she'd had that good day with Ewen and his family. For a few hours she had forgotten about William. But - Ewen - and family - in his natural environment: why did it trouble her so?
As the festivities wound down and Paris bid her friends farewell preparatory to going up to change, Lorraine said, "The storm's gotten worse, Paris, and you've not really recovered. Can you spend the night?"
Paris flushed slightly, conscious that she'd never yet spent a night in the palace. "My brother will be expecting me, Lorraine, thank you nonetheless."
Ewen spoke up. "Sir Paris? As it would relieve your friends," he smiled at Lorraine, " to know you safe this bitter night, allow me to escort you home."
Paris felt her eyebrows lift slightly, but Ewen's smile was so engaging. "Sir Ewen, I would not mind the company at all. Thank you."
Paris had not ridden to the palace that evening. She had been trying to spare her horse, Beaujolais, as much as possible to aid in his recovery from their harsh winter trek. Thus it was that Sir Paris and Sir Ewen found themselves trudging through the quiet snowfall. Ewen led his horse, the big black one, bulky under its blankets, as they walked through the snow dusted street. [He would ride it back, of course.]
Ewen smiled. "I'd the feeling that you'd left your horse behind. You are harder on yourself than you are on him, I think."
Paris grinned back. "This winter has been harder on him than he deserves. A person can understand; a horse must merely suffer. I would cause as little suffering as possible."
Ewen's voice took on a queer note as he reached out and caught her hand. "How about causing a little less suffering to yourself? You count too, you know."
Paris tried to maneuver her gloved hand to where it could give his a reassuring squeeze. "I don't get hurt on purpose, you know, Ewen," she smiled at him. "It just comes with the territory, I guess." The smile slipped a bit and a furrow appeared between her eyes. More softly, "I fear I have caused you far more suffering than I would want, and I don't know what to do about it...."
Paris couldn't find her voice for a moment, then with more composure than she'd expected, she managed, "I'm a knight, Ewen, a sworn knight. And I have a quest to complete. A quest that will take who-knows how much more time."
He was quiet for a moment; this was, it seemed, the heart of the matter. "That's what I've been wanting to ask you. Do you, do you have any idea of how much more time?"
Concern creased her brows. "Given that I thought it would take but a month to reach Temperance and come back, I am a poor judge of time, Ewen. I have been on this Quest -- almost without knowing it -- from the night the Change happened. If we - if I - had understood its importance and not dawdled, perhaps - perhaps Prince Louis would not have done as much as he has already. Perhaps the Quest would be done. Perhaps. But I - we are only two-thirds through the Quest. And it has taken the better part of a year. There are seven more Major Arcana's we must find. And we do not yet know where to look for any of those, save, perhaps, the last. So... how should I answer you? It took three months on Temperance's quest and we have yet to finish it. Will it take merely half a year for the final seven? Or will it take three months each? They do not conceive of time as we do, I think. They certainly do not live time as we do. And each day that I am no nearer to the end of the Quest, I fear that I have inadvertently caused more death and destruction. The only thing worse than the news Duke Evan gave me this time is to not succeed in this Quest before death and destruction ride through Westmore. I now know to fear that, like I never did before." She blinked back tears. "How should I answer you, Ewen? I want this Quest over with tomorrow, but I must follow it if it takes me to the end of my life. It is that important to what I believe in."
Trying to recover herself, Paris spoke softly, "You and I are the dearest of friends -- and we will be until death. Time and distance will never make me feel less happy to see you when I come home, Ewen. But -- it is for each of us to do what is required. I have my knightly duties -- to my Prince, to the Quest. You -- have your knightly duties -- to the Duke, to your barony." She took a deep breath. "Ewen, you know you need someone -- some lady -- who can be part of the barony, someone whose chosen profession does not fret you into flinders each time she goes out to practise it, someone whose 'magic' is yours and yours alone, someone who does not disappear off the face of the earth for weeks and months, who can help you be the best baron and knight you can be, who is there when you need her." She hesitated, suddenly afraid of what she was offering but needing to let him be free, "No one can replace what you are to me. I -- care deeply for you. But I am none of those things." Softly, "And I think you know that. True?"
He shook his head. "You are fire and steel. And magic. I don't want anything less." He stopped her, pulling her to face him. "But if you keep going off, if you have no place for me on your quests, my father will crawl out of his drunken stupor one day long enough to order me to marry. I feel guilty when I look at my mother, and as guilty about you when I look at one of the girls she brings by." His voice picked up, tenseness and anger filling it, but he kept, barely, from shouting. "Isn't there anyone in this damned world that could help you? Must you do it all yourself? Isn't there anyone that you need?"
Paris put her hand on his shoulder, wanting to touch his face, but not wanting to with her icy-damp glove. Her voice shook with emotion, upset to have so upset him, shamed that he should believe her so self-sufficient. "I have taken every ounce of help that I could, Ewen! I have used whatever and whoever was available. I am alive because you were willing to help me. I have skill because Prince William was willing to help me. Nothing in this Quest would have or could have been accomplished by me, Paris, alone. And at times when I have felt it would have been better done without me, others have helped me to know better: my brother, Rhori, even you, Ewen, that last night in Gillian town. Every single person who has quested with me I have needed. And I have needed some who did not come. I am nothing by myself, Ewen. I need you all! You, the Gryphons, William and Carline, Westmore. All. Far, far more than anyone ever needed me." Her voice nearly broke.
"No," he interrupted, one hand still clamped tightly on her wrist. "Not more than anyone needed you. That's not possible."
A sob caught in her throat and the stinging in her eyes had become pronounced. "But I can only take what is offered. I have taken your Duke's herald, his padre's assistant, his artificer's apprentice, his horses -- and one of his knights -- when they have been available. And I have taken anyone else who volunteered their help. I thank God for such assistance. But it is not mine by right, Ewen, though I have needed it. Why would you think that I do not need help? I do not wish to die."
She caught her breath, torn between her need and what she had thought he needed. "If - if you are saying that you want to quest with me.... If ... if it is right and proper, then... I would accept. I know your worth as a comrade in arms... and as a friend."
His grip loosened from its painful clamp on her wrist, and his arm went around her waist, partway only because of the thick bundle of cloak. "As I know your worth," he whispered as he bent to kiss her. Behind him, the big black snorted in the cold air, two fountains of steam exhaled from its nose.
[S: With lines like you gave Ewen, Pat, how can Paris _not_ invite him to come questing?]
[GM: Well, he appreciates the invite, that's for sure. But we all know the Duke won't permit it. Not until either Justin is on the wagon, er, mend, or until they know if his younger brother would be a suitable heir. However, it will get you out of this scene. :)]
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