Excellent. Take the time to let it work before you do anything that might be too difficult at the moment.
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Huzzah! It'll be great having you back, stynlan, but more than anything it is simply wonderful to know things look to be on the mend. Excellent news! 
It was a pleasent surprise to see you drop by in my AAR again, and I can only say, take your time. This stuff takes its toll and it's unfortunately very easy to, as we say in Holland, "take too much hay on your fork" during a good period and relapse rather heavily.
So, take it easy, don't add too much on your load. Best of wishes!
So, take it easy, don't add too much on your load. Best of wishes!
Lewis,
Great to hear you're getting back to sorts! Still praying, but it's promising news.
I'll look forward to anything you write, or to any comments you might leave. Thanks for dropping by Castles!
Rensslaer
Great to hear you're getting back to sorts! Still praying, but it's promising news.
I'll look forward to anything you write, or to any comments you might leave. Thanks for dropping by Castles!
Rensslaer
It's a Huzzah to hear things are on the upswing for you, my friend, and another for finding you back on the boards.
Draco Rexus: It's a Huzzah to hear things are on the upswing for you, my friend, and another for finding you back on the boards.
aye, that it is ! !
aye, that it is ! !
All First off I want to thank everyone for their kind words during my recent difficulties. As I have said elsewhere and previously, I have found these fora to be a place of community, a place where great-hearted people gather, and place of friendships.
Secondly, I have today completed the next update of this story. It is my intention to either post it later tonight or tomorrow. I frankly have no idea how frequent updates to this AAR will be - whenever the mood takes me, I suspect. My main focus, at the moment, remains on my CK AAR and its less fraught tale. But this story has also been much on my mind, and there are things I want to tell, so I have decided to go ahead and tell them as they take me. Be prepared, however, for lengthy breaks between updates.
Secondly, I have today completed the next update of this story. It is my intention to either post it later tonight or tomorrow. I frankly have no idea how frequent updates to this AAR will be - whenever the mood takes me, I suspect. My main focus, at the moment, remains on my CK AAR and its less fraught tale. But this story has also been much on my mind, and there are things I want to tell, so I have decided to go ahead and tell them as they take me. Be prepared, however, for lengthy breaks between updates.
The Past (14th July 1682) - Continued
Father stands before the statuette of the Virgin. There is a slight hunch to his shoulders. He leans forward and one hand reaches out to the niche. His fingers brush the base of the plinth. He closes his eyes and his lips move. He stays this way, a tableaux in time.
Henri does not notice Father’s intimate action. He sits on a bench, his hands in his lap, his head bowed as if he is seeking some meaning in the geometric patterns in the polished marble floor. At his shoulder Pierre is an utter contrast, standing straight. His eyes constantly flick about the hall, as he tracks the ebb and flow of functionaries. He spies the two guards that have been set to watch us, and his hand drifts to his waist. It hovers there a moment. His fist clenches. He shifts his weight from one foot to the other, but his eyes always return to study Father.
I am a little apart, slumped in a corner. I feign weariness, and let a loud sigh escape my lips as I try to wriggle my way further into the wall. I breathe heavily, letting the air whistle in my nose. All the while I watch the corridor with half-lidded eyes. I try not to look at Father, but I am too aware of Him, of His presence. In another place it might suffocate, here it only demands I take note. What lesson is He trying to teach me now? He holds his pose, and occasions some whispers from the passing officials. He waits, I am sure, until he has been seen often enough to be remembered. For a moment his body seems to sag, but the next his entire frame stiffens. His hunch melts into uncertain memory, and his face sharpens. The lines of elderly care seem alive with a new vigour and his eyes burn bright.
So caught am I with this transformation I only just see Carlos approaching with the clerk trailing in his wake. With a jerk I propel myself from the wall. Pierre and Henri both turn to me at my sudden motion, but Father turns away to see my friend. Carlos’ face breaks into a smile and he sweeps into a long, elaborate bow.
“My Lord de Fontenay, it is truly an honour to meet such an accomplished man as yourself, and be in a position able to offer some small assistance to such an august personage. My Lord the Duke of Milan will see you and your companions forthwith and without further delay, and he begs your forgiveness for the tardiness of his officials, and regrets that your name has so quickly been forgotten in these halls.”
“May I present Carlos de Aranda,” I interject as he draws breath.
Father’s lips twitch. “That is a most fulsome greeting,” He says. “I must be a disappointment.” Carlos opens his mouth to object, but Father orders, “Lead on!”
Carlos stops a moment. A look of calculation enters his eyes, and flees almost immediately to be replaced by a look of happy welcome. “Certainly Your Excellency, please follow me.”
He takes us straight to the Duke of Milan’s study. “The French Ambassador, Your Grace,” he announces. Father strides forward, followed first by Henri, and then by Pierre and myself. As I pass Carlos he falls into step beside me.
The Duke is standing behind his desk. Father executes a swift, precise, bow, and holds out an elaborate scroll. “I present my credentials, Your Grace.”
The Duke takes the document, and places it on the table. “So, they brought you out of retirement?”
“Apparently my past misdeeds are remembered still,” Father answers, his tone flat.
“And your predecessor? I had hoped to have a personal conversation with him.”
“Alas, the Comte d’Artois has been recalled most urgently to Paris. He has already had to take his leave at the express command of His Most Catholic Majesty. He begged me to apologise for this indecent haste,” he pauses, “but we go where His Majesty wills.”
“Rushed.” Father inclines his head, but offers nothing. “My friend, never would I doubt you…”
“And nor shall you now,” Father says, interrupting our host. “I am certain any proof you require will be forthcoming in the next few weeks.”
The Duke blinks, and looks at us. “You are keeping the same staff?”
“For the moment. I expect to be replaced here in Madrid, though there are matters there we can discuss at greater leisure at a more appropriate time.”
“No doubt.” The Duke smiles. “It is good to see you again my friend.” I hear Henri exhale a pent-up breath. “Perhaps we can have dinner tomorrow?”
“I will look forward to it.”
“As will I. Carlos, please show our guests out and then return to me. I have a duty for you.”
“Of course Your Grace,” de Aranda says, bowing.
As we walk back down the stairs Henri trips. He begins to fall, but Philippe and I manage to catch him. He appears only half-awake, and his head lolls back against his shoulders. With difficulty we walk him back to the coach. “Look after him when we return,” He says to Philippe. “It has been a difficult day for him.” He turns to me, “And tonight Jean, I think we will go out somewhere for dinner.”
I nod. What else can I do?
Father stands before the statuette of the Virgin. There is a slight hunch to his shoulders. He leans forward and one hand reaches out to the niche. His fingers brush the base of the plinth. He closes his eyes and his lips move. He stays this way, a tableaux in time.
Henri does not notice Father’s intimate action. He sits on a bench, his hands in his lap, his head bowed as if he is seeking some meaning in the geometric patterns in the polished marble floor. At his shoulder Pierre is an utter contrast, standing straight. His eyes constantly flick about the hall, as he tracks the ebb and flow of functionaries. He spies the two guards that have been set to watch us, and his hand drifts to his waist. It hovers there a moment. His fist clenches. He shifts his weight from one foot to the other, but his eyes always return to study Father.
I am a little apart, slumped in a corner. I feign weariness, and let a loud sigh escape my lips as I try to wriggle my way further into the wall. I breathe heavily, letting the air whistle in my nose. All the while I watch the corridor with half-lidded eyes. I try not to look at Father, but I am too aware of Him, of His presence. In another place it might suffocate, here it only demands I take note. What lesson is He trying to teach me now? He holds his pose, and occasions some whispers from the passing officials. He waits, I am sure, until he has been seen often enough to be remembered. For a moment his body seems to sag, but the next his entire frame stiffens. His hunch melts into uncertain memory, and his face sharpens. The lines of elderly care seem alive with a new vigour and his eyes burn bright.
So caught am I with this transformation I only just see Carlos approaching with the clerk trailing in his wake. With a jerk I propel myself from the wall. Pierre and Henri both turn to me at my sudden motion, but Father turns away to see my friend. Carlos’ face breaks into a smile and he sweeps into a long, elaborate bow.
“My Lord de Fontenay, it is truly an honour to meet such an accomplished man as yourself, and be in a position able to offer some small assistance to such an august personage. My Lord the Duke of Milan will see you and your companions forthwith and without further delay, and he begs your forgiveness for the tardiness of his officials, and regrets that your name has so quickly been forgotten in these halls.”
“May I present Carlos de Aranda,” I interject as he draws breath.
Father’s lips twitch. “That is a most fulsome greeting,” He says. “I must be a disappointment.” Carlos opens his mouth to object, but Father orders, “Lead on!”
Carlos stops a moment. A look of calculation enters his eyes, and flees almost immediately to be replaced by a look of happy welcome. “Certainly Your Excellency, please follow me.”
He takes us straight to the Duke of Milan’s study. “The French Ambassador, Your Grace,” he announces. Father strides forward, followed first by Henri, and then by Pierre and myself. As I pass Carlos he falls into step beside me.
The Duke is standing behind his desk. Father executes a swift, precise, bow, and holds out an elaborate scroll. “I present my credentials, Your Grace.”
The Duke takes the document, and places it on the table. “So, they brought you out of retirement?”
“Apparently my past misdeeds are remembered still,” Father answers, his tone flat.
“And your predecessor? I had hoped to have a personal conversation with him.”
“Alas, the Comte d’Artois has been recalled most urgently to Paris. He has already had to take his leave at the express command of His Most Catholic Majesty. He begged me to apologise for this indecent haste,” he pauses, “but we go where His Majesty wills.”
“Rushed.” Father inclines his head, but offers nothing. “My friend, never would I doubt you…”
“And nor shall you now,” Father says, interrupting our host. “I am certain any proof you require will be forthcoming in the next few weeks.”
The Duke blinks, and looks at us. “You are keeping the same staff?”
“For the moment. I expect to be replaced here in Madrid, though there are matters there we can discuss at greater leisure at a more appropriate time.”
“No doubt.” The Duke smiles. “It is good to see you again my friend.” I hear Henri exhale a pent-up breath. “Perhaps we can have dinner tomorrow?”
“I will look forward to it.”
“As will I. Carlos, please show our guests out and then return to me. I have a duty for you.”
“Of course Your Grace,” de Aranda says, bowing.
As we walk back down the stairs Henri trips. He begins to fall, but Philippe and I manage to catch him. He appears only half-awake, and his head lolls back against his shoulders. With difficulty we walk him back to the coach. “Look after him when we return,” He says to Philippe. “It has been a difficult day for him.” He turns to me, “And tonight Jean, I think we will go out somewhere for dinner.”
I nod. What else can I do?
After long last an update ! Hooray , stnylan ! A great set of mannerisms you've attached to Jean's dad and the contrast you portrayed among the others with him really shows us the scene very well .
Too proud to be a man of faith, but streetwise enough to become known as a man of faith!
Jean's father is a fascinating study.
I'm sure there's more I have to say about this, but I'll have to read back a few scenes first so I can catch the more subtle things.
Great to see this back! And you, Stnylan!
Rensslaer
Jean's father is a fascinating study.
I'm sure there's more I have to say about this, but I'll have to read back a few scenes first so I can catch the more subtle things.
Great to see this back! And you, Stnylan!
Rensslaer
Great to see another update stnylan and with alll the usual flourishes. I note the father takes the scene over, clearly the leader in the relationship and marked by the final words. As well, I am thinking he's just upset a few apple carts by showing up unannounced. It may take some time for all the principals to adjust.
stnylan: ...“..regrets that your name has so quickly been forgotten in these halls.”
so true ! ! fame lasts so much less than infamy ! !
stnylan: ...“And your predecessor? I had hoped to have a personal conversation with him.”
not to mention an interest in placing him on a certain rack ? ?
stnylan: ...“You are keeping the same staff?”...“For the moment. I expect to be replaced here in Madrid...”
calculated to keep the Spanish off balance ? ?
stnylan: ...“And tonight Jean, I think we will go out somewhere for dinner.”
hmmm. i wonder where that might be ? ?
magnificent update ! !
so true ! ! fame lasts so much less than infamy ! !
stnylan: ...“And your predecessor? I had hoped to have a personal conversation with him.”
not to mention an interest in placing him on a certain rack ? ?
stnylan: ...“You are keeping the same staff?”...“For the moment. I expect to be replaced here in Madrid...”
calculated to keep the Spanish off balance ? ?
stnylan: ...“And tonight Jean, I think we will go out somewhere for dinner.”
hmmm. i wonder where that might be ? ?
magnificent update ! !
Ah, the intrigues of court (both French and Spanish) are still all a twitter. Nice! I can't wait to read of the father and son conversation/discourse over dinner!
Somehow, I sense Jean sneaking around out there somewhere...
I'm just anxious to catch a glimpse of him soon!
Rensslaer
I'm just anxious to catch a glimpse of him soon!
Rensslaer
Do I add to the chorus? *flips a coin* Yeah. I's good to see you back in business and writing this tale again.
I've been intrigued by Father's sharpness. I guess it's a style he can afford because he won't stay in Madrid for long and because of his past relations with the Duke. It might even be a kind of game or ritual between them. I wonder how it will affect Jean after Father's departure, though. Speaking about Jean... this reminds me a little of how he speaks in the very first post.
I've been intrigued by Father's sharpness. I guess it's a style he can afford because he won't stay in Madrid for long and because of his past relations with the Duke. It might even be a kind of game or ritual between them. I wonder how it will affect Jean after Father's departure, though. Speaking about Jean... this reminds me a little of how he speaks in the very first post.
Nil-The-Frogg: Do I add to the chorus?...
how can you even consider not adding to that chorus ? ?
:: adds to the chorus ::
how can you even consider not adding to that chorus ? ?
:: adds to the chorus ::