Writing Rambles #15
This ones quite dear to me. I really enjoyed playing around with these characters and setting. They nestled their way into my heart fast. My brain has connected this story to my memory of going to the Renaissance Festival. When I read it over I can feel what the whether was like that day, what it smelt and sounded like, the energy surrounding the jousting tournament. A small piece of me traveled back in time that day and these characters help me go back there.
As always, if you want to join the fun, write your own story off of the promt before you read mine and post it in the fireside room! I’d love to read it!
Prompt: “Congtats,” he said, trying to hide his disappointment . . .
Glendor the Champion written September 8, 2019
“Congrats,” he said, trying to hide his disappointment. He didn’t do a good job.
The small knight beside him, silver clad and all giggles, gave him a hard jab in the arm with a fisted gauntlet, armor clinking loudly in their quiet place away from the crowd.
“Aw come on, Tristan! I thought we agreed we weren’t gonna make this weird.”
“We did . . . I won’t.”
“You better not. A promise is a promise.” The voice was stern and muffled, but then the champion lifted the face guard, revealing a playful smile. Her blue eyes twinkled with a mischief he knew very well. And as Tristen gazed at her freckle-kissed face and ocean eyes set under two, fine, auburn brows like a dusk horizon, he once again marveled at the mystery that Gwen had gotten anyone to believe she wasn’t a girl. Course she had two. Girls weren’t allowed to sword fight.
“I was pretty great out there, huh?” she spun the broadsword in her hand.
Tristen shrugged. “Yeah... I mean I guess so. Personally, I would have done a few things differently.”
Gwen gave him a shove which broke the harness on the grin he was holding back. “Whatever.” Then she grew rather serious, turning those tidal eyes on him until his heart ached a little. “Thanks for coming though . . . even though you didn’t get the place in the championship and . . . I did.”
“You think I would miss this?” he asked, once he managed to untie his tongue.
She gave him a soft smile and he could tell she was thinking. He just wished he knew what.
Back in the arena the crowds were gearing up for another round, and there was no doubt who they wanted. Muffled cries shouted one name over and over. “Glendor! Glendor!” Gwen’s champion alias.
Gwen shrugged. “I best not to keep them waiting.”
“Your adoring fans?” Tristan asked with a lopsided grin. “How could you?”
“Catch you after, Tris!” she started to hop away. “We’ll go train!”
“Yeah . . . Good luck!” he shouted before she was fully out of sight, but his heart wasn’t in it. Not so much because of jealousy, but more because he worried and he didn’t want her to get hurt.
Thanks for reading!
Your captain,
Ellie Maureen
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