Fanfic:Music Appreciation
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The haunting melody of the recorder drifted past Lembirt's ears as he stood on the balcony, staring out at the square towers of his native city. From here, on one of the upper floors, be could see past the topless towers clear to the terraced hills of the surrounding country. It always amazed him how the Cairhienin, his ancestors, his blood, had managed to impose order on the unruly landscape so effectively. It was a thing for any man to be proud of, and he certainly was.
Below him, amidst the rigid plots of the gardens, was the source of the music. A bard was sitting on one of the low stone benches, practicing his trade by playing what just happened to be Lembirt's favourite song, a deep, rich, yet melancholy tune called Moonlight on the Water. As Lembirt watched, he allowed a small smile to cross his face. No one was watching him, he was sure of that, and he truly, genuinely enjoyed the music.
As he watched, a rather interesting scene played out. A young woman with her curls piled high above her head and blue and green stripes across the front of her dress entered the courtyard. Her name was Lisenne Jerrilin; Lembirt had met her the night before. Her family were minor nobles hoping to gain more power for themselves by allying with House Adillarn; Lembirt didn't really like the idea. He couldn't see what there was for his House to gain from the arrangement, and thus could see no real purpose for it.
As he watched, Lisenne sat down beside the bard, and no doubt thinking herself unobserved, and began to talk to the man. Within moments, he had handed her his strange instrument and she was attempting to play, producing any number of terrible squeaking noises and a few sounds that almost produced a note.
The young lordling thought back to a few days earlier; the Bard was new to the manor, and his unusual backwards flute had been fascinating. Lembirt had tried playing it, at the man's urging, with very little success. In fact, with considerably less success than the woman in the garden below, who was now managing to actually get fairly consistent notes out of the thing.
Lembirt concealed the frown that wanted to cross his face. It could always be that she was staging this on purpose, but he thought that she was genuinely unaware of his presence. He was careful not to make any noise as he stepped backwards through the open doors behind him and into his chambers. Something would have to be done about this; he couldn't have what was little more than a merchant coming into his manor and upstaging him!
He sat down at his heavy mahogany writing desk, beneath the lamp that the servants would have lit some time ago, and opened the top left drawer where he kept his writing supplies. He thought carefully about what he would need to write.
He had always wanted an excuse to have someone disgraced.
