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Post by Elisha Montague on Oct 14, 2010 21:52:06 GMT 1
The Heighliner journey lasted some six hours in the end. The Sisterhood clearly felt that their responsibility to Elisha began and ended with the act of booking her a passage home, and had put her on a stopping service which would call at five other planets before reaching the world of her birth. Of course the space folding technology devised all those centuries ago by Tio Holtzman combined with the prescient powers of Guild navigators meant the actual travelling would be near instantaneous, but there was still an hour's wait at each stop whil various spacecraft entered and departed the gigantic vessel and precious little to do while they did so.
Grumman, Caladan, Junction, Zanovar, Lankiveil... next stop, home... I guess.
Elisha’s third class ticket did not entitle her to any complementary in-flight refreshment or entertainment, so she contented herself with a bottle of juice purchased at the Spaceport kiosk and admiring the view from the window. Her financial resources, limited as they were to a little leftover spending money from long past Spaceport excursions, simply would not run to anything more. A good number of Bene Gesseret sisters had boarded the Heighliner along with her at Wallach but she spotted nobody she knew among them and since she retained her robe there was nothing to immediately mark her out for attention. Of this she was glad as she really did not need any more snide comments or pitying looks. She sat as far away from the Sisterhood group as she could though just in case, and found herself next to a short leathery little man who turned out to be a spice wholesaler from Arrakis. As he regaled her with tales of how the Bene Gesserit were his very best customers she became aware of how just much he absolutely reeked of melanage, but the smell was not unfamiliar since all Reverend Mothers and a good many lower ranking sisters were heavy spice users. As a virga, or rather ex-virga now she reminded herself, she herself had tried the drug on a few occasions during classes although she did not care for it much. It was better than sitting next to a Sister at least.
"And so there was this one time when the Harkonnens told me that my spice shipment had been destroyed by Fremen raiders, but they insisted I pay them anyway! Said that there was nothing in my insurance agreement to cover piracy, can you believe it?! It's dang blasted stupid rules like that that make honest traders turn to smugglers for their supplies".
Elisha did her best to mentally tune out the melange dealer's droning voice, not a difficult thing to do thanks to her simuflow training, but still gave an almost audible sigh of relief when she heard the telltale whine of the Holtzman engines powering up for the sixth time. Peering through the small clearplaz window she watched the planet Lankiveil shimmer and wink out of existence as the Heighliner entered foldspace. Mere seconds later, although they had in fact travelled hundreds of millions of miles, a new sight was to be seen: Allanor, her her homeworld and the seat of House Montague. It was the first time she had seen it since her last visit three years ago for the wedding of her sister Isabelle.
Home sweet home...
There followed a very uneventful trip down to the surface by Guild shuttle. Only three other passengers were disembarking with her and Elisha did not speak to any of them. Neither was there much to be seen through the landing craft's tiny windows, for Allanor's atmosphere was always thick and heavy with the smoke of industry. Their destination would be Williamsport on the southern continent, not the planet’s biggest spaceport by any means but the one best equipped to handle passengers as opposed to cargo and also the closest to the Montague family chateau high in the southern mountains. The air eventually cleared a little and the first spires of the city loomed into view, a curious mixture of high gothic and neo-classical ironwork intermingled with modern plaz and metal structures. She knew that parts of Williamsport were ancient, dating back to pre-Jihad times, and her eye was momentarily drawn to a gigantic wrought iron arch stretching the width of three city blocks. In huge letters visible even from the air it proclaimed:
Welcome to Avalon - Know the Freedom of Technology - A Robot in Every Home
That was a reminder of centuries past when the city had gone by a different name and had been one of the foremost manufacturing facilities for thinking machines in the pre-Jihad age. It was here that her illustrious ancestor William Montague had landed with fanatical Butlerian forces to rout the fat and lazy technophiles of 'Avalon', freeing the minds of the citizenry from machine control teaching them to think like men again. Elisha found herself recalling the songs of early childhood, of how the heretics were cast down by the righteous and their mechanical idols burned in the streets. It must surely have been an amazing victory and it was not long after that a second huge iron banner had been hung from the first by great chains, allegedly forged from the melted down shells of defeated androids. This one proclaimed a warning to any who might consider turning back the clock:
Not While the Empire Stands
Elisha wondered though how much was really different compared to when that sign had gone up so long ago. Now as then Allanor was a technological manufacturing world, its great factories spewing forth all manner of gadgets and devices for an Empire still hungry for them in spite of its much vaunted prohibitions against thinking machines. In the days before the Jihad her countrymen had been open about what they produced, now they merely asked fewer questions about the Ixian and Richessian blueprints they worked from. Maybe it's easier just not to think about it.
There was no more time for idle philosophising in any case as a subtle change in tone from the shuttle's engines made her aware that they would be landing within moments. It was time to gather her thoughts, and prepare herself for what could be the most difficult meeting of her life. Facing her father and explaining her expulsion from the Sisterhood could be more gruelling ordeal than even an audience with a Reverend Mother.
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Post by Elisha Montague on Oct 14, 2010 21:57:18 GMT 1
"A pleasure m'am. Enjoy your visit!" replied the shuttle attendant as Elisha thanked him politely and descended the ramp.
Had the man known who was disembarking from his shuttle he would probably have bowed, but Elisha had not been recognised and she was glad of it. She would have trouble enough from her family soon enough without making it worse by attracting unwanted notice in the city. Even as she stepped onto the smooth tiled spaceport concourse memories of her last visit home came flooding back, reminding her how all the bowing and scraping had made her feel confused and almost dizzy at times. Two thirds of a lifetime being shouted at and lectured on Wallach had left her ill-prepared for such attention.
I suppose I shall have to get used to it eventually. I am Lady Elisha Montague, daughter of the Siridar-Duke, after all.
Even in her mind the title just did not sit right though and she resolved to remain plain old Elisha for a while longer. That would mean forgoing the use of family funds of course, but fortunately she had an account of her own with a small amount of money intended for emergencies. Not worrying that she was perhaps stretching the definition of an emergency somewhat she took a moment to get her bearings before heading in the direction of the local branch of the Guild Bank. The spaceport was larger than the one on Wallach, and busier too, but it was still tiny compared with places like Kaitain or Junction. Laid out in a rough circle the arrivals and departure area was on one side and a cluster of shops and businesses on the other, and it was in that direction that Elisha headed. Stopping in front of a cash dispensing machine she rummaged in her bag for her account card. The machine was slow and stupid, and indeed deliberately designed to be so lest anyone suggest that it was acting in the likeness of a man's mind. Elisha though was happy to endure the grinding and clanking while the device employed what in an earlier age would have been considered ludicrously primitive methods to validate her card and match it to an active account. The alternative would have been to identify herself to a human teller and risk everyone in the bank knowing who she was, and a little time wasted was a small price to pay for her continued anonymity. Finally her card was returned, a small hatch opened and she was presented with a small pile of crisp twenty solari notes. Now it was time to go shopping.
The clothes store at the spaceport was hardly the height of sophistication, cramped, ill lit and dealing more in practical travelling clothes than high fashion. This did not bother Elisha though. She sought only to rid herself of the Bene Gesserit robe which with each passing moment was feeling more like a visible mark of failure upon her body. In the end she exchanged it for a simple beige shirt and brown pants, together with a good sturdy pair of boots, and on the spur of the moment also added a vintage-style brown leather jacket. The end result was distinctly unfeminine and left her looking more like a militia recruit than a Duke's daughter, but she did not care. Assuming her father did not disown her on sight there would be more than enough time for haut couture later; for now she was simply glad that nobody would any longer mistake her for a Bene Gesserit nor would she be constantly reminded of recent events by her attire. Her need for money and a change of clothing satisfied she could now put off no longer leaving the concourse. The weather was hazy as usual but perhaps less so than she remembered, then again she kept reminding herself that she had been home on only a handful of occasions since she was a small child.
Thankfully the streets of Williamsport were fairly quiet, with most people still at their places of work and not yet venturing out for evening social activities. Although obviously no Kaitain or Gamont there was still reasonably vibrant nightlife to be found on Allanor when bored factory workers turned out for the evening. Elisha was glad of the quiet for in spite of her quite drastic change of appearance she knew it would only take one hyper-observant soul and her cover would be blown. Now she had to secure transport up to the family home and for a moment she found herself reaching into her bag and fingering the ring bearing the family crest and the official identity papers within. All she would have to do would be to show these to the nearest official and she could be whisked up to the chateau by private ground car. Again though her desire to avoid fanfare and ceremony held her back and she let the fall back to the bottom of the bag before following a sign to the public tram station.
Trams ran hourly between Williamsport and Montague's Landing, the small village nestled in the foothills of the southern mountains inhabited almost entirely by staff working at the Montague family chateau. The village was so named because it was close to the original landing site where William Montague had touched down with the Butlerian forces ready to purge the taint of the thinking machines from Allanor and although tiny attracted a goodly number of tourists depending on the season. From there it was only a short walk up to the chateau itself, a large and forbidding structure of wood and stone which appeared to have been almost grown out of the mountainside. Built in the latter days of the pre-Butlerian era it had been home to a playboy industrialist, one of many who ruled Allanor at the time, who fancied himself a scholar of the medieval period of Old Terra. According to popular legend at least it once boasted a large retinue of stunningly lifelike androids made up in the style of the knights and ladies of old, but of course that was all gone now. Today it was the Montague family home and the place where Elisha had spent her early childhood until being sent away to Wallach to join the Bene Gesserit.
And now I'm back here... yet I feel like a stranger, my father will hate me, and I don't even know how to be the noble lady my birthright demands.
The tram ride from Williamsport had been uneventful and the tram itself fortunately almost empty save for tourists. She had left them behind perusing the souvenir shops at Montague's Landing while she began the walk up to the chateau. It was not actually forbidden for the common people to visit their lord's residence, and indeed many did on the days when the Duke heard petitions and settled disputes, but out of deference most would not venture up to the weathered walls unless they had some business there. Elisha now found herself outside those walls, and she could not put off revealing herself any longer. Reaching into her bag she removed her papers and slipped the Montague family ring onto her finger.
"Yes, miss?", enquired one of the smartly dressed guardsmen outside the gate, "Can I help you?"
"Oh I do hope so" replied Elisha in the best upper class voice she could muster, proffering her paperwork and making sure the ring on her right hand was visible, "I am here to see my father".
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Post by Elisha Montague on Oct 14, 2010 22:05:03 GMT 1
The look on the gate guard's face when he realised who he was dealing with was priceless and afforded Elisha some momentary amusement, but once inside the chateau all the funny bowing and "oh milady I had no idea you were expected! please forgive me!" comments were once again overtaken by thoughts of exactly how she was going to deal with the Duke. Following the guardsman across the wide courtyard she tried to get her bearings. Although this was her ancestral home, where she was born even, being removed to Wallach IX so many years ago had given it the feel of a stranger's abode or perhaps at best the home of a seldom visited acquaintance. It was still late afternoon and fully light, so Elisha cast her eyes around the courtyard. The chateau barraks was to her left and the servant's quarters to her right. A couple of servants came out and scurried past but they either did not recognise her or were to engrossed in their tasks to take notice. At the far end the large set of double doors which was their destination opened into la grand couloir, the heart of the chateau's interior from which various smaller passages branched leading to suites assigned to individual family members and retainers. At the far end it opened out into the great hall where the Duke held court.
"Please wait here milady. I shall go at once and announce your presence to the His Grace"
Elisha nodded and watched as the blue and gold liveried man scurried off in the direction of the Duke's chambers, while casting her eye over her surroundings. Her father's miserly character had not managed to dim the splendour of la grand couloir, mostly due to the fact that the fine tapestries and old masterworks which hung here were the ancient inheritance of the family and cost him nothing to display. Softly tuned glowglobes ensured that the lighting was never too harsh upon the artworks while skilfully placed spot lamps picked out individual pieces of which the family was especially proud. She found her eyes drawn to a huge portrait of family patriarch William Montague dressed in the colours of the House and standing sword aloft, amidst cheering crowds and with a slain android at his feet. Further down the hall what was purported to be the head of that very same android, the last to be dispatched before Allanor was formally claimed by the Butlerians, sat encased in clearplaz on its own little plinth. Elsewhere were hung portraits of the various Dukes down the ages, banners from the great battles in which House Montague had fought for the Padisha Emperor, and family heirlooms such as weapons and armor.
The sense of history was overwhelming and Elisha found herself wondering what her illustrious ancestors would make of her behavior. House Montague was very big on duty: duty to the family, duty to the Imperium, duty to God. No doubt they would be horrified at her impulsive actions and her desire to make her own choices. Where had all that dutifulness got them though in the end? Other Houses like the Atreides, while poorer, continued to trade on better claims of ancient heroism to stand ahead of them in the pecking order of nobility while upcoming Houses such as the Harkonnens freely broke the rules in order to amass greater wealth than the Montagues had ever gotten through playing fair. Her family would always be worthy, but it would also always be dull.
"Your father will see you now, milady. Please do follow me"
Elisha had been so lost in thought that the guard actually managed to surprise her. Inwardly she cursed and wondered if her Bene Gesserit skills were already starting to slip away mere hours after leaving Wallach. No, she was just stressed of course, and that stress was not about to lessen as she prepared to face up to what would surely be a tongue-lashing to rival any dished out by the old Proctors.
"Well this is a surprise" called out the Duke, before Elisha had even entered his study, "Now to what do I owe the pleasure of a visit from my youngest daughter? Are you not supposed to be studying hard on Wallach? I believe I recall reading in your last report that it's almost time for you to move onto your individual apprenticeship and become an acolyte, or whatever it is you Bene Gesserit call it".
Her father seemed remarkably unfazed by her appearance, quite relaxed even. Had she caught him in a good mood? Perhaps a recent business deal had gone his way or Frederick her brother had caught the attention of a rich and well-connected young noblewoman. In her current state of anxiety she was prepared to cling onto any sort of faint hope, although a small but insistent voice at the back of her head tried to tell her that something was not right. She noted that her father was looking a little older as she stepped over the threshold into his finely appointed but very minimalist study. Papers were strewn over his desk and a burnished metal message cylinder lay opened at one end alongside an elegant whiskey decanter which she knew was largely there for show only, as her father was not much of a drinker. The Duke was dressed relatively casually in a simple two-piece suit, his hands clasped on the desk before him and his steel-gray ring of office plainly visible. He was also looking at her very intently and smiling broadly.
"Well, come on. Speak up my girl. What brings you here? I did not summon you so it must be a reason of your own devising, no?"
Elisha opened her mouth to speak but no sound would come out. How could she tell her father what had become of her? How could she explain in a way that might make him understand how she just could not take it anymore and had so badly needed to escape? Elisha was not normally one to find talking a problem, always at the Mother School she had the right kind of retort for the Proctors hovering just on the line between apology and defiance, and yet somehow facing her father was different.
"Father, I..." she bagan, struggling for the words, " I ... have been ... that is to say I ... have left ..."
"I already know you stupid girl" Duke Montague hissed, his genial smile evaporating as he snatched up the message cylinder and flung it at Elisha, "This arrived from the Bene Gesserit by courier this morning. I just wanted to see if you would have the strength of character to actually tell me, and it seems you failed in that as well."
Years of carefully learned behaviour took over and Elisha expertly dodged the clumsy missile, which clattered into the doorframe behind her. Would that she could dodge her father's words so easily, or the smug self-satisfied cruelty of the Bene Gesserit. How could the Sisterhood do this? Letting her spend the whole journey home worrying about how to break the news when they had already sent it along in advance, that was too much even for them. Then she remembered what they had all learned about Bene Gesserit punishments, and she understood. The Duke for his part glowered from behind his desk; Elisha's father was not one to raise his voice, but his quiet rages could be just as terrible as any shouting fit.
"Gross disobedience and stricking a fellow sister?" he spat at last, "Do you have any idea how much shame this could bring to our House?! No of course you don't. The Bene Gesserit are exactly right, you are a willful selfish girl who thinks only of her own desires. Why if I had my way I would disown you right now, but that would give the gossips and media harpies still more to talk about."
"Father I am sorry" she began, at last forcing out the words she sought, "If you had been there, if you had seen. The lied to me, deceived me and tried to trick me. Reverend Mother Alechem! It was all her fault. I did not mean to strike Helena, she was just in the wrong place at the ..."
"Silence!" snapped the Duke, cutting her off and fixing her with with a glare which could have melted durasteel plate, "I will hear none of your excuses! For now you will have to remain here, while we try to figure out the best for of damage limitation, but do not even for one moment think that I am pleased to have you back under my roof. You have let down your family very badly today, Elisha, and I suggest you think on that. Now get out of here! And for God's sake change into something a little more appropriate will you? You look like more like a smuggler than a Duke's daughter".
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Post by Elisha Montague on Oct 14, 2010 22:10:14 GMT 1
Elisha stumbled backwards out of the Duke's study and sank into a chair, stinging from her father's reprimand and the duplicity of the Bene Gesserit. She felt mentally exhausted, barely recovered from the shock Lilith's betrayal and her expulsion from the Mother School and now all this on top. In spite of everything though she found herself analysing her father's words; what did he mean by "damage limitation"? Elisha had an uncomfortable feeling that it meant marrying her off to the first suitor who would take her, probably some grasping little House Minor type anxious to scrabble his way up to the top table. Although she was only the Duke's fifth and youngest daughter, almost a nobody by the standards of Imperial high nobility, marrying her would still give an ambitious aristocrat a foot in the door.
I will not be anyone's chattel!
She would make her father disown her before she would accept a forced marriage to some creep from the local gentry. Then again what if "damage limitation" did not mean marriage? Maybe the Duke intended to keep her locked away, perhaps here on Allanor or elsewhere at some distant Montague business holding. The idea was not without precedent for rumours persisted that Emperor Corrin had effectively exiled his own daughter, Princess Shalandra, to the sanctuary world of Tupile after her eccentricities became too much the royal family to bear. If it worked for the Emperor then it would surely not be beyond the thoughts of one such as her father, who loved so much to consider himself cut from similar cloth.
Perhaps he even means to have me... disposed of.
The thought was chilling, but it was not unknown for Great Houses to employ assassins even against their own. Granted that was something more easily imagined of the Moritani or the Harkonnens than the genteel Montagues, but the look in her father's eyes told her that anything and everything could be in consideration. He would after all do anything to protect the family name, and yet the more she thought about it the more Elisha doubted that she would earn him anything like the notoriety he feared. She was indeed merely the fifth daughter of a relatively unremarkable House; it as not as if the Emperor's daughter had just been expelled from the Bene Gesserit. If she made the news at all it would likely be as a small footnote underneath the Atreides Duke's latest bullfighting exploits and the renewed hostility between Ginaz and Grumman. House Montague's affairs were just not as big news as her father would like and she was not as big a part of those affairs as he feared.
Perhaps I can just ride this out... when he sees that it's nothing like the embarrassment he's afraid of he might mellow a little.
Whether or not it was well founded Elisha decided to hold onto this hope for now. It would not do to lose herself in despair and depression, that was what the Sisterhood wanted. They wanted her broken and miserable, wishing that she had turned left instead of right and taken up Miral Alechem on her offer of bondage. She would not give them the satisfaction! Filled suddenly, even if only transiently, with fiery new determination she sprang to her feet. Today was the first day of the rest of her life. She would prove to her father that she her future was not "damage limitation" and she would show the Sisterhood that she would not be cowed no matter how much they might try to blacken her name, and most of all she would show Lilith.
I hope I find her again one day, when she's bruised and broken and choking on Alechem's leash, and I'm living the life of freedom we both dreamed about. She'll know, oh yes she'll know, that I was the strong one and the one who made the right choice.
The first step in the rest of her life would be to get settled in here. She had a set of rooms which had barely been used since she was a small child, well those would need redecorating for a start. A new wardrobe would go down well too; if her father wanted her to dress like a Duke's daughter should then he could pick up the tab. Oh yes it was high time she stopped moping about what she had lost and set out to claim what she had found. Turning on her heel Elisha resolved to head on up to her suite and see exactly what state it was in. However at that moment she was stopped in her tracks by a small child-like voice from behind.
"Hello"
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Post by Lucy Montague on Oct 16, 2010 11:00:05 GMT 1
Somewhere within the vast expanse of ancient stonework that was the Montague family château, a young girl sat in front of a paneless window, watching heavy clouds roll by. If anyone were to look in from the outside, they would have caught a glimpse of blond tresses fluttering in the breeze as the girl leaned onto the stony ledge, using her elbows for support. She was framed there as though in a painting, several hundreds of meters above the ground at the very top of one of the many crenellated turrets scattered across the château. From that lofty vantage point, her gaze could encompass the entire surrounding countryside all the way to Williamsport in the distance where the horizon closed in, but the girl wasn't interested the view; she was daydreaming.
Lucy Montague was entirely alone; behind her and the narrow balcony she currently stood in loomed a cavernous chamber where mountains of debris were stacked on top of each other, in places reaching all the way to the ceiling: old furniture that hadn't been in use for decades or even centuries, broken toys whose original owners were long dead, piles of musty clothes and dusty books, rusted weapons, a myriad of knick-knacks of all shapes and sizes plus uncountable more relics of a forgotten past towered there in a dubious equilibrium: everything the Montague family no longer displayed in their ancestral home yet hadn't destroyed was there, accumulated over centuries. Such was Lucy's secret hideaway, the place she'd discovered years ago as a young child and had since appropriated as her “lair”, a place where she felt secure, unbothered by either family or servants. She knew it like the back of her hand, the easiest routes from the entrance to the tiny balcony at the very end of the room, or into the depths of some of those enormous junkpiles where many a long forgotten treasure waited to be discovered, then taken to her room to add to her collection: a beautifully carved ring, a parasilk gown that for all its crumpled, faded appearance still looked spectacular to Lucy, a diary belonging to a great-great-great aunt she'd never even heard of, full of wonderful thoughts and drawings to occupy her mind for hours, and many more. This was her domain, a place where she could forget her loneliness.
Lucy Montague was twelve years old and had lived her entire life there, at the family château. In her veins flowed the noble blood of Allanor's rulers, but for all of that she was an unwelcome presence in the castle, a fluke, a source of embarrassment. Lucy was old enough to better understand the reasons then, but she'd always known it on some basic, intuitive level. One of the earliest teachings instilled in her had involved what it meant to be a Montague, that her family was ancient and noble yet she'd always felt tolerated rather than part of it, despite the fact that her loyalty and obedience were demanded unquestioningly. For the most part, she was ignored as much as the rest of her relatives could manage: Lucy was left out of public events, gatherings and family outings, her aunts, uncle and grandparents could pass her by without sparing a single glance, and sometimes seemed startled to discover she was actually there. Yet, none if that was quite as bad as her grandfather: he was the coldest and most inflexible man Lucy had ever known, who never tired of reminding her how fortunate she was to live there at all, and that she should be grateful for what she was given, always with that unmistakable chill about him and forbidding formality in his voice. He was ashamed of her, and that hurt, more than anyone knew.
There was one source of comfort however: her mother, who offered her the love she was otherwise denied, one of the things that made life bearable. Aunts Sara and Karina weren't too bad either, but they rarely had time for Lucy.Like on so many other occasions, Lucy sat before the window of her lair and lazily surveyed the familiar view, lost in contemplation. She dreamed of the world beyond the château and the villages surrounding it, beyond Williamsport and Allanor itself: the strange and wonderful planets out there filled with exotic people living the sort of lives she could scarcely imagine. A favourite fantasy centered around Kaitain, the gilded Imperial Court where the Emperor lived; Lucy had only glimpsed a few holograms depicting it, but her breath had been taken away just the same. Oh, to go there, if only just once...Lucy would have given anything.
Another source of lofty dreams was the Bene Gesserit Sisterhood, the infamous so called Witches, wonders of Lucy's imagination: formidable and wise beyond compare, like characters in one of her storyfilmbooks; they scarcely seemed real. Her aunt Elisha was going to be one of them...Lucy both envied her and felt proud that she was related to one of the Sisters. Imagine that! Something to boast about, and nobody to boast to, for she had no friends; she was forbidden to associate with other children from the village, because Montague ladies did not mingle with commoners. The only time she was a Montague was when it meant doing what somebody else wanted, Lucy mused with a surge of indignation. She hated it, she couldn't wait until she was old enough to leave that place; it didn't matter where: anywhere. She'd show them then!
The girl's gaze drifted away from the sky and to the winding road leaning up to the castle, drawn there by movement: a tiny figure was approaching, a speck in the distance growing ever larger; Lucy found herself following its advancement, vaguely curious as to who it was. As the shape drew closer, she could just about make out a shock of blond hair flapping above the woman's - yes, it was a woman- shoulders in cadence with her step. Lucy leaned forward until her chin extended over the window's ledge, trying to catch a glimpse of her face, but the woman was set on her path and didn't glance elsewhere. Just when she was about to pass beyond her field of vision, she looked up briefly, causing Lucy to flinch: that was her aunt Elisha, wasn't it?! She was a tad too high up to be sure, but she felt fairly confident it really was Elisha. The girl's heart started racing excitedly, for she'd seen her famous Bene Gesserit aunt just twice over the past few years, and beyond that she'd been too young to remember. Their last encounter had been at aunt Isabelle's wedding three years ago, something even Lucy hadn't been banned from, but the busy nature of the event had mostly kept them apart. Plus, she'd been only nine; now it was different, she might actually get to talk to her, properly this time! All the things she would ask...!
Grinning from ear to ear, Lucy spun on her heel and began winding her way through the cluttered attic, bounding through the door and down the long flight of stairs that communicated with the castle proper. There she paused in deliberation, wondering where to go first; the château was large, and Elisha could have been anywhere. A few options emerged among other, less likely ones: the reception hall, her chambers, the apartments of one of her sisters or...the Duke's office. Scowling to herself, Lucy decided to check that one last.
Across the château Lucy roamed, eliminating one option after another and losing her breath in the process, yet without success. Though the game of chase with the potential surprise lurking around every new corner had been fun at first, after some time Lucy gave in and approached one of the guards flanking the massive entrance to ask whether her aunt was really there. The man, unaccustomed to being addressed by the girl, hesitated a moment but since he did recognize her, he promptly yielded the information: "Lady Elisha is indeed visiting and is currently in audience with his Lordship", he said politely.
Lucy grinned her brightest grin yet and leapt victoriously, spinning around in mid-air before sprinting up the grandiose flight of stairs which lead to the upper levels where the central hub of the château was located. Panting as she emerged into la grand couloir, she froze when she saw her aunt rise from a chair and, with her back turned to Lucy, make her way down the hall. The girl didn't hesitate; she raced down the corridor, the length of plush red carpet muffling the sound of her footsteps, then stopped abruptly when she'd caught up with Elisha.
“Hello,” Lucy called out tentatively, watching in excitement as Elisha paused in her track.
What to say, what to say? The girl remained standing where she was, hands locked behind her back, one foot gently tapping the other; she was quite tall for her age and very slim of build, one narrow shoulder peeking out of the dress she wore, which was a bit too large for her and currently hung lopsidedly over her frame. The dress was made out of thick burgundy velvet with intricate silver stitching across the bodice, and it wasn't actually Lucy's: she'd found it in her attic and began wearing it since her mother kept complaining she didn't take proper care of her clothing. Nobody had stopped her, and the dress was comfortable despite the fact that the velvet was faded and worn around the hemlines and the stitching had been torn in several places, not to mention dusty from Lucy's frequent escapades throughout the seldom-visited parts of the château.
“It's really you!” she exclaimed when Elisha turned towards her and she was able to look at her face, eyes going wide with glee. "You've come home!"
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Post by Elisha Montague on Oct 16, 2010 11:08:11 GMT 1
Elisha halted in mid-stride, her train of thought broken. She turned and beheld a girl of, she would guess, about twelve or thirteen standard years wearing an elegant but rather outsized purple dress. Elisha was momentarily lost for words. Her knowledge of the Chateau and its inhabitants was hazy and best and she had no immediate idea who this was.
"It's really you?” enquired the girl, "You've come home!"
Elisha took a few seconds to think some more, hoping that her lack of immediate recognition was not making her appear silly but unwilling to feign knowledge in case that made her appear even more foolish. She began to apply some logic to the situation. The girl clearly knew who she was, so that meant she was probably a long-time resident of the Chateau, and she had addressed Elisha in a familiar way which made her unlikely to be a servant. That left other members of the Montague family. Recognition finally snapped into being like the flick of a switch; this had to be Lucy, her sister Emma's daughter. Elisha now faintly recalled meeting the girl at Isabelle's wedding, although she could not remember of they had ever spoken beyond polite introductions.
"Hello there!" she replied, her face breaking out into a smile, although in truth more because she was happy to have remembered who Lucy was than because she was especially pleased to see her, "Why, yes... I have come home..."
Her voice trailed off and she was unsure how to continue. Elisha was not really used to dealing with children. At the Mother School there was little contact between the older students and the younger ones, especially for the virgae. The care of children was considered the work of a profictus. She knew Lucy's story well enough of course, the story about how Emma had fallen in love with a commoner against their father's wishes and then become pregnant by him. This had left the unenviable choice between either sanctioning a marriage between Emma and a man of low status or it becoming known publicly that she was unmarried and with child. The first option was chosen but the resentment on the part of the Montagues was palpable, and by the time the wedding preparations were underway Lucy's unfortunate father had cracked under the stress and fled the planet. Since then Emma had been treated with barely disguised contempt by the Duke and with a kind of condescending pity by the rest of the family, and if she fared badly then Lucy fared far worse. Elisha knew all this as fact having been heard it in solemn conversation with her mother, while being admonished not to let herself end up like Emma, and in whispers and giggles from Isabelle who delighted in speaking ill of people behind their backs. She had not though ever really given any serious consideration to it. Some fifteen years in age separated her from Emma and that, taken together with the majority of Elisha's time being spent on Wallach, meant that the two had never been at all close. Her previous trouble remembering Lucy was final proof enough that the girl had never really been on her radar.
And now that I have displeased father so, am I to become like Emma?
The momentary fear that in her older sister she might behold her own fate stirred up curious feelings in Elisha, ones of sympathy and even empathy. She looked Lucy up and down again, noticing for the first time the decrepitude of the dress she wore. Did the old miser really hate the girl so much that he reduced her to wearing faded old hand-me-downs? She felt a flash of anger and almost resolved there and then to storm back into the Duke's office and confront him. The level-headedness taught to her by the Sisterhood prevailed though and she realised that her own current precarious situation would be made no better by taking up the cudgels on behalf of one of the families other outsiders.
"So, Lucy" she continued, deciding that even if there was nothing immediate she could do to help it still behooved her to be nice to the girl, "my how you've grown! I remember at your aunt Isabelle's wedding you were only this big".
She waved her hand vaguely, trying to guesstimate how tall a nine year old child might be. She in fact had no idea how tall Lucy had been three years ago, having only the smallest remembrances of having seen her at the wedding, but it seemed like the kind of compliment you were supposed to pay to a child.
"And that is a pretty dress! Why you look much more the noble lady than your aunt Elisha, don't you?" she continued, wondering what the girl would make of her own utilitarian appearance and also beginning to realise that in her attempts to overcome her unfamiliarity with children she probably sounded rather patronising, "So what brings you down here anyway? Did you come just to welcome me back?"
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Post by Lucy Montague on Oct 16, 2010 11:13:15 GMT 1
Nothing exciting ever happened at the Montague family château; days blended into weeks, which in turn became months, then years, and each seemed to be much like the previous one to Lucy. A feeling of monotony permeated her sheltered life, a colourless uniformity she'd known since birth. The Montagues were not given to lavish public events, and the guests who visited the castle were usually there on business, or personal friends to one of the ruling family members. Neither of which, of course, had anything to do with Lucy, and whenever dinner parties or similar events were organized, they never included her. In fact, when the château received visitors, it was deemed that she stayed in the family wing, unable to see or be seen.
It was all very boring for a sprightly and imaginative girl who longed for something to break the dull uniformity of life. As a child, Lucy had found solace and entertainment in toys, their silent company being the only substitute she had for playmates, but as of late her interest in them had started to wane. Even her favourite games had lost their flavour, and while she could spend hours in her secret attic, finding old forgotten treasures among the piles of debris accumulated there, they only managed to distract her for so long. As she grew older and more aware of herself and the world around her, Lucy's loneliness also deepened, along with her desire for a different life, one where she could do the things she wanted for a change.Therefore, it was natural that she gravitated towards anything out of the ordinary taking place in the château, and the arrival of her aunt Elisha was about as unusual as it got. She never came home unless something truly important was going on, like aunt Isabelle's wedding three years ago.
At the same time...it was confusing. Lucy didn't know of anything special happening in the near future, and even she would have heard otherwise. So, what was her aunt doing there? The question flitted briefly through her mind as she watched Elisha with large, eager eyes, filled with a sense of the exotic just by being next to her. At the same time her towering frame clothed in clothing reminiscent of a soldier's garb felt rather imposing, and combined with Lucy's hero-worship of her aunt, made for a somewhat intimidating combination.
"Hello there!" Elisha replied and cracked a smile - phew! she wasn't upset, was Lucy's immediate thought, "Why, yes... I have come home..."
A somewhat awkward silence descended between them, but Lucy wasn't aware of it: she kept beaming up at her aunt in anticipation, though beneath the thin veneer of her restraint bubbled her eagerness to find out more.
"So, Lucy" Elisha continued, "my how you've grown! I remember at your aunt Isabelle's wedding you were only this big".
She remembered! So accustomed was she to being forgotten, Lucy swelled with sudden pride that her most famous of relatives remembered her, and even noticed she was no longer the small, skinny little girl she'd been three years ago. Still skinny to the point of seeming waifish, Lucy took pride in the couple of solid inches she'd grown since, her body beginning to show the first budding signs of womanhood. She was no longer a child, thankyouverymuch.
"And that is a pretty dress! Why you look much more the noble lady than your aunt Elisha, don't you?"
Lucy's smile became a veritable grin at these words: her heritage had always been a cause of discomfort for her, supposedly being Noble Born with all the duties it entailed, but at the same time denied most of the perks of nobility. The dress was a good example: even in its faded, outdated condition, it held far more elegance and glamour than any of Lucy's own, and she enjoyed pretending she gained some of that while wearing it.
"So what brings you down here anyway?” Elisha continued, bringing Lucy's attention back to the present matter. “Did you come just to welcome me back?"
Again, she wondered at the reason for her return, and then, it hit her: what if...what if she had finished her schooling, and was now free to go home? Lucy had no real idea how long a Bene Gesserit's training took to complete, but she did know Elisha had left Allanor as a small child, long before she was born, and to her that felt like ages and ages. Yes, that might very well be it, and her eyes glowed with awe at the thought of standing before a genuine Bene Gesserit Sister.
“Yes!” the girl announced brightly, fiddling with the too wide hems of her dress. “I saw you come in from my hidden room....but that's a secret” she added, as though to emphasize the point, and experienced a strange sort of camaraderie simply by sharing that fact with Elisha.
“How come you're back? Nobody said anything about it.” Lucy dared after a moment's hesitation. “Are you...are you done? Are you a Bene Gesserit now?”
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Post by Elisha Montague on Oct 16, 2010 11:17:01 GMT 1
The girl grinned as Elisha mentioned her dress, clearly enjoying the compliment in spite of the garment's worn and faded state. It occurred to Elisha that she wouldn't expect this reaction if the dress was something shameful she was forced to wear every day. Perhaps it was in fact a dressing up costume, memories from her own younger years on Wallach reminding her that girls had an almost instinctive need to dress up, but she had jumped to conclusions probably because subconsciously she just wanted something else to get angry at her father about.
Assumptions are dangerous. They are comfortable traps that can kill you with a soft embrace. Trust not your eyes and ears alone, as what we see and hear is rarely the whole picture, and neither trust only your thoughts for it is often easier to slip into a pleasant fantasy then accept hard reality. Rather temper your senses with your analytical mind; see the truth and confirm it.
She could already hear Reverend Mother Kovacha's voice in her head. With luck she would never have to look the awful woman in the face ever again, but that did not deny the wisdom of her words. She needed to hold tight to the useful things the Bene Gesserit had taught her even though she was now free of their suffocating restrictions.
"Yes!" Lucy finally said in answer to Elisha's question while playing with the hem of her dress, "I saw you come in from my hidden room....but that's a secret"
A smile fluttered on Elisha's lips at the mention of a hidden room. She didn't doubt that the Chateau must offer many great places for a playful youngster to hide, indeed she had explored some of them herself in the now almost forgotten years of her early childhood, before she had been sent away. For all she knew Lucy's den wherever it was might even have once been hers, although she could probably never really know since those memories had long since been overtaken by subsequent years of Sisterhood training. She wondered if Lucy had explored the cavernous cellars which went down many levels beneath the building and were rumoured to connect to an even larger network of natural caves going deep into the mountainside. Popular legend held that a number of androids from the Chateau's pre-Butlerian past had fled down there to escape the attacking jihadis and were never caught. Of course that was just a ghost story told to frighten children, but it had been enough to deter five year old Elisha from going down beyond the first level. Perhaps Lucy had been braver; she looked to have a mischievous curiosity about her which in spite of her general antipathy towards children Elisha found rather appealing, and which would make it all the harder to crush her expectations when the truth about the expulsion came out.
"How come you're back?" Lucy continued, with the follow-up question Elisha knew would be coming, "Nobody said anything about it. Are you...are you done? Are you a Bene Gesserit now?"
Elisha had been dreading this. She was no stranger to lying of course, not to the Proctors, not to the fawning bootlickers who followed them, nor on rare occasions even to her friends. However there was something distasteful about lying to a young girl, looking up at her with wide trusting eyes; it seemed wrong on an instinctive level. There was also the practical consideration that she would not be able to keep the reasons for her homecoming secret forever, so perhaps she may as well start telling people now. How to do it though? Well there was nothing to say that she couldn't attempt to put a positive spin on the situation, and perhaps there were even advantages to be had in getting her side of the story out before her father managed to poison everyone's minds against her.
"Well, Lucy" she began, trying to affect an upbeat positive tone, "I've decided that the Bene Gesserit aren't for me."
A troubled look began to spread across the little girl's face and Elisha realised she would be wise to follow up with some explanation before the even more awkward questions came. She hoped that she would be able to sound convincing.
"Listen" she began, "Has your mother, or more likely your grandfather, ever told you that you can't do or have something and offered no explanation besides because I said so or that's the rules? Well the Bene Gesserit can be like that, are like that most of the time really. They teach wonderful empowering skills of course and I know things now that I'd never have learned without going to Wallach, but they are rigid and unbending. They expect loyalty to traditions for no better reason than that they are traditions, and if you argue or even just ask why then they call you difficult and a rebel. That's why I've come home, Lucy, because I want to live my life by my rules and learn from my own mistakes. The Sisterhood would say different for sure but I think freedom makes us better people, better women."
She stopped, realising she sounded like she was giving a political campaign speech, and wondering just how much of it had gone right over Lucy's head. An awkward silence had descended upon la grand couloir, but nonetheless it had felt good to give her beliefs voice to someone. She certainly would not be able to discuss them with Lilith any longer.
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Post by Lucy Montague on Oct 16, 2010 11:24:36 GMT 1
Her aunt Elisha was a fully-fledged Bene Gesserit. With each flutter of her heart, Lucy became more and more convinced of that fact, a profound feeling of awe stirring her insides. Looking up at Elisha she saw more than just her aunt, she saw someone who existed on a level above mere mortals, and her imagination swirled with endless questions: what strange and formidable powers did she possess? Could she truly read minds, as it was whispered about the “witches”? Lucy didn't quite dare ask. She had grown up hero-worshipping Elisha, whom she saw as the only member of the Montague family who had broken free of Allanor and the dreary Chateau life, something Lucy herself longed to do. Therefore, if there was something Lucy didn't expect, it was her aunt taking that image and tearing it to pieces right before her eyes.
"Well, Lucy" Elisha began cheerfully enough, just before dropping the bomb: "I've decided that the Bene Gesserit aren't for me."
W-what? Within a blink of an eye, Lucy's brilliant grin evaporated right off her face, leaving behind an expression of utter bewilderment. Instinctively she averted her gaze, but slowly the girl's blue eyes began climbing towards Elisha's face again, confusion tinged with something akin to fear welling up in their depths. She didn't understand.
"Listen" Elisha followed with quickly, "Has your mother, or more likely your grandfather, ever told you that you can't do or have something and offered no explanation besides because I said so or that's the rules? Well the Bene Gesserit can be like that, are like that most of the time really. ”
The question was such a spot-on allusion to Lucy's discontent, she experienced a wave of instinctive affinity with her aunt that for a few moments emptied her of everything else. If she had been utterly dumbfounded before, unable to understand how someone could abandon the Bene Gesserit and return to Allanor, Lucy was now listening with fresh intent.
“They teach wonderful empowering skills of course and I know things now that I'd never have learned without going to Wallach,” Elisha continued, “but they are rigid and unbending. They expect loyalty to traditions for no better reason than that they are traditions, and if you argue or even just ask why then they call you difficult and a rebel.”
Lucy's brow furrowed, obviously struggling with the way Elisha's words tampered with her long-cherished image of the Sisterhood, finding it difficult to see them as flawed when she'd spent her entire life longing she could have been one of them. Lucy was accustomed to formal speech, it was the only sort her grandfather used with her, an example her tutors also followed, so she had no trouble following Elisha's flow, but the words remained alarming. She squirmed, feeling more and more uncomfortable under her aunt's scrutinizing gaze for reasons she could not even tell. Suddenly, Lucy wished she was back in the familiar security of her attic, but manners, as well as lingering curiosity, held her in place.
“That's why I've come home, Lucy, because I want to live my life by my rules and learn from my own mistakes. The Sisterhood would say different for sure but I think freedom makes us better people, better women."
The girl fervently pondered this; the part about wanting to live her own life made perfect sense, anchoring Lucy to the desire to understand Elisha's reasoning. For the first time ever, she looked at the half-mystical Sisterhood from a different angle, no longer seeing the awe-inspiring witches, proud and formidable, but ranks upon ranks of grim-faced women who sort of resembled her strictest tutor, ready to punish any attempt at disobedience. Elisha had been there, lived with them since before Lucy was born: if she said they were so, then it must be true; the girl accepted this with a surge of bitterness, at the same time feeling a renewed kinship with her aunt. Reduced to human dimensions in her eyes at that moment, Lucy believed they shared the same plight.
“You're right, I'm always told what I must do”, Lucy began quietly, “because I'm a Montague and a Noble Lady.” , uttering the final two words with barely concealed distaste. She paused, glanced hopefully at Elisha:
“What will you do now? I heard Mother and Grandfather talk about finding a suitable husband for me, but I don't want to be married, really, I don't!” Fear now tinged Lucy's voice, shone out of her wide eyes. “I want to live my own life too; I don't want to be like Aunt Isabelle, she always quarrels with Uncle Raphael – I know, I've listened in. He called her “barren” once. Or like Mother, who still cries at night because of him.”
Him, naturally, denoted the father Lucy had never met, having abandoned her pregnant mother and towards whom she harboured no tender feelings.
“If they try to make me, I'll run away.” she ended resolutely.
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Post by Elisha Montague on Oct 16, 2010 11:34:18 GMT 1
“If they try to make me, I'll run away.”
Those childish words of defiance from her young niece often drifted into Elisha's mind as over the coming months she struggled to integrate herself into family life at the Montague chateau with all of the cloying notions of duty and obedience which that entailed. It was far from easy, years away on Wallach IX having left even her immediate family about as familiar to her as the kind of distant cousins and uncles that one sees only at weddings and funerals, and the tension between her and her father was at times palpable. She and the Duke avoided each other as much as possible which was not too difficult in the large chateau and her mother, while outwardly kind and appreciative to have her youngest daughter back home, maintained a detached kind of distance in private that suggested her husband had been in her ear. Elisha's siblings were a fairly mixed lot and some were easier to get closer to than others. Emma kept to herself and stayed mostly in her own rooms, although Lucy was a frequent sight around the hallways and courtyards much to the Duke's annoyance. Isabelle was an infrequent visitor since her marriage and she remained mostly on the homeworld of House Novebruns, but when the two had the chance to speak Elisha got along with her tolerably well provided she ignored the occasional barbed comment about her exile from the Sisterhood. Sara and Elisha had never been close, Elisha finding her sister's interest in science and accountancy frighteningly dull and her lack of interest in fashion or men even worse. It also did not help that Sara's reserved nature and dislike of crowds made her useless as a socializing partner. It might have been expected that Elisha would grow closest to Karina, since the two were similar in age and both possessed of a feisty independent nature. However if Sara's science and book work were boring then Karina's endless discussion about acid rain and the state of Allanor's forests was even more so. Elisha was not much into the outdoors except for occasional hike as part of her Sisterhood-inspired fitness regime and she found the sight, and in some cases smell, of Karina's various enviro-political associates frankly repugnant.
No, it was actually her only brother Frederick to whom she came closest for forming a real familial bond. As the Duke's son and heir Frederick understood better than most the oppressive nature of nobility; he wanted to live his own life, to enjoy what remained of his youth while he could, but his father would not allow it. Becoming increasingly obsessed with securing a good match for his successor he constantly invited various tiresome young women from other Great Houses to the chateau for dinners and soirees, and Elisha sympathized greatly with Freddie regarding how tedious these could be. The Montague daughters were expected to be there as well even though the events were not organized for their benefit, and as the youngest among them with the cloud of her expulsion from Wallach IX still hanging heavy Elisha was the least able to resist being dragooned into attendance. More than once she and Freddie would sneak away to share a quiet drink on the veranda, leaving the vacuous young ladies to be bored by Sara's accounts of industrial fabrication or Karina's lectures on the evils of pollution, while they discussed what a burden their family and status could be.The nightlife around Williamsport was about as good as that on Wallach, and there was little better to be found elsewhere on Allanor. Her father gave her only the barest of minimum of spending money but fortunately Elisha had access to a modest trust fund which had matured while she was away, and using this she was able to finance a few trips to Kaitain and Gamont. It was on these trips that she finally started to feel properly alive for the first time since Lilith's betrayal and her exile from the Sisterhood, finally being able to taste the freedom which she had cherished and longed for during the hours of stuffy lectures at the Mother School.
Gamont was a veritable overload of hedonism and sexual licentiousness and many a night Elisha lost track of how many men she had been with, before collapsing into a drug-induced stupor and then doing it all over again the following evening. The clubs ranged from outrageous modern day interpretations of Old Terra's Roman orgies to pure degenerate pits of debauchery and the saying "anything goes" would be a gross understatement. On Gamont nobody cared who you were or what you were doing, all that mattered was how many different drugs you were taking and which deviant sexual practices you were prepared to partake of. Kaitain was altogether different. While the Imperium's pleasure world was bathed in sweat and sex the Capitol oozed refined decadence and dripped with glamour. Here everybody cared a great deal who you were and where you came from, and at first Elisha was fearful that her name would be mud thanks to her exile from Wallach. It seemed though that the combined efforts of her father and the Bene Gesserit themselves had kept a firm lid on the affair and almost wherever she went she found herself receiving exactly the right kind of attention that befitted the daughter of a Great House. She even found herself smiling as she announced herself as "Lady Montague" to the scowling doormen outside some of the more exclusive establishments. Even when she was exercising her newfound freedom though her mind often wandered back to Lilith and the Mother School. What would her one time best friend be doing while Elisha was indulging her animal passions on Gamont or seducing her way through the Sardaukar officer corps on Kaitain?
At times she felt bitter in the extreme, fervently hoping and wishing that the red haired daughter of House Piacevole was being subjected to the very worst and most degrading punishments that Miral Alechem could conceive. At other moments she felt a kind of wistful sympathy, hoping that Lilith was making the best of the choice she had made and doing well in her studies as an Acolyte. Mostly though she was just curious, constantly weighing the path she had chosen against Lilith's. When she was high on drugs and lust or sipping the finest wine and being serenaded by fawning admirers she was in no doubt that she had chosen correctly, but during those oppressive family engagements she sometimes confided in Freddie her doubts about turning aside from the road to Reverend Motherhood.
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Post by Elisha Montague on Oct 16, 2010 12:15:25 GMT 1
It was a little over a year since she had first returned home to Allanor and Elisha couldn't help but think back to that inauspicious occasion when once again she found herself waiting outside her father’s study. This time the door was tightly closed and there was no voice beckoning her inside, but she had been summoned and would therefore just have to wait. This time there was also no Lucy to distract her and indeed the Grand Couloir was deathly quiet, only serving to further agitate Elisha who was starting to get the distinct feeling that a serious talk about her future might be in order. Inside the Duke was planning exactly that.
"I see the logic in your words but I also see the potential for much to go wrong".
The Duke’s tone was skeptical. Ranulph de Malfoy, his chief mentat, had just brought to him a proposal regarding his wayward fifth daughter which he found bizarre and startling, but he had to confess also rather intriguing.
"I understand, your Grace” replied the mentat, “but I still calculate that this is a win-win scenario. If she does well in the job then we have found her a niche, and if she does poorly then we gain the ammunition we need to allow us to finally take more drastic action with her. There is an Old Terran saying, to give someone enough rope..."
"To hang themselves" replied the Duke, finishing the quote, "Yes I know it and I see what you are saying: give her the independence she so craves and she will either use it well or crash in flames. Still it's an awful risk to take with my business interests just to put an obstreperous girl to the test".
"Perhaps not such a risk”, the tone of de Malfoy’s reply suggesting that in typical mentat fashion he had researched all possibilities carefully, “According to her file she scored very highly in communication and liaison skills. It's not a Diplomatic Academy qualification to be sure, but that Bene Gesserit education has to count for something. Plus she would have a full experienced staff to back her up, and word is she's very popular among the Kaitain party set".
"Being popular doesn't make one a good diplomat" quipped the Duke acidly, "But I see your point about her education and the backup".
"Well the choice is of course yours, your Grace" replied de Malfoy solemnly, "Durnstone is retiring at the end of this month and either we must advertise for a replacement, or we go with my suggestion. Advertising and recruiting will cost money of course, while your daughter could walk right into the job and require only a very modest allowance".
The Duke's brow furrowed as he weighed the possibilities one last time, the comment about the expense of recruiting a new Ambassador piquing his instinct for austerity just as the mentat had no doubt calculated.
"Elisha! You may enter now".
It was about time, Elisha thought to herself as she finally rose from her seat and turned the fine brass door handle.
"Father" she said simply in greeting as she stepped into the Duke's minimalist and always supremely tidy study, along with the most modest tipping of her head that she could get away with as a token gesture of respect, "Mr de Malfoy".
"Elisha, my girl" began the Duke, obviously making an effort to sound agreeable; it always made her nervous when her father did that.
Her mind wandered back to the ill fated moment of her return when she had also stood in this office and her father had begun with false kindliness before launching into a furious tirade regarding her expulsion from the Bene Gesserit and the way she had let down the family.
"I've called you here because" he continued, "well to be candid about it, it's high time we found you some direction in life. I know you've had a lot to re-adjust to since your... since the unfortunate matter on Wallach, but to be candid once again it has come to the point where sloping about the family home just won't do any more. I'm sure you understand. However, de Malfoy here and I think we have just the opportunity for you to start doing your duty making a difference for this House again".
So this was it, was it? They'd decided to try and marry her off at last. Which of the snivelling little House Minor weasels was it going to be then? Daneville? Crowthorp? Surely not O'Hanlon. Well she'd refuse no matter which grasping pole-climber it was. She would endure disownment and banishment before she accepted forced marriage, damn it. She'd give up the noble life if she had to in order to preserve her freedom. She still had her Bene Gesserit fighting skills after all; if it came to it she could make a living as a mercenary or a bodyguard surely. However such thoughts were cut short by her father's next words, which were not at all what she'd been expecting.
"We want you to become our Landsraad Ambassador on Kaitain"
Elisha was stunned. Of all the things he could have suggested she'd never have thought of that. She remembered hearing somewhere that the present Ambassador was due to retire soon having served the family for nearly 40 years, but she'd simply filed that away as being a piece of trivia totally outside her concern. Why would her father want her to be an ambassador?
"Well, what do you think?" enquired the Duke, clearly a little disappointed that she hadn't upped and bitten his hand off at the offer already.
"It really is an excellent opportunity" interjected de Malfoy, astutely guessing that Elisha probably had little detailed understanding of what the role actually involved, "You'd be based on Kaitain and would receive a living allowance, the Assembly generally sits only five days a week so there would be time for socialising provided you keep on top of the paperwork, and the job really should not be onerous for one who has received your education".
"Father this is an amazing opportunity" she replied, putting the platitude out there to buy herself a few more seconds to think it over as the Duke eyed her expectantly.
It really did seem like a wonderful chance for her to spread her wings on the Capitol world, to be able to permanently get away from the dullness of Allanor and her family and to partake of the hitherto only rarely sampled Kaitain party scene on a regular basis. On the other hand she realised that she knew little of diplomacy beyond the communication and liaison classes she had taken at the Mother School, which admittedly she had scored highly in, and she would be going up against people who had spent years training for this role. Could she handle it? Yes, she decided she could. Here was a golden opportunity to seek her freedom and prove to Lilith, Alechem and all the others that she could make a positive contribution without having to submit to their stifling restrictions. She would grasp this chance with both hands and not allow the self-doubt the Sisterhood had tried to sow in her mind hold her back.
"I could be honoured to accept" she continued, reaching out to shake her father's hand as he offered it, and not paying the attention that perhaps she should have to the knowing look which passed between the Duke and his mentat advisor.
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Post by Elisha Montague on Oct 21, 2010 11:45:46 GMT 1
The day of Elisha’s leaving for Kaitain was marked with some rare pomp and celebration on Allanor. Although the Duke liked to keep such ostentation to an absolute minimum he was shrewd enough to realise that a little pageantry every now and then was a necessary part of the bread and circuses which the general population required, and so he had hit upon the departure of his new Ambassador to take up her post as being as good an excuse as any to get a bit of bunting out. To that end Williamsport was decked out with blue and gold, the workers had been given a rare day off, and a good-sized crowd was gathered at the spaceport to see the youngest daughter of House Montague off on her trip to the Capitol. Someone had even seen fit to attach colourful streamers to the gigantic Robot in Every Home sign. It was, by the usual standards of House Montague, very grand indeed.
Elisha herself was a little more at ease with such occasions now, having been back home for just over a year and been hauled out at numerous family parties and social gatherings, although the crowd still made her a little nervous she felt very over-dressed in the ludicrously puffy purple frock that her mother had picked out for her. Well, it kept her parents happy to see her looking a little more ladylike and she’d likely never have to wear the thing again once she settled into her new home and job anyway, so she decided to grin and bear it just this once. It was a time of new beginnings for her, not a time to be arguing and bringing up the past. This was probably about the only time she’d ever get to be the centre of attention anyway, so she might as well do her best to enjoy it; the entire family had turned out to see her off.
"Good luck, sis. Do us proud!" said Frederick with a broad smile, before adding in a slightly more discrete tone of voice, "and try not to let father ruin it for you".
"I'll miss you, Freddie" she replied, hugging him tight while trying not to snag her dress on the various medals that the Duke had made his son wear, even though he’d never done a day’s military service in his life.
She would miss him too, for more than anyone else during her stay on Allanor it had been Frederick who had been there for her.
"Goodbye Elisha. Remember that the Ixians are planning to release a new range of Holtzman engines next week, twenty-five percent more efficient than current models. If you can get in with a favourable bid for us it will mean thousands of new factory jobs".
Elisha smiled. She supposed this was Sara's way of trying to wish her well.
"Take care, Sar. It'll be a help to know that you're here pushing things along in the business" she replied, shaking the plump girl by the hand for she knew she could get embarrassed by public displays of affection, "But do try to have a little fun as well".
“Remember to make sure any deals you make are ethically and environmentally acceptable!” urged Karina, who looked like she shared Elisha’s discomfort at having been forced into a dress for the occasion, “I’ll be holding a protest outside your office if you don't!”
The wink she finished with made it obvious that she was not serious, for even Karina knew better than to openly protest about her own family’s activities. She focussed her efforts further down the food chain, on those companies who worked for the Montagues rather than being owned by them, and it was surprising what she had achieved really. Although they were not close, Elisha wished her well in these endeavours. It was perhaps thanks to her efforts that they could see the sun today rather than choking grey smog.
“I’ll do my best. Try not to get yourself disowned while I’m away; I thought I was going to be the first one father kicked out”.
Next up was Isabelle, no longer a permanent resident on Allanor, but who had made the trip specially it seemed. Even on an occasion like this Elisha couldn’t help but be a little suspicious; it was unlike Isabelle to put herself out for anyone unless she had something to gain or nothing at all better to do.
“Elisha! Darling! Moving to Kaitain, eh? I’m a little envious of you , you know, even though Raphael does take me there nearly all the time. Do try not to let father work you into the ground won’t you? Make sure you get out there and enjoy the social scene! I’ve heard some wonderful things about the kind of parties Ambassadors get invited to. Who knows? You might even get to meet the Emperor himself, or Crown Prince Elrood. Wouldn’t that be amazing?! By the way Raphael sends best wishes and is sorry he couldn’t be here, but he has important business on Chapterhouse”.
So that was why Isabelle had been free to attend. Although her sister would naturally make no mention of it, the reason for Raphael visiting Chapterhouse was obvious: he had decided to take a Bene Gesserit concubine at last. It was now four and a half years since the wedding with still no children forthcoming, so she could understand the Novebruns family taking steps to secure their succession, and of course Isabelle would remain his wife with all the rank and privileges that entailed. Nonetheless, knowing that another woman would be in your husband’s bed and having his children had to hurt. She felt a twinge of sympathy for the elder sister who she normally considered to be beyond ever needing it and hugged her tighter than she might otherwise have done.
“Don’t worry, Iss, I’ll party hard enough for the both of us and you are welcome to visit any time you like!”
She didn’t really expect to be taken up on the offer, for it would be unseemly for the wife of a nobleman to be seen socialising without her husband, but she felt good for having made it.
Finally among her siblings she came to Emma, making a rare public appearance along with her daughter Lucy. The young girl was looking far better dressed than when Elisha had first encountered her on that fateful day she returned home, the oversized and moth-eaten dress she’d been wearing then exchanged for a beautiful and well-fitting one in just the current style. That, together with the colourful ribbons in her hair and even a few small items of jewellery, seemed to suggest that the old Duke was prepared to put his hand in his pocket even for his illegitimate granddaughter when it came to public occasions like this.
“Hope it all goes well with the new job” began Emma, in a slightly stilted tone which only served to emphasise the fact that the two sisters had little to do with one another, “And I do hope Lucy can come visit and you’ll show her around one day when she’s older. I’d so love her to see Kaitain”.
That last part had sounded warmer, almost pleading, and Elisha knew well that Emma desperately wanted Lucy to escape the shadow of her conception and make something of herself in the universe.
“Of course, I’d be honoured” she replied, while privately doubting that her father would ever permit it, “And you take good care of yourself too Lucy. Remember that you’re your own person and nobody can take that away from you unless you let them”.
She came to her mother next. Like Emma, seeing the Duchess out and about at a gathering such as this was something of a rarity, although in her mother’s case it was simply a matter of valuing her privacy rather than being embarrassed about her history.
“You will take care, won’t you?” she said in the worried tone that all parents tended to adopt when their children leave home, “Kaitain is so big, so busy, so...”
“Mother I’ll be fine” replied Elisha, “Please don’t worry yourself”.
The embrace which fallowed was, like the one she had given to Emma, fairly formal and without much affection in it. She wasn’t close to her mother and had not become more so in the year since her return, suspecting that the Duke had encouraged his wife to keep her distance in case word of Elisha’s ejection from the Bene Gesserit did start to make waves.
Her father himself was last in the line of family members saying their goodbyes. Dressed in his finest General Bashar’s uniform, even though he had seen scarcely any more military service than his son, she did have to admit he looked every inch the part of planetary ruler. In spite of her general low-level resentment of him she did too concede that he was giving her a marvellous opportunity here. This would truly be a chance for her to make a name for herself, to do something good for House Montague without having to sacrifice her cherished ideals of freedom and independence; it was deeply preferable to being married off or hidden away like an embarrassment.
“Go on then, my girl. Make me proud! If you make a good fist of this then all that business with the Bene Gesserit will be forgotten I’m sure”.
“Thank you, father” she replied, “I’ll do my best. I really will”.
“I should hope so!” replied the Duke in his more usual gruff tone, “And don’t get used to this kind of travel either. This is just part of the show for the masses; when you’re going about your duties I expect you to be more frugal”.
Elisha smiled, and cast a brief glance at the immense House Montague frigate which would be her transport to Kaitain. Indeed it was quite unusual to see one of these craft brought out of the dock, and as he had just reminded her the Duke expected her to keep her expenses to a minimum while performing her ambassadorial duties, so she would probably be making a lot of use of the public shuttle service. It didn’t matter though; she didn’t need glitz and glamour when doing her job, provided she could get her fill of them when she went partying afterwards. With a final hand-shake from her father she took a few steps up the boarding ramp before turning to wave to the assembled crowds. A cheer went up and, just for a moment, Elisha really and truly felt like the daughter of a noble Great House. As she took one last look out across her home city she turned her mind towards what would be waiting for her on Kaitain. New challenges there would be for sure, although hopefully a goodly amount of fun and pleasure too, but perhaps most importantly it would be a chance for her to at last spread her wings and never have to think about Lilith Piacevole or Miral Alechem again.
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