Shadows See All
Let's face it, during her training Alanna had a lot of close calls that almost revealed her as a girl. Luckily for her (or maybe it was more of the goddess' protection than luck) no one other than Myles ever guessed her true identity. Or did they? Her friend Francis of Nond was shy and quiet, and a very observant shadow...
Disclaimer: All the characters and places in this story belong to Tamora Pierce.
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Francis of Nond nervously peered into the mirror, his sharp eyes searching every inch of his reflection for anything that might attract unwanted attention from Duke Gareth. To his great relief, his unruly blond curls had for once decided to take a rest from their war against his comb.
He straightened his gold tunic one last time, swiped a stray bit of dirt from his nose, and turned away from the looking glass, determined to not worry himself further about his appearance. He knew he was clean and neat enough to meet even his mother's high standards. Duke Gareth would find nothing at fault with him.
As he pulled on his freshly polished boots, he couldn't help but marvel at his misfortune. It was just his luck that this year he was assigned to wait on the training mater every night. Francis couldn't remember another time in all his fourteen years that he had been as nervous.
He was so nervous in fact, that when his best friend Raoul of Goldenlake pounded nosily on his door as he done everyday for the past three years of their training, he jumped two feet into the air.
"Come on, Francis, time to inspect the new page Gary says has joined our ranks!" he called cheerfully.
"Coming Raoul," Francis called. Against his will, he took one last look in the mirror, his blue eyes meeting his reflection's identical ones. Tearing away from his own measuring gaze, he pulled open the door and slipped out into the page's wing.
"What took you so long? You took as long as a girl to get ready!" Raoul said jokingly.
Francis reddened slightly, but he began to relax. Raoul's easygoing manner had the power to make even a condemned man forget his worries.
"I just didn't want a sloppy appearance to get me in trouble with Duke Gareth on the first night of serving," Francis admitted quietly.
"Oh, that's right, you've got to serve his table this year," the page answered with a grin, "It's been nice knowing you my friend." He said.
"Nice knowing him?" a new voice asked, "Of course it's been nice knowing our Francis, else wise your Dancer might have danced you right onto the ground. I never met a lad who can handle a horse better, except maybe Stefan. But why might you cease to know milord of Nond?"
The voice belonged to Gareth the Younger of Naxen, another of Francis' friends. He had caught up with Francis and Raoul and now matched their brisk pace.
"Francis's got to serve your father at dinner this year," Raoul informed him.
Gary whistled, "My sympathies Francis."
"Your sympathy isn't worth much Gary, you think anything that gets someone else in trouble in funny." Alex of Tirragen said lightly as he slipped out of his room. To Francis he asked, "Is it true what Raoul said, you've got to serve Duke Gareth?"
Francis nodded in reply. He had never been very good with words. While everything came out right on paper, his words never seemed to work when he spoke. As a result, he appeared shy and preferred to keep his thoughts to himself.
"I wish you luck," Alex said sincerely.
The four boys halted in front of another door towards the end of the hallway.
"Jon, hurry up, we're going to be late!" Gary called. Prince Jonathan, a third year page, was the fifth member of their circle. Francis considered him to be their leader. Jon had a manner about him that made people instantly respect him, and not just because he was heir to the Tortallan throne. Francis admired him for it and followed the younger boy's lead without question.
Gary raised his large fist to knock on the door, rolling his eyes at Raoul, Alex and Francis.
"His royal highness just loves to keep us waiting," he said quietly in jest to them. However, he didn't notice that Jon had already opened the door and heard his remark. Francis and Alex grinned widely and Raoul laughed outright, not at Gary's joke, but because the youth had unknowingly begun to knock on Jon's forehead.
"Gary!" Jon yelled to his cousin as he pushed Gary's big arm away. Seeing Gary's sheepish grin, the prince's anger faded and he too began to laugh.
Faintly under the laughter, Francis heard the palace bells toll that it was a half an hour until diner.
"We'd best get going, the bells just rang," he informed them quietly.
"Ears like a cat that one has," Jon said shaking his head, "I didn't even hear them. Let's go," He led the way down the hall, Raoul, Gary, Alex and Francis following close behind. When they turned the corner, Jon stopped so suddenly that Gary almost walked into him.
"What is this?" Jon's cool voice rang out and instantly the commotion in front of him halted. Francis looked around Raoul's big figure to see what was going on. A large group of pages was watching as Ralon of Malvon picked himself up off the ground. The fourth year page was sneering maliciously at a small red headed boy. Both he and the other boy looked disheveled and Francis realized they had been fighting. He hoped the lad had gotten a few good hits in on Ralon. He hated Ralon more than he hated anyone else at the palace. From the first day of their training as pages, Ralon had picked on Francis because of his shy and quiet manner. The teasing and little bits of pain he had inflicted on Francis had not stopped until he had become friends with Raoul, Alex, and Gary.
As a first year page explained to Jon what had happened, Francis examined the new boy. He was just a little thing, so small that Francis wondered if he was really ten years old. His face was red with anger and embarrassment, almost as red as his hair. The oddest thing about the new boy however, were his eyes. They were a bright shade of purple that Francis had never before seen as an eye color.
From what he was hearing, the redhead had a bit of a temper on him. However, as the first year page continued to relate to Jon what had happened, the new boy looked more and more nervous. He looked almost as if he was embarrassed of his actions, Francis noted. The boy was staring uncertainly at the floor, biting his bottom lip. There was something very familiar about this miniscule action, but Francis couldn't put his finger on it. Jon dismissed Ralon with a promise to 'talk' to him later and they soon learned that the redhead was named Alan of Trebond.
Francis immediately liked him. Anyone who was an enemy of Ralon was a friend of his and anyway, he liked the way Alan always seemed to speak his mind. After Jon gave permission, everyone introduced himself to Alan, and Gary was chosen to be his sponsor.
Francis was about to remind Jon that they needed to get to the great dining hall, when the bell rang to summon them. Quickly, the pages rushed off, none wanting to be late on their first night of serving.
As Francis trotted next to Raoul, a thought struck him. He remembered why the way Alan had bit his lower lip looked so familiar. All three of his sisters did the exact same thing whenever they were hiding something.
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Please review and let me know what you think. I plan to update this story whenever inspiration strikes. It'll be a collection of separate chapter- story things where Francis notices what many others don't. It won't be too long though, because sadly Francis died before he ever got to speak more than four sentences in the book... this also make's it hard to write his character. Let me know if you have any suggestions. Thanks!
Let's face it, during her training Alanna had a lot of close calls that almost revealed her as a girl. Luckily for her (or maybe it was more of the goddess' protection than luck) no one other than Myles ever guessed her true identity. Or did they? Her friend Francis of Nond was shy and quiet, and a very observant shadow...
Disclaimer: All the characters and places in this story belong to Tamora Pierce.
ooooooo
Francis of Nond nervously peered into the mirror, his sharp eyes searching every inch of his reflection for anything that might attract unwanted attention from Duke Gareth. To his great relief, his unruly blond curls had for once decided to take a rest from their war against his comb.
He straightened his gold tunic one last time, swiped a stray bit of dirt from his nose, and turned away from the looking glass, determined to not worry himself further about his appearance. He knew he was clean and neat enough to meet even his mother's high standards. Duke Gareth would find nothing at fault with him.
As he pulled on his freshly polished boots, he couldn't help but marvel at his misfortune. It was just his luck that this year he was assigned to wait on the training mater every night. Francis couldn't remember another time in all his fourteen years that he had been as nervous.
He was so nervous in fact, that when his best friend Raoul of Goldenlake pounded nosily on his door as he done everyday for the past three years of their training, he jumped two feet into the air.
"Come on, Francis, time to inspect the new page Gary says has joined our ranks!" he called cheerfully.
"Coming Raoul," Francis called. Against his will, he took one last look in the mirror, his blue eyes meeting his reflection's identical ones. Tearing away from his own measuring gaze, he pulled open the door and slipped out into the page's wing.
"What took you so long? You took as long as a girl to get ready!" Raoul said jokingly.
Francis reddened slightly, but he began to relax. Raoul's easygoing manner had the power to make even a condemned man forget his worries.
"I just didn't want a sloppy appearance to get me in trouble with Duke Gareth on the first night of serving," Francis admitted quietly.
"Oh, that's right, you've got to serve his table this year," the page answered with a grin, "It's been nice knowing you my friend." He said.
"Nice knowing him?" a new voice asked, "Of course it's been nice knowing our Francis, else wise your Dancer might have danced you right onto the ground. I never met a lad who can handle a horse better, except maybe Stefan. But why might you cease to know milord of Nond?"
The voice belonged to Gareth the Younger of Naxen, another of Francis' friends. He had caught up with Francis and Raoul and now matched their brisk pace.
"Francis's got to serve your father at dinner this year," Raoul informed him.
Gary whistled, "My sympathies Francis."
"Your sympathy isn't worth much Gary, you think anything that gets someone else in trouble in funny." Alex of Tirragen said lightly as he slipped out of his room. To Francis he asked, "Is it true what Raoul said, you've got to serve Duke Gareth?"
Francis nodded in reply. He had never been very good with words. While everything came out right on paper, his words never seemed to work when he spoke. As a result, he appeared shy and preferred to keep his thoughts to himself.
"I wish you luck," Alex said sincerely.
The four boys halted in front of another door towards the end of the hallway.
"Jon, hurry up, we're going to be late!" Gary called. Prince Jonathan, a third year page, was the fifth member of their circle. Francis considered him to be their leader. Jon had a manner about him that made people instantly respect him, and not just because he was heir to the Tortallan throne. Francis admired him for it and followed the younger boy's lead without question.
Gary raised his large fist to knock on the door, rolling his eyes at Raoul, Alex and Francis.
"His royal highness just loves to keep us waiting," he said quietly in jest to them. However, he didn't notice that Jon had already opened the door and heard his remark. Francis and Alex grinned widely and Raoul laughed outright, not at Gary's joke, but because the youth had unknowingly begun to knock on Jon's forehead.
"Gary!" Jon yelled to his cousin as he pushed Gary's big arm away. Seeing Gary's sheepish grin, the prince's anger faded and he too began to laugh.
Faintly under the laughter, Francis heard the palace bells toll that it was a half an hour until diner.
"We'd best get going, the bells just rang," he informed them quietly.
"Ears like a cat that one has," Jon said shaking his head, "I didn't even hear them. Let's go," He led the way down the hall, Raoul, Gary, Alex and Francis following close behind. When they turned the corner, Jon stopped so suddenly that Gary almost walked into him.
"What is this?" Jon's cool voice rang out and instantly the commotion in front of him halted. Francis looked around Raoul's big figure to see what was going on. A large group of pages was watching as Ralon of Malvon picked himself up off the ground. The fourth year page was sneering maliciously at a small red headed boy. Both he and the other boy looked disheveled and Francis realized they had been fighting. He hoped the lad had gotten a few good hits in on Ralon. He hated Ralon more than he hated anyone else at the palace. From the first day of their training as pages, Ralon had picked on Francis because of his shy and quiet manner. The teasing and little bits of pain he had inflicted on Francis had not stopped until he had become friends with Raoul, Alex, and Gary.
As a first year page explained to Jon what had happened, Francis examined the new boy. He was just a little thing, so small that Francis wondered if he was really ten years old. His face was red with anger and embarrassment, almost as red as his hair. The oddest thing about the new boy however, were his eyes. They were a bright shade of purple that Francis had never before seen as an eye color.
From what he was hearing, the redhead had a bit of a temper on him. However, as the first year page continued to relate to Jon what had happened, the new boy looked more and more nervous. He looked almost as if he was embarrassed of his actions, Francis noted. The boy was staring uncertainly at the floor, biting his bottom lip. There was something very familiar about this miniscule action, but Francis couldn't put his finger on it. Jon dismissed Ralon with a promise to 'talk' to him later and they soon learned that the redhead was named Alan of Trebond.
Francis immediately liked him. Anyone who was an enemy of Ralon was a friend of his and anyway, he liked the way Alan always seemed to speak his mind. After Jon gave permission, everyone introduced himself to Alan, and Gary was chosen to be his sponsor.
Francis was about to remind Jon that they needed to get to the great dining hall, when the bell rang to summon them. Quickly, the pages rushed off, none wanting to be late on their first night of serving.
As Francis trotted next to Raoul, a thought struck him. He remembered why the way Alan had bit his lower lip looked so familiar. All three of his sisters did the exact same thing whenever they were hiding something.
oooooooooo
Please review and let me know what you think. I plan to update this story whenever inspiration strikes. It'll be a collection of separate chapter- story things where Francis notices what many others don't. It won't be too long though, because sadly Francis died before he ever got to speak more than four sentences in the book... this also make's it hard to write his character. Let me know if you have any suggestions. Thanks!