Tap tap tap tap tap tap tap-
A book was slammed shut. "Could you please, for the love of all things good and holy, stop tapping your pencil on the desk?!"
I halted in my pencil tapping and looked at Josie, who had an exasperated look on her face.
"Sorry," I replied sheepishly.
"You said that the last 18-"
"19!" corrected Lauren.
"The last 19 times I've told you off. You know you can go for a walk, right? You are allowed to leave the house."
"Only onto the grounds."
"So? You can still get outside. I know Francis isn't around, but honestly, it's three days. This is day two. You only have one more day left and you're acting like you've been locked indoors for 3 weeks."
I slouched down into my chair, folding my arms as I did so. "Feels like I've been locked up for 3 weeks," I mumbled.
Was I aware that I was acting like a child? Yes.
At this point in life, did I care? No.
Was not seeing Francis for 3 days going to kill me? No.
But did it feel like I was dying? Yes.
"Stupid feelings making me feel things," I muttered angrily.
Lauren sighed. "Honestly, (Y/N), you probably wouldn't feel this bad if you just went for a walk."
"What's the point?" I groaned dramatically, slouching so far down that I left my chair and was now laying on the floor.
"I'm starting to worry that he's going to jump out of the window," Edward piped up from his seat near the door.
"Wouldn't surprise me," the sisters said in unison.
I sighed and threw an arm across my face. "I'm bored," I whined.
"And we're bored of you complaining about being bored," snapped Josie.
Lauren sighed again. "Look, we know that you miss your French lover-boy-"
"Not dating."
"Your almost French lover-boy, but seriously, this sort of pining is only ever seen in romance novels or plays. Like Romeo and Juliet!"
"This is not like Romeo and Juliet."
"Yeah, they both die at the end," added Josie.
Lauren scoffed. "Well you and Francis better not die on us, understand? We've worked too hard for this."
I raised my eyebrows and looked up at them. "For what?"
"Huh?"
"Worked too hard for what?"
"Nothing. Lauren's just being an idiot again," Josie said. Her arms were folded and she was glaring at Lauren.
Strange. That doesn't happen a lot.
Lauren simply stuck her tongue out at her sister and went back to her sewing. She was fixing up an old pair of formal trousers she had found. So far, they were looking pretty good.
It was quiet for several minutes. Josie had resumed her reading - as had Edward - and I continued to stare at the ceiling. The problem with only having one main hobby was that if you got bored of that, then you practically had nothing else to do. Apart from laying on the floor and complaining about how you had nothing to do.
I wonder what Francis is doing?
I almost screamed at the intrusive thought. I did not want to think about Francis. The amount I thought about him was, in all honesty, starting to scare me.
Who cares what he's doing? It's probably boring pirate stuff... Except boring pirate stuff wasn't actually boring. I thought it all looked pretty cool, actually. Maybe he could give me some lessons on doing pirate things.
"Josie, throw your book at me," I stated plainly.
She didn't reply, but something hard hit my stomach and I yelped.
"Thanks," I groaned.
"No problem."
"Ouch, that probably hurt. Wasn't that your hardback copy of The Female Quixote?" snickered Lauren.
"Yes, yes it was," Josie responded proudly.
"If you are looking for distractions, I would suggest doing something less detrimental to your health," chided Edward.
"Oh come on, Ed! It's pretty funny seeing him act like a total muppet. Do I get to throw a book at you too?" asked Lauren excitedly.
Ignoring Lauren's overly-enthusiastic question, I sat up and looked over at Ed. "Have you got any suggestions on what I should be doing then?"
He thought for a moment. "How about ballroom dancing?"
A look of confusion crossed my face. "I'm sorry, what?"
"They always have a dance at the town hall during summer, don't they? Maybe you could brush up on your skills in preparation. It will give you something else to think about."
Josie stood up in a flash, a devilish grin plastered onto her face. "Alright lazy bones, get your ass off of the floor."
"I assume I don't have a say in this?"
"Not in the slightest."
With that, we began. I hadn't danced in a while and Josie's insistence at being the lead meant that it didn't start out so well. In fact, I was trampling all over her feet after every few steps.
"Ouch! Stop stepping on my feet!"
"Well slow down then!"
"It's not my fault that you're too slow!"
"You shouldn't even be leading the dance!"
"Are you telling me that because I'm a girl I can't lead the dance?"
"Traditionally, no, you can't."
"Well screw tradition! You can't lead it because you suck!"
"I do not suck! I'm just a bit out of practice."
"Whatever."
Lauren and Edward were both giggling away in the corner of the room at how stupid we looked. I didn't blame them.
"Right, follow my lead okay? One two three, one two three, one two three... Yeah, like that!"
It took quite a while to get into a rhythm, which we both blamed on the lack of music. Besides Lauren and Edward making the occasional snarky comment or sound of laughter, and Josie telling me how awful I was, there was no other noise in the room. When we did eventually find a rhythm, and when I had stopped stepping on Josie's toes every other step, we weren't too bad. She was actually very good at leading the dance. Not that I was going to tell her that. I didn't need to. She knew that she was right, and I wasn't going to boost her ego.
Lauren and Edward clapped after we finished a whole routine off without any hiccups.
Before anything could be said though, there was an urgent-sounding knock at the door before it opened, revealing a very tired looking Ava.
"Clark says... there's someone... in the stables... here to see you," she panted, pointing towards me.
"Did you run the whole way up here?" asked Lauren.
She nodded and held her side. "I think... I've given myself... a stitch."
"Ouch."
Ava nodded again.
"Do you know who it is?" I questioned quickly, already moving towards the door.
She shook her head, too out of breath to elaborate.
I was practically rocking on the balls of my feet, excitement brewing inside of me. I had a good idea of who might be stupid enough to come waltzing onto my parents land and then hide in the stable barn.
"I'll be back in a bit," I said hastily, already halfway out of the door.
"Oh yeah, I'll guess we'll just cover for you!" Josie commented sarcastically.
"Great, thanks!" I almost yelled back as I rushed along the hallway, not caring if someone heard. At this point, I wasn't thinking of anything else other than a certain French captain.
*
"Captain Francis Bonnefoy, what type of idiocy possessed you to think that this was a good idea?" I questioned, grinning like a maniac while leaning against the stables door frame.
His smile was broader than I'd seen it before, and the only thing brighter than it in that moment was his necklace, and only because the diamond was reflecting the sunlight streaming in through a few holes in the roof. He almost ran over to me from where he'd been talking to Clark, enveloping me in a warm hug.
I immediately returned it, hugging him tightly.
"I'm so glad you're okay, mon chéri," he whispered in my ear.
"Apart from being grounded for 3 days, I'm all good," I whispered back.
We pulled away (sadly) and Clark's chuckle caused us both to look over at him.
"I think I'll leave the two of you to your little reunion," he mused, "As a tip, I'd say stay inside the stables and keep the doors closed so that no one can see you."
"Thank you, Clark."
"Merci, mon ami."
"No problem. Take care."
He nodded towards the both of us before leaving, closing the large doors behind us.
I turned back to Francis and smacked his arm.
"What the absolute fricken hell are you doing here? Do you know how dangerous this is for the both of us?"
"The fact that you have a fond smile on your face, mon chéri, tells me that you are, in fact, happy to see me."
"Just because I'm smiling that doesn't mean I'm not scolding you for being an idiot."
"Oui, that is true, but," he pulled me closer to him, arms around my waist and his head resting on my shoulder, "it does mean that you will forgive me, mon chéri."
I hesitated for a moment before returning the embrace, wrapping my arms around his back. "I missed you, so yeah, I forgive you. But you're still an idiot."
He chuckled and held my tighter. "Oui, I know. I missed you too, (Y/N)."
My heart skipped a beat as he said my name.
We stayed like that for a few minutes, not that I minded. His coat smelled of wine and sea salt, a combination that I thought was perfect. He was also wearing his purple coat, much to my delight.
What happened to draw us apart was the echoing sound of a plaintive coo.
Raising my head, I was mildly bewildered to find a pair of turtle doves nesting in the high beams of the barn.
"Turtle doves," I mumbled.
"They are beautiful, no?"
"Oui. It's just... unusual for them to be here."
One of them was settled in the nest and its pair was standing on the beam a few paces away. The coo echoed through the barn again, started by one and repeated by the other. The tragic timbre of their call reverberated around the open space, the few horses in the stalls completely still and silent.
"They are often called a Pitying or a Piteousness of Turtle doves because of their sad call," I explained, "The former term was the first one to appear in print in the fifteenth-century 'Porkington Manuscript of Middle English'."
"Porkington?"
I could hear his amusement, and I chuckled slightly. "Yeah. A weird name, right?"
"Very," he agreed, a small laugh escaping him.
"Before then, 'a dule of doves' was the accepted collective noun. That's the term that appears in the fourteenth-century 'The Book of St Albans'. It was derived from the word 'dole', which can mean-" I cut myself off. "Sorry. I'm rambling."
"Don't be sorry, mon chéri," he said, looking rather confused, "I find it intriguing that you know so much. I like it. Why would you consider it rambling?"
"Oh, well, I've often been told that it's not necessary information, so I shouldn't share it," I replied awkwardly, scratching the back of my head and averting my gaze.
"It may not be necessary, mon chéri, but it is interesting." He entwined his fingers with mine and I looked at him. He was smiling softly. "I believe that the English term 'dole', mon chéri, meaning 'sorrow or grief' is derived from the Old French word 'doel', meaning 'mourning'."
"And the Old French is derived from the Latin 'dolere', which means to feel pain or grieve," I finished.
His gaze turned upwards towards the Turtle doves, whose cooing had not stopped since we had first heard them.
"I think it is rather sad, though, mon chéri."
"Hm?"
"That they are associated with mourning and grief. Such beautiful birds, and yet such a sorrowful descriptor."
"I suppose so. However, they are sometimes also known as a Truelove of Turtle doves. The term was inspired by the birds' lifetime devotion to a single mate."
"I much prefer that one." His voice was gentle, and when I glanced at him, he was looking at me.
Instead of my eyes returning to the birds above us, they stayed focus on his beautiful blue ones.
"Any particular reason for that?"
"I think it is more uplifting, mon chéri, not as melancholic as the others. Don't you agree?"
I smiled at him. "Oui. I do."
The sound of their call rang out around us, along with the flutter of wings as they shifted about. I had never really dwelled on their song before. But now that I was, I realised how sweet it sounded. It held an undertone of hope, almost, underneath all of the sorrow.
"If I was going to be a bird, I think I'd be a Turtle dove," I said.
"Really, mon chéri? Are they your favourite?"
"No. Actually, my favourite birds are (Favourite/Bird)s, but if I had to be one, I'd definitely be a Turtle dove. They have pretty feathers and I strangely find their call alluring."
"Then I would be one too, mon chéri."
"Oh? Why is that?"
Francis shifted closer to me, our faces now only several centimetres apart.
"So that I could meet you, mon trésor. They only have one mate for their entire lives, no?"
My breath hitched slightly as I gazed at him. We were still holding hands and his thumb caressed my knuckles. One thing I hadn't noticed before, somehow, was that he had shaved. I didn't know when, but the stubble that was usually present was barely there anymore. I had to fight the urge to run my fingers along his jawline.
"Can I see you tomorrow, mon chéri?" he asked quietly.
"I'm still grounded for another day." My voice was just as soft as his.
"Then the day after?"
"Of course. Where were you thinking of meeting?"
"The Eastern beach. The one with the tree growing on it."
"Not Le Dauphin?"
"No, mon chéri, not Le Dauphin. I will be bringing lunch, so is twelve o'clock okay?"
"Yeah. That's fine with me."
"Bien. I will look forward to it."
"Me too."
I spent several more hours with him, in the stables of course. I threw hay all over him and he returned the favour by pushing me into a mound of it. All he did was laugh when I complained about how I was going to find it everywhere for the next week or so. Francis was more than happy to spend some time with the few horses who were in there, and he seemed to be very good with them. I watched him interact with them; talking to them, feeding them, stroking them. The gentleness he expressed when he was with the horses made my heart swell.
Another point to add to the growing list of reasons why I loved him.
The only point that was reserved was number one.
It was reserved for the possibility that he told me that he loved me too.
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Woo! Hope you enjoyed me dumping a load of collective noun knowledge into your head. Hey, at least you now know where the title of this whole fanfiction comes from!
Also, I hope you're proud of me cos I didn't expect to be so consistent with uploads. I doubt it will last long though.
Until next time!
~a_probllama