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Married In	By : healerrennie8503 Category: +S through Z > WW: World of Darkness Views: 3449 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own WW: World of Darkness, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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As Nicholas had told them,
Marianne, Catherine and her nurse arrived at a manor of yellow stone with great
wooden doors at the top of gray stone stairs. A line of, Marianne presumed,
lesser nobles and servants, were lined up on the side of the stairs that the
carriage had arrived from.
Marianne�s awe at such
beautiful surroundings was quelled when Nicholas got down from the coachman�s
seat and held out the reins to one of the men in line, who accepted them with a
bow. Another woman bustled forward and foisted a cloak on him that he accepted
with the manner placating a trying and overly doting woman. Marianne wasn�t
always the best in protocol but obviously, she�d been tricked and quite smartly
at that.
�My ladies, if you�d care
to disembark so the stableman can take care of the horses and carriage, we have
arrived,� Nicholas said with a short knock on the carriage door. The nurse, grumbling sourly to be heard even by Marianne outside,
exited first, followed closely by the curious Catherine.
Marianne, very suddenly
unsure of herself, slowly edged her way to the side of the carriage along the
small platform. As she finally made it to the side, a gust of wind pi up, up,
blowing her heavy coal gray cloak out behind her, revealing the heavy black,
light gray, and burgundy dress, and whirling snow into her face, which she
tried to shield with an arm flung over her face. This maneuver nearly cost her
the precarious balance she had with her multiple skirts but thankfully didn�t
cause her to make a rather graceless entrance.
She took Nicholas�s hand,
which he�d been offering while she recovered herself, and stepped down
carefully, aware of the intense scrutiny she was under. She blushed, knowing
her face was practically glowing red but at least a part of that could be
attributed to the cold she�d been in since that morning.
�Lady Marianne de Pottier,
allow me to welcome you to волк-луна
замок, or as you would
say ��
�Ch�teau Loup-lune,�
Marianne said quietly along with him, having been able to understand the
Russian.
Nicholas then started
directing the servants to take in the ladies� luggage and other such orders as
one would make upon one�s return. Marianne didn�t move as the bustle began, nor
did she move until it was finished, staring all the while at Nicholas� back.
Her nurse and Catherine were shown inside but Marianne didn�t follow.
When Nicholas turned to
face her, she averted her eyes quickly and curtsied. Judging from the silence,
Marianne could only guess that she had surprised him.
She waited for what she
deemed a proper amount of time and then asked, �May I approach, your Grace?�
She took a chance and looked up through her eyelashes at Nicholas. His
expression was guarded and blank so she continued to wait in her curtsy.
Not long after she had
asked that, he said, �Look around, little girl.� Marianne felt herself bristle
slightly at the term �little girl� as she stood upright but quashed it quickly.
She did as he told her to,
looking around. The carriage had been moved so she had a clear view of the
frosted fountain that was still running even this late in the year. The snow
had been cleared from the roads all around or at least packed down. Beyond the
sizable clearing were the evergreen trees they�d been traveling through.
Snow frosted the large
mansion, making it seem more like a gingerbread house or something out of a
fairy tale.
�This is no court you�re
used to, Mademoiselle de Pottier. Come with me. We�ve much to discuss.�
Marianne heard his boot
heel crunch on the road as he turned. She turned as well and followed him up
the steps and into the house.

Marianne had heard every
word that Nicholas had just said but she found it hard to believe. Everything
about it answered some unknown question in her heart though, which only
confused the poor noble girl further. In all her seventeen years, she had heard
the fairy tales but never put any credit to them.
They were in his study. It
was filled with books and scrolls and other forms of literature, and his desk
was littered untidily with paper and books and paperweights. He sat behind his
desk in a rather large and comfortable looking chair. She sat across from him,
stunned to silence, in a, albeit not as comfortable, chair but it was well
cushioned on the seat, armrests, and back.
He had told her about the
werewolves, the �Garou�. Nicholas had expounded on everything from their
history to current times, the Garou hierarchy, the various tribes, and
different packs. His own opinions colored the entire homily[i].
�Marianne,�
Nicholas started hesitantly, as if unsure of her current disposition towards
him, �of all the things I�ll ask of you, I need you to believe me the most. Do
you believe me?�
Marianne stared at him,
unsure in her mind but sure in her gut.
�Yes.�
Nicholas seemed to sag in
relief at her affirmative. He was brought up short by her clearing her throat
however.
�May I ask a question of
you, if it is not too bold of me to do so?� Marianne asked tentatively. When he
nodded, she asked, �Why me? Or rather, why ask for a bride from my family?�
�Something I didn�t cover
entirely,� Nicholas started somewhat apologetically. �My tribe, the Silver
Fangs if you�ll recall, prides itself on our breeding. Most would breed with
their Kinfolk without bothering to check how closely they were kin. It�s almost
as bad as violating the Litany. I went through a fair bit of trouble finding a family that was still Silver Fang Kin yet not close enough
to be at risk for some of the problems inherent with too close of a pairing.�
�Inbreeding,� Marianne
summarized bluntly. �You chose the Pottiers because you were worried about
inbreeding.�
�To put not to fine a point
on it, yes,� Nicholas answered, and then proceeded to sift through some papers
piled on his desk. �Now I understand that you were sent with a dress proper for
the occasion?�
�Yes, milord, I was,�
Marianne responded, suddenly brought back down to earth with the reminder of
why she was here.
�I�ll have none of this
�milord� business, Marianne.� At this, Marianne looked up and found Nicholas
standing before her. He pulled her gently to her feet by taking her hands in
his. �The local Black Furies would pitch a fit if my wife were the least bit
passive,� he added with a grimace. �However, and look
at me, Marianne,� he continued, and with his hand under her chin, he forced her
gaze up to look as fas face, �there is one place
where I will require your submission to me. Am I understood?� Nicholas�s stare
bored into the French noble, frightening her but she couldn�t be sure that was
the only thing making her heart beat just that much faster.
�Yes� Nicholas,� Marianne
responded, flushing slightly. Nicholas removed his hand from under her chin and
moved beh behind his desk.
�Good� Now go. There is
someone outside to show you to your temporary rooms. The marriage will be on
All Hallows Eve in the Great Hall. I�ll send someone for you if we should need
to speak again.�
Marianne nodded and left
the room, unsure of whether or not this had been such a bright idea to avoid
the convent as she originally thought.

[i] Homily is synonymous with lecture,
speech, tirade etc. I chose �homily� because it fits with the era (which is the
1400�s) and with the character�s perspective.

Werewolf: the Apocalypse is property of
White Wolf Publishing, which I unfortunately don�t have any sort of part in so
I don�t own the basis for this story� However, I do own the characters within.
*grins* Marianne Goddard de Pottier, Catherine Dathyra, the nurse, Nicholas
Elexei Chechov and the mysterious �his Grace� are mine. Whee� Lemon stuff
probably around chapter three� Please R&R.
~Unknown Mortal
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