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Married In	By : healerrennie8503 Category: +S through Z > WW: World of Darkness Views: 3448 -:- 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.

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Marianne Goddard de Pottier
knew what she was getting involved in when the petition for an alliance came
from one of the Russian noble families. She knew her duty to her family and
would uphold the Pottier house�s reputation and honor even if it meant agreeing
to an arrangement that was the only way for a woman of her status could go.
She
hated the idea of an arranged marriage, but she couldn�t do anything about it.
It chaffed at her pride and dignity greatly. Not seeing whom she was to be wed
to didn�t help improve her temperament either.
As the eldest unwed woman of the House
Pottier, she�d been chosen to wed this Russian, though Marianne had an idea
that it was also to get her out of their hair. She had the annoying habit of
speaking her mind at the most inopportune times, and no amount of discipline
had cured her of it. That was one benefit of going to Russia,
Marianne surmised. She�d read about Catherine the Great and other noble women
of note and she would hazard to guess that females weren�t lightly discarded as
breeding stock there.
Only
her nurse and one lady would come with her to the cold country eastward, and
the lady, in the letter proposing this arrangement, had to be of the most
trustworthy caliber. The lady would be sworn to secrecy and would be Marianne�s
responsibility. This puzzled many, not just Marianne, for why would the
accompanying lady become the woman�s responsibility. Russians verily had a
strange culture, if this were any example.
Her
nurse was also to be sworn to secrecy, though that was a moot point considering
that her nurse was getting rather old and hard of hearing. Surely, with her
marriage to this Russian nobleman and her duties no longer needed, she would
perish with the first winter. Marianne had heard the winters were harsh in Russia.
The
lady she had chosen, or rather the lady that had volunteered, for this trip was
someone that Marianne had almost discarded as an option. Lady Catherine Dathyra
had been looking at an arranged marriage to his lordship, the Mayor of
Marseilles, and Marianne wasn�t going to interfere with such arrangements until
Catherine had pleaded with Marianne�s parents to let her go with Marianne. Was
she not, after all, Marianne�s most trusted lady and not yet married herself?
Catherine
was great at telling only part of the truth and making those she told it to
believe that was all there was. She made herself out to be, not just the best
candidate for going but their only viable choice. She practically crowed with
exultation when alone with Marianne that she�d been able to get out of that
insufferable perverted old man�s grasp almost entirely on her own.
Her
parents had long ago sent their assenting response to the Russian�s proposal,
along with the name of the bride-to-be, and now they (and Marianne) were
waiting for the response to tell them where to send her. It was all they talked
about at dinner: when would she be �sent away�, like some parcel for delivery
instead of their only daughter. The Lord and Lady de Pottier were constantly
expressing their hope that a response would arrive soon so they could get the
journey under way before the first snow fell.
Her
younger brothers found great amusement in taunting her with sending her in a
box for her bridegroom to open upon her arrival. Quite a few times in these
circumstances, she had used whichever bound book she had on her person to slam
it shut on their noses. This always got her into trouble, despite the fact that
the two boys desperately needed disciplining for their misbehavior and lack of
respect for anyone older than them.
It
was almost the fall equinox before they heard any response and then everything
was a mad rush to get everything assembled. She was to be at the Russian border
by All Hallows Eve. Marianne had learned Russian as part of her schooling
before the arrangement had even been conceived as an idea and she spend a
majority of her time teaching Catherine what she could of the language they
would soon be immersed in.
Also
with the missive, there was a letter addressed solely to Marianne. It read
thus:

My Fair
Marianne Goddard de Pottier,
I
have heard much of your temperament from your parents, Lord and Lady de
Pottier, and I can surmise that you can�t be at all pleased with this sudden
arrangement. (At this, Marianne snorted contemptuously. �That�s an
understatement of truth,� she muttered and continued reading.) Please forgive
me but I hope that we can learn to work together for the common good of my
people. (�Oh great
Heavens above us! He needs a wife so he can have a bloody heir!� Marianne had
exclaimed derisively at that particular phrase. She�d been promptly scolded for
such language. Marianne rolled her eyes and resumed reading.)
I
feel that it is best if I remain anonymous to you until such a time as you can
see my face. I realize this may anger you further but this is my judgment and
you will have to learn to live with such. I will meet you in five weeks time at
the East Lithuanian crossing to my homeland. I look forward to seeing your face
as much as you are likely looking forward to seeing mine.
Sincerely Yours

Marianne
hadn�t been pleased at all by the letter. It left her more upset than she had
been previously. She even threw one of the vases that decorated her drawing
room against the wall, shattering it and dropping the flowers in it to the
floor. It wasn�t just that she didn�t know whom she was marrying but that that
person was deliberately hiding his identity from her!
All
too soon, Marianne, her nurse, Catherine and the escort of guards were being
bid safe journey in the early morning chill of late September. Marianne and
Catherine huddled together in their winter cloaks to keep warm while the nurse
was bundled in more than a few blankets.
She
spent the long days in her carriage with Catherine and teaching her Russian.
Her nurse had been allowed to sit in on her language classes so the old woman
was more than capable in the dialect, even if she was less than willing to
assist Marianne in her teaching.
It
was the twentieth of �Octobre�, a week and some days before All Hallows Eve,
and the traveling party was staying at the last town before they�d arrive at
the Russo-Lithuanian border. Thankfully the weather had been in their favor for
the drive there but they were holed up in the inn while the first snow of the
season fell in white whirlwind torrents.
�Who do you suppose he is?� Catherine
asked the night the storm finally had blown itself out. Catherine and Marianne
shared a room with the currently sleeping nurse. And since there were only two
beds (one large, the other nearly a cot), Catherine and Marianne shared the
large bed. They didn�t mind it. It meant they stayed warmer once the fire went
out in the room�s brazier.
�I
couldn�t hazard more than he�s not the king, or whatever they call them there�
or even one of the royal family. They like to stick to their own if you know
what I mean,� Marianne replied as she turned down the covers to their bed and
climbed in. Catherine followed suit shortly.
�They
do, don�t they? I mean� if every prince is supposed to marry a princess, then
pretty soon everyone�s everyone else�s cousin and you�re stuck,� Catherine
responded as she pulled the covers up over her and lay down on the soft, down
mattress.
�They
already are cousins. Why do you think they�re all off in the head?� Marianne
said in a low, conspiratorial voice.
�Mademoiselle!!!
That�s downright treasonous!� Catherine exclaimed quietly, sitting bolt upright
in the bed.
�Calm
down Catherine. I�m not going to say as much to their faces. I�m not that dim
in the brazier. And you�d be wise to keep this to yourself. Call it your first
confidentiality, if you wish but keep it in your head. Now good night,
Catherine. We have to be up with the sun to get to the border by midday. That
way, the company can get back here by dark.� With that small monologue, the
topic was closed and Marianne blew out the small oil lamp on the bedside
cabinet.

The
next day, the snow crunched under foot, wheel and hoof as the escorted and
those escorting neared the border crossing.
The
company made good time though. It was just an hour before midday that they
arrived at the border. The men broke out some spare timber they�d brought along
and made a small fire off to one side of the road and began cooking the day�s
rations. Marianne, in her thick winter cloak and clothes, started to
meander around through the guards, leaving Catherine and her nurse, who
Marianne thought was starting to ail already, in the carriage to sleep a little
longer.
Trees
surrounded the road, leaving only two man-heights between it and the forest�s
edge. Midday arrived and passed, and no sign of Marianne�s betrothed came to
the company. Catherine woke from her nap and she and Marianne made snow
sculptures to the best of the non-existent ability, and still no sign of
Marianne�s betrothed.
�We
have been traveling for weeks and now we wait in the snow for a mystery noble
and his entourage to take the girls off our hands. When, I say? When will they
arrive?� an annoyed guardsman asked no one in particular an hour past midday
while sitting on a stool by the fire. Marianne and Catherine were also by the
fire, but on the opposite side and closer to the trees. There were no stools
for the two girls and they stood.
�Now,
perhaps, would please you?� retorted a smooth and inflected voice in the
party�s native tongue but with a rather blatant Russian accent.
Marianne
whirled around on her heel, her cloak coming dangerously close to the flames, to
see who had spoken. The voice had come from behind her, of that she was sure.
When
her eyes refocused on their target, she saw a man of many seasons, perhaps in
his thirtieth decade with his black hair pulled back neatly into a long tail at
the nape of his neck and his mustache and beard neatly trimmed and cared for,
just a touch of silver starting to show in the dark tresses. He wasn�t bulky,
but neither was he sickly. Marianne couldn�t help but think he was attractive and
then blushed, turning her face away and pulling her hood to hide her face
further from the stranger�s gaze lest he be only the messenger and not her
fianc�.
�The
Lady de Pottier�s caravan, sir. And you are?� asked the guard commander, his
hand on his sword�s hilt, like the rest of his men, and ready to defend.
�My
name is Nicholas Elexei Chechov. I was sent by his Grace, the fair Lady�s
betrothed, to take the girls over the border into Russia,� the stranger says with a
nod to the commander and a bow to the ladies, whom were closer to him as it
was. Marianne let the hope that this was her husband-to-be die a swift death.
Nicholas was just the messenger, as she had feared.
�Very
well. Can you drive the carriage? Lord de Pottier instructed me that he didn�t expect
it back,� the commander asked. Nicholas nodded.
�I�m
more than capable of driving the Lady�s carriage. Thank you very much for your
services to his Grace�s bride-to-be.� At the possessive term, Marianne barely
restrained a hiss of displeasure at being considered a possession. However,
something in the way Nicholas had said it had made it sound not so, like she
was really a person.
�Very
well then, Monsieur Chechov. We�ll leave the girls and their carriage,� the
commander said then turned to his men. �All right. Clean up boys. We need to
get back to that town before dark and I�m not camping if we don�t.�
In
the following rush of activity, Nicholas approached the two ladies. Marianne
had calmed down from her blush, having firmly suppressed her fleeting crush on
her betrothed�s messenger. However, Catherine wasn�t nearly so lucky, and she
giggled slightly. This distracted Nicholas for a moment before he turned his
attention to Marianne.
�May
I inquire as to which of you is the young Lady Goddard de Pottier?� Nicholas
asked. Marianne again blushed, thinking his voice was very nice in French.
�I
am she,� Marianne responded, switching the dialect to Russian. Nicholas looked
shocked for but a moment before grinning.
�So
you do speak Russian, and not badly at that. This will please his Grace.
He was afraid he�d have to get someone to tutor you and your lady,� Nicholas
said, smiling the whole time, also in Russian.
�My
lady, Catherine Dathyra, has been learning the language since she was chosen
for this duty and, while having made admirable progress for the time given for
instruction, I believe it would be beneficiary to her if she continued her
lessons with someone more capable of teaching it.� Marianne wished that they
could just leave, her impatience starting to get away from her.
�Pardon
me,� Catherine started, somewhat annoyed. �I heard my name in that. If you
wouldn�t mind talking about me in a language I can actually understand?� she
asked with her arms crossed stubbornly.
�But
of course, Mademoiselle Dathyra. The fair lady here was complimenting your
skills in my native tongue but expressing her wish that you continue to improve
them,� Nicholas replied smoothly, switching back to French. �Now, I believe
that you two will want to get underway. Where�s your nurse, milady?�
�She�s
back in the carriage, sleeping,� Marianne responds.
Nicholas
nodded thoughtfully. �If you�d lead the way to the carriage, we�ll be able to
make it to his Grace�s residence well before dark,� Nicholas said, gesturing to
Catherine and Marianne to lead the way.
They
left the small camp long before the French escort was done clearing up.
Nicholas tried to entertain the girls by telling them some of the local lore
but found that they were disappointingly uninterested in anything he brought
up.
Marianne
kept her interest in what Nicholas had been saying buried under her growing
preoccupation with the decreasing distance between her and her fianc�. Softly
humming a nameless tune, she took out a thick book that she�d been reading on
the journey there. Her nurse, Diane Labelle, had awoken and was working on her
needlepoint, as was Catherine.
The
thought had passingly occurred to Marianne that she could be up front with
Nicholas but she didn�t trust herself to remain poised in the presence of the
attractive stranger. Then a part of her argued that she might as well make a
friend in him if �his Grace� turned out to be insufferable.
Cautiously,
as it had been quite a few years since she had attempted to do this trick in
skirts without looking undignified, she crawled out of the compartment and used
the railings and steps to get her to the coachman�s seat. When she was there,
startling Nicholas, she straightened herself out and wrapped her cloak tightly
about her before sitting next to him.
�You
could�ve asked and I would�ve stopped the carriage and helped you up here,
Mademoiselle,� Nicholas chided, regaining his composure. Marianne shrugged.
�My
apologies,� Marianne said shortly before peering around the trail they were on.
It was heavily wooded with the same evergreen trees that Nicholas had seemed to
appear from, and the trees practically brushed the carriage for how close they
were to the trail.
�His
grace appears to be rather isolated,� Marianne commented dryly as she ducked a
rather low-hanging branch that then ran over the top of the carriage.
�His
grace has always,� Nicholas seemed to hesitate for a moment as though to find
the right words, �held himself slightly apart from the
normal court pettiness.�
�That�s
a relief!� Marianne sighed to herself mainly. However, Nicholas looked at her
questioningly. When she noticed, she smiled slightly. �I�ve never liked court
politics� Mainly for the role I had to look forward to playing. I would�ve been
nothing but a pawn, a handy bargain-clincher,� she explained as best she could.
�Really, aside from keeping himself unknown to me, I have no complaint against
him. His request for an alliance with my family was well timed since it was
either the Count D�Anjou or the convent if I didn�t marry soon.�
�And
why did your family choose you? I know his Grace didn�t ask for anyone
specifically,� Nicholas asked, a strange guarded look on his face that Marianne
paid fleeting attention to.
�It
wasn�t at random. I�m the eldest that was still unwed. Marriage alliances are
given by seniority. I never said I liked it but at least my family is fair in
that respect,� Marianne answered in a cut-and-dry fashion. �Supposedly, the
older woman represents the family better. I think it�s just their last effort
to marry them off before sending them to a convent,� she added darkly with a
sour expression.
�I
take it then that you weren�t very agreeable to this arrangement?� Nicholas
asked neutrally, keeping his eyes on the horses and the trail they were
following.
�Not
entirely, no,� Marianne responds, looking up at the trees. Nicholas had no
response to that.

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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