The stories so far, Edited and ready to roll. Options

[Troika]

OK, this thread will contain any and all stories that are posted on the geocities site and labelled as edited. These babies we don't have to worry about until it actually comes time to stick em in the game.

I will sort out this thread... in other words, please do NOT post up stories yourself... it could lead to multiple copies which could prove problematic later.

Also, please keep posts in this thread to a minimum. This is mainly just a place where people have quick and easy (although not necessarily organised) access to the stories already finished with.

[Troika]

Section: Stories

Written by Xerxys (Troika)

The Nobleman's Daughter

Written by Xerxys

Some years ago, there lived the daughter of a wealthy nobleman, the only child the nobleman had fathered before his wife had died. She was a pretty girl, but found the would-be suitors of her town rough and boorish, and not at all what she, or her proud father, was looking for in a husband.

Time drew steadily on, and, upon the daughter's 21st birthday, her father consulted the local alchemist, to see if there was any way to help along the process of finding his daughter a good husband.

"Take these seeds," said the wise old woman, who was really much more of a witch than an alchemist, "And when the man who is truly right for your young one first enters her life, only then will the seeds grow." The nobleman looked at the handful of small, dried brown seeds doubtfully, but was reminded of how his daughter's youth was quickly fading, and how he still had no heir to his title.

The daughter, most excited at the witch's plan, planted the seeds immediately in a small pot. She then proceeded to carry the pot with her wherever she went. Being the only daughter of a nobleman, she knew not what it was to work, and so her lazy days were spent simply spending time with her friends or looking through the various shops of the town.

One morning, whilst she was in the town's most upper market a clothier, a tall, blond-haired man, whom she'd never seen before, walked in, carrying three large bolts of cloth. The nobleman's daughter thought that he must have been very strong to be able to carry such a large amount of bolts upon his broad shoulders, and once he had left, the nobleman's daughter immediately ran to the young shopkeeper, asking about the blonde-haired man.

"He is the deliverer of much of my stock. Upon the first morning of every month, he delivers whatever stock I need from the city to the North."

The nobleman's daughter continued to press the shopkeeper for information, who could sadly not provide much more than his name - Jargo. But it did not mater, for as soon as she had left the shop, the nobleman's daughter looked down and found that the first green shoot from her magical seeds had begun to poke through the earth.

Jargo was the man who would be her husband.

For the next month, she prepared and waited for the day when Jargo would once again return to the town. When the first day of the new month arrived, he seeds had all sprouted now, and were growing healthily. She made her way hastily to the clothier's shop, and after an hour of waiting and chatting with the shopkeeper, the door opened and in walked Jargo, with two bolts of cloth slung over his shoulder. Immediately, the nobleman's daughter tried her best to charm Jargo, saying good morning and fluttering her eyelashes until she thought she must have been looking as if something was very wrong with her.

Jargo simply returned the good morning, and went about his business, taking the gold from the shopkeeper and hastily leaving. The nobleman's daughter felt a little distraught; she had waited an entire month to once again meet with the man who would make a perfect husband, and he says little more than two words to her.

Needing some time to think about her predicament, she offers to help the shopkeeper put away the bolts of cloth. They were extremely heavy, much heavier than anything she'd had to lift before, but as she spoke with the shopkeeper, she decided to press on resolutely with her pursuit.

"I shall be here on the first day of every month until I have Jargo's heart," she proclaimed to the shopkeeper as she left to go home, her arms aching from all the lifting.

And so she did. Every month she would wait in the shop talking to Armund the clothier as she waited for Jargo to arrive. Every month they would get a little better acquainted, with the nobleman's daughter being as pretty and as charming as she could possibly be. Then each month, after Jargo had once again left, leaving the nobleman's daughter's heart behind with her, she would help in the shop a little, talking to Armund about her predicament.

The young shopkeeper would always agree with her suggestions of what she should do and say next month, nodding his head politely. Each month, the nobleman's daughter would help a little more in the shop, sorting out the spools of thread or organizing the half-completed items of clothing. The time allowed her to think about Jargo, her extremely vexing quarry.

After Jargo had walked out of the shop, without the nobleman's daughter, for the seventh time, she was feeling particularly upset. After helping put away the bolts of cloth (which she was now really quite good at doing), she asked Armund if she could go and lay on his bed upstairs for a while, feeling very sad that Jargo was still not responding to her advances.

Armund showed the nobleman's daughter upstairs, as she'd never been up here before, and offered her his small bed. It was very simple, with just a small table with a pot of red flowers beside it.

"How curious," mused the nobleman's daughter as she sat upon the bed. "I have a pot of the exact same flowers at home, yet they are not ordinary flowers."

"I know," replied Armund, his shyness becoming suddenly stronger. "And I know why you have these flowers. I too bought the enchanted seeds from the old alchemist. And mine sprouted the day you entered my shop." The nobleman's daughter was flustered. She suddenly laid down onto the bed, feeling very giddy.

"But... But, Jargo. My seeds grew for Jargo," she protested, remembering the strong, blonde-haired man whom she's spent no more than twenty minutes with in total over the last seven months.

"Was I too not in the shop that day?" It was of course true. The nobleman's daughter looked over the flowers, growing as strong and as healthily as hers grew at home. She then looked at Armund. He wasn't as handsome or as strapping as Jargo, but he has a kind face, and she enjoyed his company. She then began to laugh to herself.

"What is it?" asked Armund.

"I have waited seven months for my perfect man, and yet he has been here all the time. I really am very foolish."

The End