The Trees They Do Grow High (part 1/4)
Posted: Thu Mar 11, 2004 4:50 pm
4xD, AU
I am normally not a Dorothy/Quatre shipper, seeing as how I hate Dorothy, but they fit the song so well that I gave in and wrote this story. It is based on the traditional song ?The Trees They Do Grow High,? which is I think either Scottish or Irish. I am basing off the version performed by Bernie and Barbara McDonald, which omits several verses from the original.
Disclaimer: I do not own Gundam Wing. The song, however, is traditional, so I can pretend I own it all I want. Ha! It?s my song! Mine! My own! What are you going to do about it?
Rating: very decent
Enjoy.
---
The Trees They Do Grow High
The trees they grow high and the leaves they grow green
Many is the time that my own true love I?ve seen
Many is an hour that I?ve watched him all alone
For he?s young, but he?s daily growin?
The great wooden doors creaked open, and after one last adjustment of her coifed hair, Dorothy swept into the room with all the grace and majesty she?d been raised to display. As she passed by, the manservant at the door called out, ?M?lord, the Lady Dorothy de Catalonia.?
At the sound, the imposing figure on the other side of the room rose and beckoned for her to come in. Dorothy walked to where he stood and gave a sweeping bow befitting a man of his rank. The man, Falkirk, duke of Dermail, nodded slightly to her and sat back down in his chair. She stood next to his chair, her hands clasped formally, and waited to hear what her grandfather had to say.
As Dorothy waited for the duke to collect his thoughts, she glanced discreetly around the room, reveling in the chance to be in his presence again. She?d been delighted to get his summons, as she hadn?t seen her grandfather in several months. He?d just returned from a long trip, and she?d been waiting since then for him to ask for her.
She adored her grandfather. He?d taken her in when her parents died in her youth, and he let her stay at his castle, Dermail Hall, for several months out of every year, giving her a welcome respite from the isolation she felt at her own home. As the duke of all of Dermail, he governed all of the land, but divided parts of it between each of his sons. Catalonia, the region that had been her father?s, was far away in the south and very isolated from real civilization. Now that her father was dead, her grandfather had taken over the ruling of that land again, but Dorothy was still forced to live there part of the year.
Her grandfather had always been good to her. He?d let her learn to use a sword and a bow, which was unheard of for a woman, and had even let her learn to read and write. Beyond this kindness, though, what she admired most about him was that he had been a great war hero in his day, and now ruled Dermail with such strength that few people dared oppose him in anything. She hoped to one day be as strong as he was.
The duke finally seemed ready to speak. ?My granddaughter,? he began, and then spoke the last words she expected to hear. ?You are near grown, now, and I have decided that you shall marry.? Only years of training and her good breeding kept Dorothy?s jaw from dropping. His words bounced around in her head as she tried to process them. Marry? Though she tried to keep her face icy, her grandfather saw her discomposure and laughed.
?You are surprised?? he asked, and she nodded. ?I- I did not think to marry, my lord,? she said, and he raised an eyebrow. ?Start thinking about it,? he said dispassionately, and nodded to the manservant to show her out. ?Come to the banquet tonight. You shall meet him there.?
?Father, dear father, you?ve done me a great wrong
For you have married me to a lad who is too young
I am twice twelve and he is but fourteen
He?s young but he?s daily growin?.?
That night, Dorothy arrived at the great hall some time before the meal began and sat in her usual seat, to her grandfather?s left. There were many more tables set out than normal, as the duke had many guests for the evening, who had not yet arrived. The meal wouldn?t begin for some time yet, but she?d been on edge all afternoon and had nothing else to do. She sat up straight, fiddling with the edge of her long sleeve under the table, and thought.
She was shocked, to say the least, at her grandfather?s announcement. She had always thought to be man?s equal, not his servant. She wanted to rule Catalonia, to lead armies, to fight and win glory for her name. On the other hand, she had never disobeyed her grandfather before. She felt sure that he, being so wise, wouldn?t do anything needlessly. She was just waiting to find out the reason for this command.
She didn?t have to wait long. A few minutes before the guests came in to eat, the duke entered the room and took his usual chair. He sat in silence for a few moments, while Dorothy felt her confusion and curiosity welling up in her. Just when she thought she would burst, he spoke up. ?Child, you know we have many rivals,? he said in his usual way of starting into conversations without introduction. Dorothy nodded.
?We have recently invested in gold mines in the southern islands, and it may become very lucrative. Our claim, however, is next to that of a powerful family, and we must keep the peace with them to keep our claim. I have spent some time visiting them, and it has been decided that we must form a bond between our families. You, as the only single female of age in the family, must marry the lord?s nephew.?
And that was that. The Duke said no more on the subject. Dorothy knew he never went back on his word, so she knew that with those simple words, he had uttered a curse on her of unhappiness for all of her life. Had anyone else ordered her to marry, she would have argued back, or run away, or possibly just run the offender through with her broadsword. But she couldn?t go against the will of her revered grandfather. Swallowing her objections and her pride, she nodded meekly and waited to meet her ball-and-chains to be.
A few minutes later, the door creaked open and the duke?s guests walked in. Dorothy?s eyes were glued to the figures who came in, wondering which would be her husband. The manservant at the door announced each guest. ?Baron Richard of the noble house of Raberba.? Too old to be the nephew. ?Lord Aschil and Lady Ragenildac de Raberba.? Already married.
?Sir Colegrim de Raberba.? At this, a tall man walked in, dark-haired and strong, a battle scar on his jaw. Surely, Dorothy thought, this must be him. She found herself actually excited by the prospect. The man was interesting, handsome, and obviously a fighter. Their marriage might actually turn out well.
Behind Colegrim came a much younger man, scarcely more than a boy, who the manservant announced as ?Sir Quatre Winner de Raberba.? The duke nudged Dorothy. ?That?s him,? he murmured, and Dorothy turned to stare at the young man, her daydream shattering. ?That?s him?? she whispered, forgetting how rude it was to address the duke so. ?He?s but a lad!?
?Hold your tongue,? he retorted sharply. ?He?s barely younger than you.? Dorothy nodded meekly, then turned to stare at her future husband. He was barely taller than she was, slight, with fair hair and large blue eyes. He looked so . . . naive. She couldn?t believe that she would be married to a such a person. At that moment, her intended glanced over at her. Seeing her staring at him, he gave her a small smile that only made him look younger. Dorothy looked away and stared at the table. She was being married off to a child.
?Daughter, dear daughter, I?ve done you no wrong
For I have a married you to a brave lord?s son
And he will be a man to you when I?m dead and gone
For he?s young but he?s daily growin?.?
They married one month later. The duke would have had it sooner, but Quatre?s aunt Ragenildac insisted that Dorothy must be given a month to prepare her dress and trousseau. She didn?t realize that Dorothy didn?t care at all about the fashion of her dress or whether her home was stocked with sufficient linens. She probably would have married in one of the same dresses she wore everyday had one of her aunts not intervened. The woman had no daughters of her own and had never gotten to help a young bride, and so subjected Dorothy to her fussing. Dorothy was forced to endure numerous fittings and meetings with the dressmaker for the whole month.
The Raberbas left the morning after the banquet to return home. Dorothy was glad of it; she was afraid that if she spent any more time around Quatre, she?d get to like him even less then she did now, and then she?d never be able to go through with the wedding. They?d had a rather stilted, awkward conversation over their meal that night she?d seen him. The awkwardness was her fault. He was actually a good conversationalist, but she hadn?t been helping him out much.
The one time she initiated a conversation with him was to ask him about his surname, Winner, which she?d hoped would turn out to be a war story and that she?d find something she liked about him. The answer, however, only solidified her dislike of him. ?My uncle?s men were about to enter a war with a neighboring land,? he?d said earnestly, his big blue eyes on hers. ?I was at a meeting between my uncle and the opposing leader, and I succeeding in persuading them to stop. My uncle declared that I was the true winner of the conflict, and the name caught on.? It was all she could do to keep from snorting. To be married to such a pacifist! She didn?t manage to hide her disgust well, and his face fell and he started concentrating very hard on his food.
Still, pacifist or no, she was married to him on the feast day of John the Baptist, late at the end of August. The marriage was performed at the kirk of Dermail Hall by the new stern-faced, haughty priest. Quatre?s family had arrived late the night before, and Dorothy hadn?t even seen him yet?not that she cared, but she would have thought that would be considered impolite.
When he did arrive, he was clad in a richly embroidered blue tunic that brought out the color of his eyes, as she would have seen if she?d been looking. She herself was in a new dress of light blue with long trailing sleeves that she had to tie in knots to keep from dragging on the ground. Her long blonde hair was braided down her back and crowned with a richly jeweled chaplet. She looked beautiful, even more so than she herself realized, but it seemed a waste of money to her. After all, this wasn?t really a wedding. This was passing sentence on two people who didn?t know each other and hadn?t seen each other in a month.
When the ceremony was over, Dorothy wordlessly let herself be led out of the church and into the carriage that was taking the newlyweds to her homeland of Catalonia, where they were to live. Quatre helped her in to the carriage, then climbed in himself. The wedding party waved enthusiastically at them, and Quatre waved back, but Dorothy didn?t even bother to lean out the window. Her husband settled himself on the bench next to her, and she immediately moved to the other side of the carriage. He didn?t respond, turning instead to look out the window as the carriage rumbled into motion.
Dorothy was perfectly content to ride in silence, but apparently Quatre wasn?t. A few minutes after leaving Dermail Hall, he turned to look at her earnestly. ?M?lady, allow me to-? ?Do not address me so intimately,? she butted in. ?We may be married, but I am not yours.? After this outburst, she bit her lip and waited for him to react. If she had spoken so to the duke, he would have struck her for her impertinence. Quatre looked surprised, but then gave her a smile that looked only partly saddened by her rudeness and asked, ?What shall I call you then?? She raised her eyebrows at him. He wasn?t angry with her? She snorted to herself. Weakling. ?Address me as Dorothy. It is a common name any fool may use.?
Quatre looked at her with soulful blue eyes that, this time, did look hurt. When he spoke, though, his words were filled with concern for her. ?Lady Dorothy, I truly am sorry that you were forced into this marriage. If I could stop your pain, I would, truly.? ?How nice for you,? she said snidely. ?I?m retiring now. Do not disturb me.? Wrapping her traveling cloak around herself, she leaned against the side of the carriage and drifted off to sleep.
When she awoke, the carriage was at an inn and the sun was sinking in the sky. The driver was talking to Quatre, who immediately relayed the information to Dorothy when he saw she was awake. ?Change the horses and drive on,? she declared immediately in response to his question. ?I do not wish to remain on this journey any longer than I must.? The driver nodded and she immediately wrapped her cloak back around herself and went back to sleep.
When she awoke again, the sky was pitch black and the carriage was pulling in front of a stone hall that was quite small in comparison with Dermail Hall. Dorothy grinned in satisfaction and let herself out of the carriage, eager to fall into her old, comfortable bed- alone. She had already decided that she was not going to bed Quatre. Another man would probably force her to, but luckily Quatre was easily bent to the will of others. Behind her, Quatre was just waking from his own nap. She turned back to him. ?This is Catalonia House. You may sleep in my parents? room; the servants will show you the way. I will be in my own room.? Without waiting for a response, she spun on her heel and entered the house.
Catalonia House was quite small, requiring less than a dozen servants to run. For Dorothy, though, it held many happy memories of youth, and she was glad to be back. She would return to her own house, and spend her days doing all the things she did as a child. The only change would be her newly-wedded lord, but she didn?t see that his presence would make any difference at all.
---
AN: Dorothy, you're so mean. Honestly. Oh, for those who are wondering, kirk is the old word for church. I thought it made the story sound . . . old. Which is the point. Because it's set in medieval times. Woo hoo! Please review! I would love it!
I am normally not a Dorothy/Quatre shipper, seeing as how I hate Dorothy, but they fit the song so well that I gave in and wrote this story. It is based on the traditional song ?The Trees They Do Grow High,? which is I think either Scottish or Irish. I am basing off the version performed by Bernie and Barbara McDonald, which omits several verses from the original.
Disclaimer: I do not own Gundam Wing. The song, however, is traditional, so I can pretend I own it all I want. Ha! It?s my song! Mine! My own! What are you going to do about it?
Rating: very decent
Enjoy.
---
The Trees They Do Grow High
The trees they grow high and the leaves they grow green
Many is the time that my own true love I?ve seen
Many is an hour that I?ve watched him all alone
For he?s young, but he?s daily growin?
The great wooden doors creaked open, and after one last adjustment of her coifed hair, Dorothy swept into the room with all the grace and majesty she?d been raised to display. As she passed by, the manservant at the door called out, ?M?lord, the Lady Dorothy de Catalonia.?
At the sound, the imposing figure on the other side of the room rose and beckoned for her to come in. Dorothy walked to where he stood and gave a sweeping bow befitting a man of his rank. The man, Falkirk, duke of Dermail, nodded slightly to her and sat back down in his chair. She stood next to his chair, her hands clasped formally, and waited to hear what her grandfather had to say.
As Dorothy waited for the duke to collect his thoughts, she glanced discreetly around the room, reveling in the chance to be in his presence again. She?d been delighted to get his summons, as she hadn?t seen her grandfather in several months. He?d just returned from a long trip, and she?d been waiting since then for him to ask for her.
She adored her grandfather. He?d taken her in when her parents died in her youth, and he let her stay at his castle, Dermail Hall, for several months out of every year, giving her a welcome respite from the isolation she felt at her own home. As the duke of all of Dermail, he governed all of the land, but divided parts of it between each of his sons. Catalonia, the region that had been her father?s, was far away in the south and very isolated from real civilization. Now that her father was dead, her grandfather had taken over the ruling of that land again, but Dorothy was still forced to live there part of the year.
Her grandfather had always been good to her. He?d let her learn to use a sword and a bow, which was unheard of for a woman, and had even let her learn to read and write. Beyond this kindness, though, what she admired most about him was that he had been a great war hero in his day, and now ruled Dermail with such strength that few people dared oppose him in anything. She hoped to one day be as strong as he was.
The duke finally seemed ready to speak. ?My granddaughter,? he began, and then spoke the last words she expected to hear. ?You are near grown, now, and I have decided that you shall marry.? Only years of training and her good breeding kept Dorothy?s jaw from dropping. His words bounced around in her head as she tried to process them. Marry? Though she tried to keep her face icy, her grandfather saw her discomposure and laughed.
?You are surprised?? he asked, and she nodded. ?I- I did not think to marry, my lord,? she said, and he raised an eyebrow. ?Start thinking about it,? he said dispassionately, and nodded to the manservant to show her out. ?Come to the banquet tonight. You shall meet him there.?
?Father, dear father, you?ve done me a great wrong
For you have married me to a lad who is too young
I am twice twelve and he is but fourteen
He?s young but he?s daily growin?.?
That night, Dorothy arrived at the great hall some time before the meal began and sat in her usual seat, to her grandfather?s left. There were many more tables set out than normal, as the duke had many guests for the evening, who had not yet arrived. The meal wouldn?t begin for some time yet, but she?d been on edge all afternoon and had nothing else to do. She sat up straight, fiddling with the edge of her long sleeve under the table, and thought.
She was shocked, to say the least, at her grandfather?s announcement. She had always thought to be man?s equal, not his servant. She wanted to rule Catalonia, to lead armies, to fight and win glory for her name. On the other hand, she had never disobeyed her grandfather before. She felt sure that he, being so wise, wouldn?t do anything needlessly. She was just waiting to find out the reason for this command.
She didn?t have to wait long. A few minutes before the guests came in to eat, the duke entered the room and took his usual chair. He sat in silence for a few moments, while Dorothy felt her confusion and curiosity welling up in her. Just when she thought she would burst, he spoke up. ?Child, you know we have many rivals,? he said in his usual way of starting into conversations without introduction. Dorothy nodded.
?We have recently invested in gold mines in the southern islands, and it may become very lucrative. Our claim, however, is next to that of a powerful family, and we must keep the peace with them to keep our claim. I have spent some time visiting them, and it has been decided that we must form a bond between our families. You, as the only single female of age in the family, must marry the lord?s nephew.?
And that was that. The Duke said no more on the subject. Dorothy knew he never went back on his word, so she knew that with those simple words, he had uttered a curse on her of unhappiness for all of her life. Had anyone else ordered her to marry, she would have argued back, or run away, or possibly just run the offender through with her broadsword. But she couldn?t go against the will of her revered grandfather. Swallowing her objections and her pride, she nodded meekly and waited to meet her ball-and-chains to be.
A few minutes later, the door creaked open and the duke?s guests walked in. Dorothy?s eyes were glued to the figures who came in, wondering which would be her husband. The manservant at the door announced each guest. ?Baron Richard of the noble house of Raberba.? Too old to be the nephew. ?Lord Aschil and Lady Ragenildac de Raberba.? Already married.
?Sir Colegrim de Raberba.? At this, a tall man walked in, dark-haired and strong, a battle scar on his jaw. Surely, Dorothy thought, this must be him. She found herself actually excited by the prospect. The man was interesting, handsome, and obviously a fighter. Their marriage might actually turn out well.
Behind Colegrim came a much younger man, scarcely more than a boy, who the manservant announced as ?Sir Quatre Winner de Raberba.? The duke nudged Dorothy. ?That?s him,? he murmured, and Dorothy turned to stare at the young man, her daydream shattering. ?That?s him?? she whispered, forgetting how rude it was to address the duke so. ?He?s but a lad!?
?Hold your tongue,? he retorted sharply. ?He?s barely younger than you.? Dorothy nodded meekly, then turned to stare at her future husband. He was barely taller than she was, slight, with fair hair and large blue eyes. He looked so . . . naive. She couldn?t believe that she would be married to a such a person. At that moment, her intended glanced over at her. Seeing her staring at him, he gave her a small smile that only made him look younger. Dorothy looked away and stared at the table. She was being married off to a child.
?Daughter, dear daughter, I?ve done you no wrong
For I have a married you to a brave lord?s son
And he will be a man to you when I?m dead and gone
For he?s young but he?s daily growin?.?
They married one month later. The duke would have had it sooner, but Quatre?s aunt Ragenildac insisted that Dorothy must be given a month to prepare her dress and trousseau. She didn?t realize that Dorothy didn?t care at all about the fashion of her dress or whether her home was stocked with sufficient linens. She probably would have married in one of the same dresses she wore everyday had one of her aunts not intervened. The woman had no daughters of her own and had never gotten to help a young bride, and so subjected Dorothy to her fussing. Dorothy was forced to endure numerous fittings and meetings with the dressmaker for the whole month.
The Raberbas left the morning after the banquet to return home. Dorothy was glad of it; she was afraid that if she spent any more time around Quatre, she?d get to like him even less then she did now, and then she?d never be able to go through with the wedding. They?d had a rather stilted, awkward conversation over their meal that night she?d seen him. The awkwardness was her fault. He was actually a good conversationalist, but she hadn?t been helping him out much.
The one time she initiated a conversation with him was to ask him about his surname, Winner, which she?d hoped would turn out to be a war story and that she?d find something she liked about him. The answer, however, only solidified her dislike of him. ?My uncle?s men were about to enter a war with a neighboring land,? he?d said earnestly, his big blue eyes on hers. ?I was at a meeting between my uncle and the opposing leader, and I succeeding in persuading them to stop. My uncle declared that I was the true winner of the conflict, and the name caught on.? It was all she could do to keep from snorting. To be married to such a pacifist! She didn?t manage to hide her disgust well, and his face fell and he started concentrating very hard on his food.
Still, pacifist or no, she was married to him on the feast day of John the Baptist, late at the end of August. The marriage was performed at the kirk of Dermail Hall by the new stern-faced, haughty priest. Quatre?s family had arrived late the night before, and Dorothy hadn?t even seen him yet?not that she cared, but she would have thought that would be considered impolite.
When he did arrive, he was clad in a richly embroidered blue tunic that brought out the color of his eyes, as she would have seen if she?d been looking. She herself was in a new dress of light blue with long trailing sleeves that she had to tie in knots to keep from dragging on the ground. Her long blonde hair was braided down her back and crowned with a richly jeweled chaplet. She looked beautiful, even more so than she herself realized, but it seemed a waste of money to her. After all, this wasn?t really a wedding. This was passing sentence on two people who didn?t know each other and hadn?t seen each other in a month.
When the ceremony was over, Dorothy wordlessly let herself be led out of the church and into the carriage that was taking the newlyweds to her homeland of Catalonia, where they were to live. Quatre helped her in to the carriage, then climbed in himself. The wedding party waved enthusiastically at them, and Quatre waved back, but Dorothy didn?t even bother to lean out the window. Her husband settled himself on the bench next to her, and she immediately moved to the other side of the carriage. He didn?t respond, turning instead to look out the window as the carriage rumbled into motion.
Dorothy was perfectly content to ride in silence, but apparently Quatre wasn?t. A few minutes after leaving Dermail Hall, he turned to look at her earnestly. ?M?lady, allow me to-? ?Do not address me so intimately,? she butted in. ?We may be married, but I am not yours.? After this outburst, she bit her lip and waited for him to react. If she had spoken so to the duke, he would have struck her for her impertinence. Quatre looked surprised, but then gave her a smile that looked only partly saddened by her rudeness and asked, ?What shall I call you then?? She raised her eyebrows at him. He wasn?t angry with her? She snorted to herself. Weakling. ?Address me as Dorothy. It is a common name any fool may use.?
Quatre looked at her with soulful blue eyes that, this time, did look hurt. When he spoke, though, his words were filled with concern for her. ?Lady Dorothy, I truly am sorry that you were forced into this marriage. If I could stop your pain, I would, truly.? ?How nice for you,? she said snidely. ?I?m retiring now. Do not disturb me.? Wrapping her traveling cloak around herself, she leaned against the side of the carriage and drifted off to sleep.
When she awoke, the carriage was at an inn and the sun was sinking in the sky. The driver was talking to Quatre, who immediately relayed the information to Dorothy when he saw she was awake. ?Change the horses and drive on,? she declared immediately in response to his question. ?I do not wish to remain on this journey any longer than I must.? The driver nodded and she immediately wrapped her cloak back around herself and went back to sleep.
When she awoke again, the sky was pitch black and the carriage was pulling in front of a stone hall that was quite small in comparison with Dermail Hall. Dorothy grinned in satisfaction and let herself out of the carriage, eager to fall into her old, comfortable bed- alone. She had already decided that she was not going to bed Quatre. Another man would probably force her to, but luckily Quatre was easily bent to the will of others. Behind her, Quatre was just waking from his own nap. She turned back to him. ?This is Catalonia House. You may sleep in my parents? room; the servants will show you the way. I will be in my own room.? Without waiting for a response, she spun on her heel and entered the house.
Catalonia House was quite small, requiring less than a dozen servants to run. For Dorothy, though, it held many happy memories of youth, and she was glad to be back. She would return to her own house, and spend her days doing all the things she did as a child. The only change would be her newly-wedded lord, but she didn?t see that his presence would make any difference at all.
---
AN: Dorothy, you're so mean. Honestly. Oh, for those who are wondering, kirk is the old word for church. I thought it made the story sound . . . old. Which is the point. Because it's set in medieval times. Woo hoo! Please review! I would love it!
