A/N: Just a quick tad bit I wrote up. This is Chaucer/Wat

Pulling Hair

Chaucer may be good with the words and how to string them together to create a hypnotizing speech but when it came to adding melody and tone it was surprisingly not Chaucer who left the crowd stunned. They had discovered it during Jocelyn and Wills wedding. There was a small band but they were playing common songs that crowd knew of, letting them sing along in their merry ways. But as they drank their wine and belted along, one man, on the dance floor, letting him be swallowed in the atmosphere of party and good joy, caught an ear of a friend.

Kate, who had been letting her friends twirl her to and fro in the good fun of dancing stopped and almost tripped over herself as a voice caught her attention. She expected it to be someone she didn't know, a fellow guest she had almost bumped into. Instead the rosy cheeks and flaming hair of the ill tempered Wat let the sweetest sound from his parted lips as he danced, trading partners from one to the other, each stepping over themselves once they were close enough to hear his voice separated from the rest.

Laughing to herself she noticed the hall slowly getting quiet until only a few drunks and the band were left belting along with the random voice of a fiery angel. But as they all listened, she watched him dance. Not once did he notice what effect on the crowd he had. He was busy locking eyes with a man before him who he now traded dancing partners with for the third time in a row. Chaucer looked as if he had left feet as he tumbled over himself, trying to dance while not paying attention to anything but his muse.

She would have thought it more than silly and a bit awkward if not for the look on Wats face when he realized everyone was quiet and Chaucer was grasping his wrist in a way to pull him off the floor. She realized that the extraordinary amount of fonging and snarky remarks that she was witness to lately had been plenty more than they seemed, leading up to the final realization. A tap on her shoulder had her turn to see Roland. His hand held out asking for a dance. Nodding her head she took the friendly offer. "Did a boy ever pull your hair when you were young?"

She smiled and followed in step with a quick spin before replying. "Of course, my husband did once, but then after the bruises on his face went away enough that he could talk, he realized it was easier just to propose to me." Giving a hearty laugh, Roland dipped her, nodding his head in a nonverbal way of signifying that he didn't doubt she was telling the truth.

"I suppose Chaucer has realized something of the same." Nodding simply she glanced at the doorway the two had just escaped through.

"Of course a man of words would love a man of voice, no matter how clueless he is. Though I wonder of Wats side." Roland just gave another chuckle as the dance came to an end. "He's a man of passion, what better for him than someone who can fuel his fire with an equal amount. Besides, he's been pulling the hair longer."