Equinox The High Palace
- Thread starter Knosis
- Start date
As written by Krysis and Knosis
Esther had always been the quiet type, never one to make a fuss about anything, even as a baby. She tended to find quiet nooks in the castle and read until someone went hunting for her, or hunger at last beckoned her down from her imaginary lands of adventure. In reality, she knew that adventures were never as exciting living them as they were in the stories, which was why she was shy about approaching Ruairi with her request a few days ago.
The sweet girl had finally worked up the courage though, hunting out the much older male with a worried flinching about her shoulders. It was like she expected someone to sneak up on her and put her to doing something disagreeable as she asked, very respectfully, "Brother? Would it be possible to go away for a few days? I'd like to see where Father was born."
The older male had been out in the sword yard, practicing with one of the younger soldiers of the king's guard when the young girl approached him. Having excused himself from the practice session, he listened to the girl's request.
With a raised brow and a slight smile hinting playfully at the corner of his bearded face. "And why would one such as you like to visit such a dull place like that, hm?" He asked, leaning on the pole he had been practing with.
Esther shifted her weight to glance over her shoulder, trying to be casual about it, before she looked up at Rauiri again. Her soft hands fidgeted on the book she was carrying as if she had forgotten about it. She swallowed hard and put on a smile as she answered him cheerfully, "No reason. I just want to get out of Solstice for a while. Just a week or two."
He stood silently, staring at the girl for a short while as if he were waiting for more of an answer. Despite how he had felt about his father, the children, particurally Esther and the younger two, had no reason to bare his ill will. He had help reared them since babes, the three youngest felt partly his own children.
He sighed and smirked, folding his strong arms over top his pole and partly hiding his face from the girl.
"How can I refuse the request of a beautiful young lady, and that of my sister, hm?" He threw the pole over his shoulders and relaxed both arms over either side so that it balanced well. "But, I suppose we should leave sooner rather than later. Should I receive orders to ensure you aren't to leave the castle due to some royal obligations or marriage proposals, then I'm afraid the orders of your parents would come before your request." He hummed softly.
Esther gave a rueful laugh and smiled up at her half-brother. "I'm as obvious as ever? I suppose so, since you guessed my reasons without half trying. It's horrible. That man is only interested in me because of the crown. Any way it goes, I will be sister to a king, and that is all they want. To claim a plum and squeeze."
She shifted her weight again and added, "My maids are already packing my trunk. I thought you might be willing, or at least direct me to someone that would be. A vacation from the castle sounds like a desirable thing to many people these days."
The bookish girl didn't add that others wanted to be close by, circling like vultures around the royal carcass.
"Obvious only because I knew you since you were a babe." He chuckled slightly. The man's steely eyes grew cold at the mention of being a sister to a king. He wanted to add that he was only the loyal dog, but decided better of it.
"Well, we best be off, before the order changes hands." He said, although his playful tone had become less so, and more serious. "I'll be ready in half an hour or so with my horse, by the west gate."
"I count you in that, Rauiri. You'd make a fine king." Esther answered seriously. She had known him just as long, though in her case, maybe the reading helped her understand another person's point of view more easily. She smiled and nodded at the instructions, turning to hurry off to see to the last of her packing herself.
This time, they didn't need to be slowed by any of ther other siblings. This time, she just wanted to get away before being cornered by the man that could not even remember her name, so he called her merely 'Princess'. "Like he's calling a dog." Esther muttered as she dashed up the servant's steps and looked both ways before darting into her room.
About an hour later, the young woman was hurrying back down to the west gate, only a small bag slung over her shoulder, and no jewelry to mark her out as anything special. The trunk got left in the middle of her bedroom as a red herring for anyone that might think she was still in residence since her things were still there.
True to his word, the elder man was there with his war horse saddled and some bags of supplies and his blade sheathed at its side. The grey mare wouldn't get them anywhere fast, but she would get them somewhere.
Without a word, he took her bag and added it to the saddle bags. "A week." He grunted as he pulled the strings. "Is all I can buy you, Esther." He added as he turned towards her. "I can save you from any harm, I would give my life to ensure your safety and your life.. But I can't save you from your fate." He tucked his finger under her chin and pulled it up to look at him directly in the eyes.
"Only you can change your own fate. Your father did so. Any man, or woman, should be able to do the same." He then bent down to help her mount the war horse.
"Father changed all our fates, but I think he partly did it to better our lands." Esther pointed out quietly as she got settled in her perch. It wasn't hard to meet Rauiri's gaze, though her own eyes were sad as she comptemplated the future.
"If I were to go out and-- Well, I could fall in love and marry a man that really sees me. A man that doesn't know what I am, just who I am. It would be a disaster. Can you imagine what it would do to our parents?" She spoke without thinking about it, though the moment the word 'parents' left her lips, color climbed in her cheeks and her posture got stiffer with embarrassment about how she might have inadvertently insulted her half-brother.
Ruairi stiffened physically, but it only caused a momentary lapse in his movement as he swung himself up behind his half sister in the saddle.
"Our father would be hypocritical if he stopped you. Your mother," He specified purposely before clicking his tongue to motion the warpony forward, "Has known no other way. She grew up in the life of a noble, of a royal. Just as you have. You have a duty to your kingdom. But you have a duty to yourself, first. You do not want a husband that will use you for your rank, as he will most likely be the first to betray you should trouble arise to the throne.." He said quietly.
"Do you hate her for that?" Esther asked softly, moving a little to make sure that Rauiri had as comfortable a seat as could be managed, riding double like that. She had never asked before, willing to let her half-brother have his own way in almost everything. He had been a hero before he was her age, after all. That meant he deserved at least a little consideration.
"I've always wondered. I mean, I love my mother dearly, so it is hard for me to understand the tension between you." the teenager clarified uncomfortablly, suddenly wishing she hadn't brought the subject up.
The elder man was silent as he concidered her question. "I do not hate the Queen." He stated truthfully. "She is my father's betrothed through a arranged marriage to end a war that could have destroyed our kingdom. She had no choice, without risking the war never ending and bringing more death. She is a selflessly kind woman, and she has my respect to her position."
He paused and took a deep breath. "The tension between your mother and I.." He shook his head. "Well.. I am a selfish man."
Esther nodded slowly, then hunched her shoulders as she huddled in on herself, "I imagine she will have to marry again. I don't want to think about Father going away, but it is going to happen. Even if it doesn't happen for years and years, Oriana will likely outlive him." She stumbled over her mother's name, finding it awkward to call her so.
"I imagine I will feel the same about my future stepfather as you do about my mother." Unspoken was the knowledge that Oriana would be just a chip in the game at this point, since there might be no more heirs from a woman nearing her fourth decade.
Ruairi clicked his tongue again and the mare picked up her speed to a soft trot. She could carry this pace near indefinately. "Aye, most likely. Unless some ill will or sickness takes the queen, gods pray it won't, she will out live our father. The queen will most likely remarry, but it will be less politically involved as your brother will take the throne and will need to take a wife." Despite his best effort, his tone sharpened at the mentioned of the Queen's oldest child.
"She will be free to make her own decisions then, and I hope she finds what makes her happy for the rest of her days. Isn't that what you would wish for your mother?"
"It is. I'd like that for everyone. Happiness. Somehow, it seems difficult to manage. So many people with conflicting goals." Esther admitted, relaxing a bit and closing her eyes as she trusted Rauiri with everything.
"Elan would be a disaster. He is surrounded by people that tell him how wonderful he is, and I don't think he has any concept of what it would really take to do the job. So he might be happy, but no one else would be." The teenage girl fretted gently at the thoughts of the future. Her hands again made those small, thoughtful twitches that they had earlier, though this time on the pommel of the saddle instead of on a book.
'And all my work will be undone...' The elder man thought to himself, but he kept quiet for the while the girl was explaining and for a while afterward. The girl may not have realized, but she was hitting the tender parts of his thoughts as of late.
With his father showing signs of his age, he had come around again to think of what position he was in and realized that he had no more right to live at the castle or anywhere than he had when he had joined the war with his father decades ago.
He swallowed hard before finally responding to the girl's outspoken thoughts. "People can change, once a responsibility is thrusted upon them." He said, trying to sound hopeful, although he failed miserably.
Esther smiled to herself, actually glad that Rauiri seemed so uncomfortable with the conversation. She had the feeling that, if she didn't push and move fast, things would take a terrible turn for herself and her siblings if Elan took the crown. That was something she actually wanted to be in contention as long as possible, so she could find her escape.
Maybe an escape for the younger two as well, if she could manage it, though it seemed like things were going to be difficult no matter which way things turned out. She gave Rauiri's arm an affectionate squeeze as he tried to be hopeful, apparently for her sake, but it seemed to be a good place to let the conversation fester a bit.
Esther had always been the quiet type, never one to make a fuss about anything, even as a baby. She tended to find quiet nooks in the castle and read until someone went hunting for her, or hunger at last beckoned her down from her imaginary lands of adventure. In reality, she knew that adventures were never as exciting living them as they were in the stories, which was why she was shy about approaching Ruairi with her request a few days ago.
The sweet girl had finally worked up the courage though, hunting out the much older male with a worried flinching about her shoulders. It was like she expected someone to sneak up on her and put her to doing something disagreeable as she asked, very respectfully, "Brother? Would it be possible to go away for a few days? I'd like to see where Father was born."
The older male had been out in the sword yard, practicing with one of the younger soldiers of the king's guard when the young girl approached him. Having excused himself from the practice session, he listened to the girl's request.
With a raised brow and a slight smile hinting playfully at the corner of his bearded face. "And why would one such as you like to visit such a dull place like that, hm?" He asked, leaning on the pole he had been practing with.
Esther shifted her weight to glance over her shoulder, trying to be casual about it, before she looked up at Rauiri again. Her soft hands fidgeted on the book she was carrying as if she had forgotten about it. She swallowed hard and put on a smile as she answered him cheerfully, "No reason. I just want to get out of Solstice for a while. Just a week or two."
He stood silently, staring at the girl for a short while as if he were waiting for more of an answer. Despite how he had felt about his father, the children, particurally Esther and the younger two, had no reason to bare his ill will. He had help reared them since babes, the three youngest felt partly his own children.
He sighed and smirked, folding his strong arms over top his pole and partly hiding his face from the girl.
"How can I refuse the request of a beautiful young lady, and that of my sister, hm?" He threw the pole over his shoulders and relaxed both arms over either side so that it balanced well. "But, I suppose we should leave sooner rather than later. Should I receive orders to ensure you aren't to leave the castle due to some royal obligations or marriage proposals, then I'm afraid the orders of your parents would come before your request." He hummed softly.
Esther gave a rueful laugh and smiled up at her half-brother. "I'm as obvious as ever? I suppose so, since you guessed my reasons without half trying. It's horrible. That man is only interested in me because of the crown. Any way it goes, I will be sister to a king, and that is all they want. To claim a plum and squeeze."
She shifted her weight again and added, "My maids are already packing my trunk. I thought you might be willing, or at least direct me to someone that would be. A vacation from the castle sounds like a desirable thing to many people these days."
The bookish girl didn't add that others wanted to be close by, circling like vultures around the royal carcass.
"Obvious only because I knew you since you were a babe." He chuckled slightly. The man's steely eyes grew cold at the mention of being a sister to a king. He wanted to add that he was only the loyal dog, but decided better of it.
"Well, we best be off, before the order changes hands." He said, although his playful tone had become less so, and more serious. "I'll be ready in half an hour or so with my horse, by the west gate."
"I count you in that, Rauiri. You'd make a fine king." Esther answered seriously. She had known him just as long, though in her case, maybe the reading helped her understand another person's point of view more easily. She smiled and nodded at the instructions, turning to hurry off to see to the last of her packing herself.
This time, they didn't need to be slowed by any of ther other siblings. This time, she just wanted to get away before being cornered by the man that could not even remember her name, so he called her merely 'Princess'. "Like he's calling a dog." Esther muttered as she dashed up the servant's steps and looked both ways before darting into her room.
About an hour later, the young woman was hurrying back down to the west gate, only a small bag slung over her shoulder, and no jewelry to mark her out as anything special. The trunk got left in the middle of her bedroom as a red herring for anyone that might think she was still in residence since her things were still there.
True to his word, the elder man was there with his war horse saddled and some bags of supplies and his blade sheathed at its side. The grey mare wouldn't get them anywhere fast, but she would get them somewhere.
Without a word, he took her bag and added it to the saddle bags. "A week." He grunted as he pulled the strings. "Is all I can buy you, Esther." He added as he turned towards her. "I can save you from any harm, I would give my life to ensure your safety and your life.. But I can't save you from your fate." He tucked his finger under her chin and pulled it up to look at him directly in the eyes.
"Only you can change your own fate. Your father did so. Any man, or woman, should be able to do the same." He then bent down to help her mount the war horse.
"Father changed all our fates, but I think he partly did it to better our lands." Esther pointed out quietly as she got settled in her perch. It wasn't hard to meet Rauiri's gaze, though her own eyes were sad as she comptemplated the future.
"If I were to go out and-- Well, I could fall in love and marry a man that really sees me. A man that doesn't know what I am, just who I am. It would be a disaster. Can you imagine what it would do to our parents?" She spoke without thinking about it, though the moment the word 'parents' left her lips, color climbed in her cheeks and her posture got stiffer with embarrassment about how she might have inadvertently insulted her half-brother.
Ruairi stiffened physically, but it only caused a momentary lapse in his movement as he swung himself up behind his half sister in the saddle.
"Our father would be hypocritical if he stopped you. Your mother," He specified purposely before clicking his tongue to motion the warpony forward, "Has known no other way. She grew up in the life of a noble, of a royal. Just as you have. You have a duty to your kingdom. But you have a duty to yourself, first. You do not want a husband that will use you for your rank, as he will most likely be the first to betray you should trouble arise to the throne.." He said quietly.
"Do you hate her for that?" Esther asked softly, moving a little to make sure that Rauiri had as comfortable a seat as could be managed, riding double like that. She had never asked before, willing to let her half-brother have his own way in almost everything. He had been a hero before he was her age, after all. That meant he deserved at least a little consideration.
"I've always wondered. I mean, I love my mother dearly, so it is hard for me to understand the tension between you." the teenager clarified uncomfortablly, suddenly wishing she hadn't brought the subject up.
The elder man was silent as he concidered her question. "I do not hate the Queen." He stated truthfully. "She is my father's betrothed through a arranged marriage to end a war that could have destroyed our kingdom. She had no choice, without risking the war never ending and bringing more death. She is a selflessly kind woman, and she has my respect to her position."
He paused and took a deep breath. "The tension between your mother and I.." He shook his head. "Well.. I am a selfish man."
Esther nodded slowly, then hunched her shoulders as she huddled in on herself, "I imagine she will have to marry again. I don't want to think about Father going away, but it is going to happen. Even if it doesn't happen for years and years, Oriana will likely outlive him." She stumbled over her mother's name, finding it awkward to call her so.
"I imagine I will feel the same about my future stepfather as you do about my mother." Unspoken was the knowledge that Oriana would be just a chip in the game at this point, since there might be no more heirs from a woman nearing her fourth decade.
Ruairi clicked his tongue again and the mare picked up her speed to a soft trot. She could carry this pace near indefinately. "Aye, most likely. Unless some ill will or sickness takes the queen, gods pray it won't, she will out live our father. The queen will most likely remarry, but it will be less politically involved as your brother will take the throne and will need to take a wife." Despite his best effort, his tone sharpened at the mentioned of the Queen's oldest child.
"She will be free to make her own decisions then, and I hope she finds what makes her happy for the rest of her days. Isn't that what you would wish for your mother?"
"It is. I'd like that for everyone. Happiness. Somehow, it seems difficult to manage. So many people with conflicting goals." Esther admitted, relaxing a bit and closing her eyes as she trusted Rauiri with everything.
"Elan would be a disaster. He is surrounded by people that tell him how wonderful he is, and I don't think he has any concept of what it would really take to do the job. So he might be happy, but no one else would be." The teenage girl fretted gently at the thoughts of the future. Her hands again made those small, thoughtful twitches that they had earlier, though this time on the pommel of the saddle instead of on a book.
'And all my work will be undone...' The elder man thought to himself, but he kept quiet for the while the girl was explaining and for a while afterward. The girl may not have realized, but she was hitting the tender parts of his thoughts as of late.
With his father showing signs of his age, he had come around again to think of what position he was in and realized that he had no more right to live at the castle or anywhere than he had when he had joined the war with his father decades ago.
He swallowed hard before finally responding to the girl's outspoken thoughts. "People can change, once a responsibility is thrusted upon them." He said, trying to sound hopeful, although he failed miserably.
Esther smiled to herself, actually glad that Rauiri seemed so uncomfortable with the conversation. She had the feeling that, if she didn't push and move fast, things would take a terrible turn for herself and her siblings if Elan took the crown. That was something she actually wanted to be in contention as long as possible, so she could find her escape.
Maybe an escape for the younger two as well, if she could manage it, though it seemed like things were going to be difficult no matter which way things turned out. She gave Rauiri's arm an affectionate squeeze as he tried to be hopeful, apparently for her sake, but it seemed to be a good place to let the conversation fester a bit.
As Written by Script:
The clash of metal against metal rang in Elan's ears as his blade met with his opponent's, jarring his shoulder as he knocked the attempted thrust aside and moved to answer with a retaliatory strike. His hair was matted to his forehead, slick with sweat, and his body was already sore from a number of bruises despite the padded sparring gear he wore.
Across from him, Hildegarde barely seemed to have broken a sweat. Though he'd slipped past the woman's guard a few times to land glancing blows, the disparity in their skill was obvious. For every time he'd managed to strike her, he'd paid with several thorough trouncings. But it was good, he thought, as he gambled on a swift barrage of light strikes in an attempt to batter his way through her defences, and each was turned away in turn.
For all that he excelled in his scheduled sparring training with the other young men of the court, it was good to be reminded how utterly outclassed he still was by a veteran.
With a final arc of her sword, Hildegard sent him stumbling, and she brought the blade down firmly on his shoulder. He winced with pain. It was a strike that would have left him unable to fight on, were they wielding sharpened weapons. Another victory for her.
He let out a long and belaboured sigh, letting his stance drop and lowering his weapon.
"Not too shabby, my lord," Hildegard remarked, grinning. "But you committed too much to that flurry, without a recourse if you failed to break my guard. A manoeuvre like that is best saved for when you're confident you've worn your opponent down enough for it to overwhelm them."
Elan nodded his head breathlessly, stepping away and slumping down onto a bench. "Five minutes," he managed to breathe out. "Then again." As he set his weapon down, the sound of skittering claws announced Lothwyr joining him upon the bench. The pseudodrake prowled over to seat itself beside him, looking up as though pondering taking a perch upon his shoulder, but thinking better of it in his rather unkempt and sweaty state. Elan smiled, reaching across to scratch him on the head, eliciting a murr of contentment.
"My lord?" The voice of Aaron, his attendant, was soft but laced with disapproving concern. "Perhaps it would be best to take a more significant respite. You're expected to attend court in an hour, and you'll need time to bathe and change your attire..."
Sighing, Elan nodded by way of concession. Court. How had he forgotten? Wishful thinking, perhaps? "You're right, of course. I hadn't realised time had gotten so far away from me."
"One too many knocks to the head, perhaps..." The mousey-haired young man smirked as he stepped over, proffering a cool towel, that Elan took with a grateful smile. Some might have considered such a remark to be horrendously improper, coming from a servant, but Aaron had been with him for over a decade, now. He was the son of one of the women who had helped his parents care for him when he was growing, and they had been friends long before Aaron had taken on the role of his attendant.
"Perhaps," he replied, pressing the cool fabric to his head. It was blissful, and he almost forgot the second half of his sentence as he enjoyed the sensation. "... or perhaps I'm just complacent, what with having such a reliable timekeeper on hand."
"I'm not sure about on hand," Aaron murmured, "I think until you've bathed, I'd prefer to remain at arm's length."
Resisting the urge to flick the towel at him, Elan opted to ignore the jibe and returned his thoughts to the afternoon's session of court. "I suppose I'll be meeting that dreadful Westron who arrived earlier today, won't I? The one chasing after poor Esther. Viscount Falkenrath. Almost twice her age." He wrinkled his nose. "With any luck, she'll be miles from the castle already. She does seem to have a knack for escaping these men."
"And leaving you and the Queen to handle the political fallout," Aaron murmured, sounding less pleased.
Elan laughed. "I suppose there's that. We can only promise 'next time' for so long before it starts looking like we're mocking them..."
Aaron nodded. "I understand why she flees, truly. But you're going to suffer for it, if you find yourself without alliances by marriage when you take the throne."
"Well, we'll just have to find her a more palatable alternative," Elan mused for a few moments. "Leontinus, perhaps. He's close to her age, and stands to be the next head of House Arluanus. I think they would get along - Leo's the quiet type, which I think is more Esther's preference than the brash attitudes of most of the previous prospects. Though, I fear she will baulk at anything arranged for her, regardless of the suitor. Her head is too filled with those tales of true romance she reads."
"It may be worth exploring, my lord, nonetheless. Even if you have to play games, and arrange it so that it seems like it isn't arranged. But, if I may..." Aaron glanced up at the sun. "We're running short on time."
Elan sighed, nodding his head. "Then let's get moving." He turned to look across at Hildegard, who was in the process of removing her padded armour. "Thank you for your time again, Hilde."
"A pleasure as always, my lord," she replied with a grin.
The prince raised an eyebrow. "One might suspect you enjoy smacking me around more than is appropriate."
"Me, my lord? Never, my lord. Couldn't possibly, my lord." Hildegard made a terrible attempt at looking indignantly surprised at the accusation. Elan snorted with laughter.
"Of course. My mistake. Until later, Hilde." She bowed her head respectfully, and returned to attending to the sparring gear.
"I already took the liberty of getting some of the servants to ready a bath, while you were sparring," Aaron noted as Elan rose. Lothwyr hopped from the bench to follow alongside him as they walked. "It should be ready for you, and have been kept hot."
Elan grinned. "What would I do without you, Aaron?"
Aaron fixed him with a sidelong glance, and smirked. "Stink, probably."
The clash of metal against metal rang in Elan's ears as his blade met with his opponent's, jarring his shoulder as he knocked the attempted thrust aside and moved to answer with a retaliatory strike. His hair was matted to his forehead, slick with sweat, and his body was already sore from a number of bruises despite the padded sparring gear he wore.
Across from him, Hildegarde barely seemed to have broken a sweat. Though he'd slipped past the woman's guard a few times to land glancing blows, the disparity in their skill was obvious. For every time he'd managed to strike her, he'd paid with several thorough trouncings. But it was good, he thought, as he gambled on a swift barrage of light strikes in an attempt to batter his way through her defences, and each was turned away in turn.
For all that he excelled in his scheduled sparring training with the other young men of the court, it was good to be reminded how utterly outclassed he still was by a veteran.
With a final arc of her sword, Hildegard sent him stumbling, and she brought the blade down firmly on his shoulder. He winced with pain. It was a strike that would have left him unable to fight on, were they wielding sharpened weapons. Another victory for her.
He let out a long and belaboured sigh, letting his stance drop and lowering his weapon.
"Not too shabby, my lord," Hildegard remarked, grinning. "But you committed too much to that flurry, without a recourse if you failed to break my guard. A manoeuvre like that is best saved for when you're confident you've worn your opponent down enough for it to overwhelm them."
Elan nodded his head breathlessly, stepping away and slumping down onto a bench. "Five minutes," he managed to breathe out. "Then again." As he set his weapon down, the sound of skittering claws announced Lothwyr joining him upon the bench. The pseudodrake prowled over to seat itself beside him, looking up as though pondering taking a perch upon his shoulder, but thinking better of it in his rather unkempt and sweaty state. Elan smiled, reaching across to scratch him on the head, eliciting a murr of contentment.
"My lord?" The voice of Aaron, his attendant, was soft but laced with disapproving concern. "Perhaps it would be best to take a more significant respite. You're expected to attend court in an hour, and you'll need time to bathe and change your attire..."
Sighing, Elan nodded by way of concession. Court. How had he forgotten? Wishful thinking, perhaps? "You're right, of course. I hadn't realised time had gotten so far away from me."
"One too many knocks to the head, perhaps..." The mousey-haired young man smirked as he stepped over, proffering a cool towel, that Elan took with a grateful smile. Some might have considered such a remark to be horrendously improper, coming from a servant, but Aaron had been with him for over a decade, now. He was the son of one of the women who had helped his parents care for him when he was growing, and they had been friends long before Aaron had taken on the role of his attendant.
"Perhaps," he replied, pressing the cool fabric to his head. It was blissful, and he almost forgot the second half of his sentence as he enjoyed the sensation. "... or perhaps I'm just complacent, what with having such a reliable timekeeper on hand."
"I'm not sure about on hand," Aaron murmured, "I think until you've bathed, I'd prefer to remain at arm's length."
Resisting the urge to flick the towel at him, Elan opted to ignore the jibe and returned his thoughts to the afternoon's session of court. "I suppose I'll be meeting that dreadful Westron who arrived earlier today, won't I? The one chasing after poor Esther. Viscount Falkenrath. Almost twice her age." He wrinkled his nose. "With any luck, she'll be miles from the castle already. She does seem to have a knack for escaping these men."
"And leaving you and the Queen to handle the political fallout," Aaron murmured, sounding less pleased.
Elan laughed. "I suppose there's that. We can only promise 'next time' for so long before it starts looking like we're mocking them..."
Aaron nodded. "I understand why she flees, truly. But you're going to suffer for it, if you find yourself without alliances by marriage when you take the throne."
"Well, we'll just have to find her a more palatable alternative," Elan mused for a few moments. "Leontinus, perhaps. He's close to her age, and stands to be the next head of House Arluanus. I think they would get along - Leo's the quiet type, which I think is more Esther's preference than the brash attitudes of most of the previous prospects. Though, I fear she will baulk at anything arranged for her, regardless of the suitor. Her head is too filled with those tales of true romance she reads."
"It may be worth exploring, my lord, nonetheless. Even if you have to play games, and arrange it so that it seems like it isn't arranged. But, if I may..." Aaron glanced up at the sun. "We're running short on time."
Elan sighed, nodding his head. "Then let's get moving." He turned to look across at Hildegard, who was in the process of removing her padded armour. "Thank you for your time again, Hilde."
"A pleasure as always, my lord," she replied with a grin.
The prince raised an eyebrow. "One might suspect you enjoy smacking me around more than is appropriate."
"Me, my lord? Never, my lord. Couldn't possibly, my lord." Hildegard made a terrible attempt at looking indignantly surprised at the accusation. Elan snorted with laughter.
"Of course. My mistake. Until later, Hilde." She bowed her head respectfully, and returned to attending to the sparring gear.
"I already took the liberty of getting some of the servants to ready a bath, while you were sparring," Aaron noted as Elan rose. Lothwyr hopped from the bench to follow alongside him as they walked. "It should be ready for you, and have been kept hot."
Elan grinned. "What would I do without you, Aaron?"
Aaron fixed him with a sidelong glance, and smirked. "Stink, probably."
As Written by Script:
The castle's throne room was, once a week, laid open to citizens of the kingdom to come and seek audience with their ruler. They brought petitions, requests and appeals; be they merely wanting their voice to be heard, requesting royal support or permission for a venture, or pleading for military aid against bandits or raiders, all-comers were welcome.
At least, in theory. In reality, it was a relatively small proportion of the petitioners that were actually seen. They were vetted by guards responsible for turning away clearly frivolous cases, and came in volumes great enough that simple time was the greatest limitation on how many could enter.
It was, if a tedious and time-consuming duty, one that Elan felt was amongst the most important of a ruler. The people had to know that they could be heard: that they mattered. Without that belief, what was a king to them but the taxman? The draft? What good was a leader who thought not of those he led?
It was a duty that had fallen largely to him for some years now. Seated upon a smaller throne set beneath the High King's seat, and flanked by advisors and guards, he watched over the hall as each petitioner was led in to make their plea. Some of the decisions were easy. Trouble with bandits in a small village on the borders of the kingdoms? They could easily afford to send troops to their aid. A man wished for permission to build upon royally owned land? Provided he could afford the associated levies, it would be granted.
Many of them were not so easy. Usually, they were the ones he had to decline.
The crown could not give handouts to every struggling mother, nor could they provide pardon to every young son subject to the displeasure of a vindictive baron. They were not a charity, nor a bank. Even so, his heart warred with his mind. He was more generous, perhaps, than his advisors would have preferred. Far from frivolous, but less stingy than those who saw every unnecessary plea as a matter of numbers, not of people.
Today had been one of the more challenging days.
It was late afternoon, some time since the court of pleas had finished, and Elan was seated on the edge of his bed in his quarters. The fire flickered at the edge of the room, casting it in a gentle light and a cosy warmth. Lothwyrh was curled up beside it, snoozing happily. The prince's expression was solemn, as his mind lingered on one particular petitioner.
A woman's son had been arrested and sentenced to hang in a town to the west, within the king's holdings. His crime was one of theft, and inadvertent injury. He had pilfered a local lord's coinpurse, and in his attempt at evading escape, had dislodged a merchant's barrel - causing it to roll from a cart onto the lord, breaking the man's leg.
A crime of desperation followed by an injury caused as much by the merchant's failure to correctly secure his merchandise as it was by the boy's mistake. The boy was just gone thirteen summers. His mother had ridden without sleep for several nights to beg the king for a pardon, before the sentence was to be carried out. Her boy had meant no harm. He had only sought to help his family.
And yet, in doing so, not only had he stolen - he had caused great injury to a man of noble birth and some influence. There was no way Elan could grant the woman's request without a scandal, and indeed, by law hanging was the demanded punishment for his crime, be it inadvertent or nay. His advisors had noted as much, dismissing the case out of hand.
His heart was not so easily swayed, however. The perpetrator was a mere child. He surely did not deserve death for what amounted to the foolishness of youth gone awry?
But there was no recourse. Though he had the power to pardon the boy, he could not do so without making an enemy of the faulted lord, and the disapproval of his court. In time such as this, he could not afford to be raising doubts as to his ability to make hard decisions.
And so he had turned her away.
The image of the woman - still pleading desperately through her sobs - being dragged out of the throne room, was seared into his mind.
The door of his quarters swung open, and he looked up to see Aaron enter, carrying a tray of food.
"I thought you might prefer to take your evening meal here today, my lord," his attendant said softly.
Elan gestured for Aaron to set the tray down on the nearby table, nodding his head.
"If I might speak freely..." Aaron hesitated, but when Elan raised no protest, he forged on. "You made the only decision you could have done. The law ... the law was clear, and even you cannot supersede it without due cause. You should not feel guilty."
"Were that it was so easy," Elan replied, looking up with a sad smile. Of course Aaron knew what he was brooding over, even though he had said nothing of the reason for his temperament. "You are perceptive as ever, I see."
Aaron returned the smile, clasping his hands together. "I would be a poor attendant if I could not read you, my lord. It is my duty to be able to respond to your needs without prompting."
"I suppose I'm lucky that the nobility don't find me so transparent... or at least, I hope they don't."
"I should think not. You aren't yourself in their company, most of the time."
"Am I not?" Elan raised an eyebrow. Not himself?
Aaron shook his head. "You ... are the man you have to be. You show them what they need to see in you."
"And that isn't me? I don't possess those things, so I must fake them?" If it had been anyone but Aaron saying that, Elan would already have been offended. As it was, he presumed that he had misconstrued the meaning.
"That's- That's not what I meant!" Aaron's eyes widened. "Of course you possess them, but- You must show them strength without weakness, and in many cases, wisdom without heart. That's what a lot of them want in a future king. But.... every king is also a man. A man with a heart, and weakness. Though he often hides them, they still define him. And they are important."
Elan rose to his feet after a moment's silence in the wake of Aaron's explanation. He gazed thoughtfully at the fire before he turned to look at him, smiling. He stepped over, lifting a hand to gently brush at his cheek. "Were that all the kingdom so wise," he said softly. If even half of his peers at court were so accepting of the barest hint of weakness, his life would be immeasurably easier. "Thank you. I'm glad that you don't think me a monster for denying that poor woman. And I'm glad that I can show that weakness to you."
Blushing, Aaron reached up to place his own hand over Elan's. "I- I'm glad that you trust me with it, my l-"
"We're alone, Aaron. Just Elan."
"Sorry. Elan... I honestly don't think you could be a monster if you tried."
Elan sighed. Could he not? "If I am willing to condemn a child to death to avoid upsetting the court, then..."
"It wasn't like that, it-"
"It was. Truly, Aaron. I put the stability of my position before the life of a boy." He grimaced, lowering his hand. "I cannot ignore that."
Aaron frowned. "I... You have an entire kingdom to consider. It's a precarious time. Any upset could spiral out of control. I still think you did the right thing."
Elan couldn't help but laugh softly, looking up to make eye contact with his friend, and smiling once more. He wondered where he might be today without Aaron's earnest support to rely on. At times like this, he was reminded why he valued his friend - perhaps more than a friend, in truth - so much. "Sometimes I wonder if I deserve your loyalty, Aaron. You have so much faith in me."
"One of us has to," Aaron said, returning the smile. Elan's heart swelled. "You doubt too much."
"Perhaps you're right."
"I know I'm right. I'm always right."
Elan raised an eyebrow. "If I doubt too much, then you must doubt too little."
"Maybe," Aaron conceded. "So we balance out, right?"
The prince brought his hand up to trail through Aaron's hair, nodding. "We do..."
He moved back towards the bed, seating himself and gesturing for Aaron to sit with him. Their conversation shifted to less gloomy subjects, and before too long his sorrowful mood was forgotten. Not long after that, there were other things entirelyon his mind.
The castle's throne room was, once a week, laid open to citizens of the kingdom to come and seek audience with their ruler. They brought petitions, requests and appeals; be they merely wanting their voice to be heard, requesting royal support or permission for a venture, or pleading for military aid against bandits or raiders, all-comers were welcome.
At least, in theory. In reality, it was a relatively small proportion of the petitioners that were actually seen. They were vetted by guards responsible for turning away clearly frivolous cases, and came in volumes great enough that simple time was the greatest limitation on how many could enter.
It was, if a tedious and time-consuming duty, one that Elan felt was amongst the most important of a ruler. The people had to know that they could be heard: that they mattered. Without that belief, what was a king to them but the taxman? The draft? What good was a leader who thought not of those he led?
It was a duty that had fallen largely to him for some years now. Seated upon a smaller throne set beneath the High King's seat, and flanked by advisors and guards, he watched over the hall as each petitioner was led in to make their plea. Some of the decisions were easy. Trouble with bandits in a small village on the borders of the kingdoms? They could easily afford to send troops to their aid. A man wished for permission to build upon royally owned land? Provided he could afford the associated levies, it would be granted.
Many of them were not so easy. Usually, they were the ones he had to decline.
The crown could not give handouts to every struggling mother, nor could they provide pardon to every young son subject to the displeasure of a vindictive baron. They were not a charity, nor a bank. Even so, his heart warred with his mind. He was more generous, perhaps, than his advisors would have preferred. Far from frivolous, but less stingy than those who saw every unnecessary plea as a matter of numbers, not of people.
Today had been one of the more challenging days.
It was late afternoon, some time since the court of pleas had finished, and Elan was seated on the edge of his bed in his quarters. The fire flickered at the edge of the room, casting it in a gentle light and a cosy warmth. Lothwyrh was curled up beside it, snoozing happily. The prince's expression was solemn, as his mind lingered on one particular petitioner.
A woman's son had been arrested and sentenced to hang in a town to the west, within the king's holdings. His crime was one of theft, and inadvertent injury. He had pilfered a local lord's coinpurse, and in his attempt at evading escape, had dislodged a merchant's barrel - causing it to roll from a cart onto the lord, breaking the man's leg.
A crime of desperation followed by an injury caused as much by the merchant's failure to correctly secure his merchandise as it was by the boy's mistake. The boy was just gone thirteen summers. His mother had ridden without sleep for several nights to beg the king for a pardon, before the sentence was to be carried out. Her boy had meant no harm. He had only sought to help his family.
And yet, in doing so, not only had he stolen - he had caused great injury to a man of noble birth and some influence. There was no way Elan could grant the woman's request without a scandal, and indeed, by law hanging was the demanded punishment for his crime, be it inadvertent or nay. His advisors had noted as much, dismissing the case out of hand.
His heart was not so easily swayed, however. The perpetrator was a mere child. He surely did not deserve death for what amounted to the foolishness of youth gone awry?
But there was no recourse. Though he had the power to pardon the boy, he could not do so without making an enemy of the faulted lord, and the disapproval of his court. In time such as this, he could not afford to be raising doubts as to his ability to make hard decisions.
And so he had turned her away.
The image of the woman - still pleading desperately through her sobs - being dragged out of the throne room, was seared into his mind.
The door of his quarters swung open, and he looked up to see Aaron enter, carrying a tray of food.
"I thought you might prefer to take your evening meal here today, my lord," his attendant said softly.
Elan gestured for Aaron to set the tray down on the nearby table, nodding his head.
"If I might speak freely..." Aaron hesitated, but when Elan raised no protest, he forged on. "You made the only decision you could have done. The law ... the law was clear, and even you cannot supersede it without due cause. You should not feel guilty."
"Were that it was so easy," Elan replied, looking up with a sad smile. Of course Aaron knew what he was brooding over, even though he had said nothing of the reason for his temperament. "You are perceptive as ever, I see."
Aaron returned the smile, clasping his hands together. "I would be a poor attendant if I could not read you, my lord. It is my duty to be able to respond to your needs without prompting."
"I suppose I'm lucky that the nobility don't find me so transparent... or at least, I hope they don't."
"I should think not. You aren't yourself in their company, most of the time."
"Am I not?" Elan raised an eyebrow. Not himself?
Aaron shook his head. "You ... are the man you have to be. You show them what they need to see in you."
"And that isn't me? I don't possess those things, so I must fake them?" If it had been anyone but Aaron saying that, Elan would already have been offended. As it was, he presumed that he had misconstrued the meaning.
"That's- That's not what I meant!" Aaron's eyes widened. "Of course you possess them, but- You must show them strength without weakness, and in many cases, wisdom without heart. That's what a lot of them want in a future king. But.... every king is also a man. A man with a heart, and weakness. Though he often hides them, they still define him. And they are important."
Elan rose to his feet after a moment's silence in the wake of Aaron's explanation. He gazed thoughtfully at the fire before he turned to look at him, smiling. He stepped over, lifting a hand to gently brush at his cheek. "Were that all the kingdom so wise," he said softly. If even half of his peers at court were so accepting of the barest hint of weakness, his life would be immeasurably easier. "Thank you. I'm glad that you don't think me a monster for denying that poor woman. And I'm glad that I can show that weakness to you."
Blushing, Aaron reached up to place his own hand over Elan's. "I- I'm glad that you trust me with it, my l-"
"We're alone, Aaron. Just Elan."
"Sorry. Elan... I honestly don't think you could be a monster if you tried."
Elan sighed. Could he not? "If I am willing to condemn a child to death to avoid upsetting the court, then..."
"It wasn't like that, it-"
"It was. Truly, Aaron. I put the stability of my position before the life of a boy." He grimaced, lowering his hand. "I cannot ignore that."
Aaron frowned. "I... You have an entire kingdom to consider. It's a precarious time. Any upset could spiral out of control. I still think you did the right thing."
Elan couldn't help but laugh softly, looking up to make eye contact with his friend, and smiling once more. He wondered where he might be today without Aaron's earnest support to rely on. At times like this, he was reminded why he valued his friend - perhaps more than a friend, in truth - so much. "Sometimes I wonder if I deserve your loyalty, Aaron. You have so much faith in me."
"One of us has to," Aaron said, returning the smile. Elan's heart swelled. "You doubt too much."
"Perhaps you're right."
"I know I'm right. I'm always right."
Elan raised an eyebrow. "If I doubt too much, then you must doubt too little."
"Maybe," Aaron conceded. "So we balance out, right?"
The prince brought his hand up to trail through Aaron's hair, nodding. "We do..."
He moved back towards the bed, seating himself and gesturing for Aaron to sit with him. Their conversation shifted to less gloomy subjects, and before too long his sorrowful mood was forgotten. Not long after that, there were other things entirelyon his mind.
Otomos the Crazy
That Which Resides in the Stars Beneath the Land
Today was supposed to be another day of standing, patrolling, and basically watching the day pass by without any trouble arising around him at all. It's what Liam Riordan had come to expect, after all. All the action that could possibly happen usually found its way away from his position, and he was left with some other guard to watch passersby go about their daily business as they passed by the outer gate. Suffice to say, it was boring. That's not to say that it wasn't a good thing. No trouble meant that there was no immediate cause for alarm. No one was attempting to riot for some stupid reason, no one was trying to enter the castle to take over the throne. By all means, "boring" meant that the place was safe at the moment.
Still...normal days were still uneventful. Most of the time, Liam spent the shift simultaneously doing his job and partaking in conversation with the guard that was stuck with him. It was amazing how easy it was to hold a conversation while not having any sort of eye contact whatsoever. Hell, the two never even laid their eyes onto each other during their shift. Only before and afterwards. Usually their conversations were about what was happening right in front of them, or what had happened earlier, when neither of them were somewhere else off-shift. That was pretty much the entirety of Liam's normal days at his station.
In any case, today was not a normal day. There was nothing boring about the situation Liam was in, and the other guard had no say in what was about to happen. In front of the two of them, the usual crowd of city-dwellers and civilians went about their day as they have always done. The difference here was that a person was actually walking towards them. At first glance, it would have just seemed to be some random normal individual. However, as they got closer, Liam found that it wasn't just some random person, but someone he did NOT want to see during his post. It was his little brother, Barnaby Riordan.
The young man casually walked up to them, and looked through the gaps in their helmets like some curious child, which at this point, Liam was seriously beginning to think was actually the case. The boy did just recently come of age, after all. Still, he dreaded the moment that Barnaby recognized his eyes. He groaned as his little brother's face lit up, and started patting him on the back as if it was okay for someone to do that to a person wearing ARMOR.
"Liam! I knew I'd be able to see you in time!"
Liam attempted to remain silent as his brother tried to start a conversation. It didn't stop him.
"Oh, wow. Your armor sure does make you look intimidating. I guess without it no one would think that you're all that tough, but still, I can't wait until I get my own set!"
Liam could hear the other guard snickering at Barnaby's words about him. The words coming from the boy's mouth was starting to get to Liam, and it would have if it wasn't for the fact that his last few words got to him first. Liam had to try his best in order to keep watch as he talked.
"What do you mean, 'your own set'? Last I checked you still have to work back home."
"Heheh. C'mon, you know me better than that! I'm going to sign up for training and work my way into the army!"
"What?!"
Barnaby was surprised at how Liam was able to keep his body calm when he exclaimed.
"No, you're too young. You're not signing up for any training."
"What? Liam, I'm 13 years old now. I can handle it."
"You may be an adult, but you're still childish enough to go up to a guard and expect to not get into trouble. Get going."
Barnaby was not happy with those words. In fact he was so unappreciative that he he not only refused to follow the words of his brother, he proceeded to talk his ear off how he had the gall to say that he was too young to go through training, when Liam himself went as soon as he could. The other guard simply chuckled as the brothers went into a argument.
Still...normal days were still uneventful. Most of the time, Liam spent the shift simultaneously doing his job and partaking in conversation with the guard that was stuck with him. It was amazing how easy it was to hold a conversation while not having any sort of eye contact whatsoever. Hell, the two never even laid their eyes onto each other during their shift. Only before and afterwards. Usually their conversations were about what was happening right in front of them, or what had happened earlier, when neither of them were somewhere else off-shift. That was pretty much the entirety of Liam's normal days at his station.
In any case, today was not a normal day. There was nothing boring about the situation Liam was in, and the other guard had no say in what was about to happen. In front of the two of them, the usual crowd of city-dwellers and civilians went about their day as they have always done. The difference here was that a person was actually walking towards them. At first glance, it would have just seemed to be some random normal individual. However, as they got closer, Liam found that it wasn't just some random person, but someone he did NOT want to see during his post. It was his little brother, Barnaby Riordan.
The young man casually walked up to them, and looked through the gaps in their helmets like some curious child, which at this point, Liam was seriously beginning to think was actually the case. The boy did just recently come of age, after all. Still, he dreaded the moment that Barnaby recognized his eyes. He groaned as his little brother's face lit up, and started patting him on the back as if it was okay for someone to do that to a person wearing ARMOR.
"Liam! I knew I'd be able to see you in time!"
Liam attempted to remain silent as his brother tried to start a conversation. It didn't stop him.
"Oh, wow. Your armor sure does make you look intimidating. I guess without it no one would think that you're all that tough, but still, I can't wait until I get my own set!"
Liam could hear the other guard snickering at Barnaby's words about him. The words coming from the boy's mouth was starting to get to Liam, and it would have if it wasn't for the fact that his last few words got to him first. Liam had to try his best in order to keep watch as he talked.
"What do you mean, 'your own set'? Last I checked you still have to work back home."
"Heheh. C'mon, you know me better than that! I'm going to sign up for training and work my way into the army!"
"What?!"
Barnaby was surprised at how Liam was able to keep his body calm when he exclaimed.
"No, you're too young. You're not signing up for any training."
"What? Liam, I'm 13 years old now. I can handle it."
"You may be an adult, but you're still childish enough to go up to a guard and expect to not get into trouble. Get going."
Barnaby was not happy with those words. In fact he was so unappreciative that he he not only refused to follow the words of his brother, he proceeded to talk his ear off how he had the gall to say that he was too young to go through training, when Liam himself went as soon as he could. The other guard simply chuckled as the brothers went into a argument.
The ruckus could be heard within the inner walls of the men squabbling. Titanna arched a brow and decided to investigate the cause of the sqwabble
Rounding the corner and through the side gate door, she peered around and caught sight of the young man and the guard, Liam. The other gate guard was nearly in stitches, but at the sight of the woman storming towards them, he straightened up rigidly. The woman stood tall, taller than some of the men here in the castle. Her hair burned red as the flames inside a blacksmith's furnace, and her stark grey eyes held a storm within them. Normally she wore armor, but today she wore a tunic meant for training, but still showed her status and rank with her family's insignia embroidered on her shoulder. Titanna was one of the few female knights under the High King.
"Oi, whats all the fuss about?" Her accent, thick with a burr from the northlands.
"Today's no; ah visitor day. Wha' is your purpose 'ere, boy?" She addressed Barnaby, while glaring over at Liam.
Rounding the corner and through the side gate door, she peered around and caught sight of the young man and the guard, Liam. The other gate guard was nearly in stitches, but at the sight of the woman storming towards them, he straightened up rigidly. The woman stood tall, taller than some of the men here in the castle. Her hair burned red as the flames inside a blacksmith's furnace, and her stark grey eyes held a storm within them. Normally she wore armor, but today she wore a tunic meant for training, but still showed her status and rank with her family's insignia embroidered on her shoulder. Titanna was one of the few female knights under the High King.
"Oi, whats all the fuss about?" Her accent, thick with a burr from the northlands.
"Today's no; ah visitor day. Wha' is your purpose 'ere, boy?" She addressed Barnaby, while glaring over at Liam.
Otomos the Crazy
That Which Resides in the Stars Beneath the Land
"Oh no" muttered Liam when he heard the knightess' voice.
He hesitated to turn his head in case there was anyone else with her. A simple glance allowed him to spot a familiar face approaching. As much as he wanted to groan at how much worse the situation became, he held back, since it would probably just come back again soon. It was Titanna. A girl from the Northlands that he trained alongside for a while. She was knighted recently, which meant that if she tanned any of their hides, she'd probably make it much more painful than anything he went through during training. She was supposed to be on the other side of the walls, but apparently he and Barnaby had been arguing to much that it attracted attention from even there.
"Look, Titanna. It's really nothing. He was just about to make his way home."
Liam emphasized the last part in order to give a hint to Barnaby that he should be on his way. Barnaby however did not want to just stand down with this. Unfortunately for himself, he didn't notice that he was addressing a knight, so his words weren't really chosen carefully.
"I'm just here to tell my brother that I'm old enough to make my own decisions, and I'm going to join the royal army someday soon. He thinks I can't handle it, but I've been doing some training of my own!"
"With what? A twig and a mound of dirt?"
"For your information, I've been practicing with that old spear. If I keep it up I might be able to climb up the ranks when-mmph!"
Although he didn't want to, Liam placed his hand over Barnaby's mouth, breaking his straightened posture in an attempt to shut his little brother up.
"Shut it, you git! Don't get cocky in front of her. Show some respect for a knight" whispered Liam.
"mmph?!"
Barnaby broke free of his brother's grip and spoke in a tone that made it clear that he was concerned for what may happen next.
"Y-You're a knight? A-Apologies, ma'am!"
He hesitated to turn his head in case there was anyone else with her. A simple glance allowed him to spot a familiar face approaching. As much as he wanted to groan at how much worse the situation became, he held back, since it would probably just come back again soon. It was Titanna. A girl from the Northlands that he trained alongside for a while. She was knighted recently, which meant that if she tanned any of their hides, she'd probably make it much more painful than anything he went through during training. She was supposed to be on the other side of the walls, but apparently he and Barnaby had been arguing to much that it attracted attention from even there.
"Look, Titanna. It's really nothing. He was just about to make his way home."
Liam emphasized the last part in order to give a hint to Barnaby that he should be on his way. Barnaby however did not want to just stand down with this. Unfortunately for himself, he didn't notice that he was addressing a knight, so his words weren't really chosen carefully.
"I'm just here to tell my brother that I'm old enough to make my own decisions, and I'm going to join the royal army someday soon. He thinks I can't handle it, but I've been doing some training of my own!"
"With what? A twig and a mound of dirt?"
"For your information, I've been practicing with that old spear. If I keep it up I might be able to climb up the ranks when-mmph!"
Although he didn't want to, Liam placed his hand over Barnaby's mouth, breaking his straightened posture in an attempt to shut his little brother up.
"Shut it, you git! Don't get cocky in front of her. Show some respect for a knight" whispered Liam.
"mmph?!"
Barnaby broke free of his brother's grip and spoke in a tone that made it clear that he was concerned for what may happen next.
"Y-You're a knight? A-Apologies, ma'am!"
Tittanna had turned her attention to the young man, folding her arms across her chest. She held no expression, except for her raised brow, listening to every word he said. Most people would have found the boy's flustered state humorous after his discovery of her being a knight, but Tittanna herself was very seldom one for humor. She even rarely became personable or sociable, stating that it was mostly a waste of time and energy that could be put to better use elsewhere. She trained hard, harder than anyone in her regimen and was dedicated to perfection.
"You." She pointed at the other guard and he stumbled slightly. "Go get a replacement for Liam 'ere for a while." He nodded and went to do as he was bid. Silence hung in the air as the three of them waited. It wasn't but 10 or so minutes when the replacement returned with him. "You two, follow me." She pointed at both the Barnaby and Liam before turning and walking back the direction she came. "Don't think about running. You won't like the result." She warned.
She would lead them through the inner wall, and soon Liam would recognize the direction she was taking them. The sounds of swords clattering against steel, wooden poles clashing against each other, and shouting men and women fighting could be heard soon enough. The flame-haired woman led them to the field, pulling two wooden poles from a barrel. "So you've been practicin' with an old spear." She stated, handing Barnaby a pole, keeping the other herself. "Show me."
"You." She pointed at the other guard and he stumbled slightly. "Go get a replacement for Liam 'ere for a while." He nodded and went to do as he was bid. Silence hung in the air as the three of them waited. It wasn't but 10 or so minutes when the replacement returned with him. "You two, follow me." She pointed at both the Barnaby and Liam before turning and walking back the direction she came. "Don't think about running. You won't like the result." She warned.
She would lead them through the inner wall, and soon Liam would recognize the direction she was taking them. The sounds of swords clattering against steel, wooden poles clashing against each other, and shouting men and women fighting could be heard soon enough. The flame-haired woman led them to the field, pulling two wooden poles from a barrel. "So you've been practicin' with an old spear." She stated, handing Barnaby a pole, keeping the other herself. "Show me."
Otomos the Crazy
That Which Resides in the Stars Beneath the Land
Liam did not like this. Not one bit. He was dragged away from his post, and brought over to the training grounds. He didn't hate the place, but he wasn't keen on seeing the coming event. The moment they entered the area, he knew what Tittanna was going to do. Not only that, he knew exactly what his boneheaded little brother was going to do. He was going to get his ass kicked faster than an impatient person's lazy donkey when he the damn thing won't get up.
He watched as Barnaby hesitantly walked to a spot a small distance away from Tittanna. Liam had to admit that Barnaby's stance wasn't as bad as he thought it would be. Problem was it was a basic stance, and his legs were too close together. Thrusting with that stance would have him lose enough control over the pole that he wouldn't be able to recover in time before his opponent countered. Let alone Tittanna. Still, even with the nervousness shining through Barnaby's eyes, Liam saw that Barnaby had decided to give this a try. A decision that he would surely come to regret in a moment.
Barnaby gulped down his nervousness in order to do what he was told. He hadn't trained on his own to stumble now. Even if his opponent was an actual knight, he had to at least try. So he moved forward, not as a charge, but to build up momentum so the pole would shoot forward when he stopped. The spear was good for range when it came to weapons, and he focused on trying to make the most out of that fact. With a grunt , he thrust the pole towards Tittanna, keeping both hand on it. It wouldn't go as far as it could, but it would definitely have a stronger punch than with one arm.
He watched as Barnaby hesitantly walked to a spot a small distance away from Tittanna. Liam had to admit that Barnaby's stance wasn't as bad as he thought it would be. Problem was it was a basic stance, and his legs were too close together. Thrusting with that stance would have him lose enough control over the pole that he wouldn't be able to recover in time before his opponent countered. Let alone Tittanna. Still, even with the nervousness shining through Barnaby's eyes, Liam saw that Barnaby had decided to give this a try. A decision that he would surely come to regret in a moment.
Barnaby gulped down his nervousness in order to do what he was told. He hadn't trained on his own to stumble now. Even if his opponent was an actual knight, he had to at least try. So he moved forward, not as a charge, but to build up momentum so the pole would shoot forward when he stopped. The spear was good for range when it came to weapons, and he focused on trying to make the most out of that fact. With a grunt , he thrust the pole towards Tittanna, keeping both hand on it. It wouldn't go as far as it could, but it would definitely have a stronger punch than with one arm.
The knight studied the young lad as he took his stance and took note. As he thrusted the pole forward, the woman used her own to knock it to the side, stepping forward and turning to end up behind him. She then prodded her own pole rather hard, aiming for the lad's back.
"Widen your stance." She commanded, whether or not she hit him. "Be more confident in your attack."
"Widen your stance." She commanded, whether or not she hit him. "Be more confident in your attack."
Otomos the Crazy
That Which Resides in the Stars Beneath the Land
Barnaby stumbled forward after Tittanna's pole bashed him in the back. He would have rubbed the spot if not for the fact he was in the middle of something. He followed her words and widened his stance. He was better grounded, but it was obvious to Liam that the boy wasn't going to be landing any hits on her anytime soon.
This time, Barnaby attempted to sweep her legs to trip her onto the ground. He swung the pole low enough to reach her knees.
This time, Barnaby attempted to sweep her legs to trip her onto the ground. He swung the pole low enough to reach her knees.
The butt of her pole went into the ground right before his sweep could reach her knees. At the same time, the flame-haired woman spun on her pole to build momentum to swing herself around and aimed a sturdy kick to the boy's head. It would seem she was not holding back the punishment his actions could bring him.
But Tittanna had her reasoning behind this punishment. The boy had reminded her of something, if he had truly meant what he had said at the gates. And she hoped this would either be a lesson, or a motivation.
By this time, the pair had garnered some watchers. Many knew Tittanna did not have a squire of her own, and the boy's face was new. Some began to whisper, some louder than others, wincing as they realized the unfortunate boy's mistake in gaining the attention of the flame-haired knight.
One of the few trainees walked up to Liam and muttered, "What did he do..?"
But Tittanna had her reasoning behind this punishment. The boy had reminded her of something, if he had truly meant what he had said at the gates. And she hoped this would either be a lesson, or a motivation.
By this time, the pair had garnered some watchers. Many knew Tittanna did not have a squire of her own, and the boy's face was new. Some began to whisper, some louder than others, wincing as they realized the unfortunate boy's mistake in gaining the attention of the flame-haired knight.
One of the few trainees walked up to Liam and muttered, "What did he do..?"
Otomos the Crazy
That Which Resides in the Stars Beneath the Land
After the kick had made contact, Barnaby hit the ground. He was still conscious, and managed to pick himself back up, but he was dazed. The kick had caused him to accidentally bite his lip, and now he was bleeding from the mouth. He honestly didn't want to continue, but he was up against an actual knight, and he wanted to show that all his efforts weren't for naught.
Liam sighed at this. He never wanted to see his brother beaten so badly, and yet here they all were. Apparently, The whole thing has attracted the attention of people that had no business watching an idiot get his arse handed to him. A trainee had even come up to Liam in order to ask what was going on, to which the guard responded with,
"It doesn't matter what he's done. What matters is that he brought this on himself."
Truth be told he'd rather have the other guard make the reason turn into a rumor, rather than embarrass his brother with the truth. Besides, he was busy watching to make sure that Barnaby comes out of it in one piece.
Still dazed from Tittanna's kick, Barnaby foolishly attempted to attack again, this time in an attempt to gain distance. He leapt away from Tittanna, swinging the pole at her while she was still nearby.
Liam sighed at this. He never wanted to see his brother beaten so badly, and yet here they all were. Apparently, The whole thing has attracted the attention of people that had no business watching an idiot get his arse handed to him. A trainee had even come up to Liam in order to ask what was going on, to which the guard responded with,
"It doesn't matter what he's done. What matters is that he brought this on himself."
Truth be told he'd rather have the other guard make the reason turn into a rumor, rather than embarrass his brother with the truth. Besides, he was busy watching to make sure that Barnaby comes out of it in one piece.
Still dazed from Tittanna's kick, Barnaby foolishly attempted to attack again, this time in an attempt to gain distance. He leapt away from Tittanna, swinging the pole at her while she was still nearby.
Titanna watched as the boy struggled to keep up with the fight after the kick. He would need work, but it would seem even alone he had learned quite a bit. As he swung his pole at her once again, she reached out to grab it. She would attempt to rip it from his hands while aiming to butt him hard enough with her own to knock the wind out of him if he didn't let go immediately.
"Enough." She stated, turning to the rest as if realizing there were watchers for the first time. "Get back to your trainin', else you'll be next." The few who had been watching scrambled back to their own business.
She sighed inwardly, turning her attention back to Liam. "Take him to the infirmary and get him stitched up. I'll be there momentarily."
"Enough." She stated, turning to the rest as if realizing there were watchers for the first time. "Get back to your trainin', else you'll be next." The few who had been watching scrambled back to their own business.
She sighed inwardly, turning her attention back to Liam. "Take him to the infirmary and get him stitched up. I'll be there momentarily."
Otomos the Crazy
That Which Resides in the Stars Beneath the Land
Liam watched as his brother was pulled into one final hit. He had to admit that Barbary had some bite to back up his bark, but it was obvious that he had no sense of form, nor enough control to properly handle spears or polearms. The boy squirmed on the ground, trying to catch his breath after getting the wind knocked out of him.
That was that. Tittanna ordered everyone to get back to their own business, and Liam was left to bring Barnaby over to the infirmiry. As he walked over to lift him over his shoulder, Liam saw the look in her eyes. It was something he picked up as a guard. Eyes like that meant that they were thinking on something. Maybe it was important, maybe it wasn't. Regardless, it brought concern to him.
As soon as Liam brought him over to the infirmiry, he told them about his little sparring match, and they got to patching him up. Liam returned to Tittanna. Though he would have been a bit more respectful in other circumstances, this time was different. He had to know what it was she was thinking, and he hoped that it had nothing to do with Barnaby.
"Please tell me that your little spar was the end of it."
That was that. Tittanna ordered everyone to get back to their own business, and Liam was left to bring Barnaby over to the infirmiry. As he walked over to lift him over his shoulder, Liam saw the look in her eyes. It was something he picked up as a guard. Eyes like that meant that they were thinking on something. Maybe it was important, maybe it wasn't. Regardless, it brought concern to him.
As soon as Liam brought him over to the infirmiry, he told them about his little sparring match, and they got to patching him up. Liam returned to Tittanna. Though he would have been a bit more respectful in other circumstances, this time was different. He had to know what it was she was thinking, and he hoped that it had nothing to do with Barnaby.
"Please tell me that your little spar was the end of it."
The flame-haired woman had been on the way to join them in the infirmary when she met up with Liam. She quietly regarded him, debating on how to answer him for a moment. "Would you prefer it that another knight take 'im?" She asked simply. Titanna then sighed before continuing more quietly.
"'e's got talent. And motivation to boot. 'e's old enough now to start makin' 'is own decisions, Liam. I've seen that determination in 'is eyes before. 'e will stop at nothin' to join up eventually, not even you will be enough to keep 'im from it. And once 'e's been through trainin', if 'e works as 'ard as 'e has, 'e will most likely be taken under as a squire." She paused, holding up some papers she had brought with her. "Under my trainin', I'll make sure 'e's goin' to survive. Or I can let 'im fend for 'imself. What would you prefer?"
"'e's got talent. And motivation to boot. 'e's old enough now to start makin' 'is own decisions, Liam. I've seen that determination in 'is eyes before. 'e will stop at nothin' to join up eventually, not even you will be enough to keep 'im from it. And once 'e's been through trainin', if 'e works as 'ard as 'e has, 'e will most likely be taken under as a squire." She paused, holding up some papers she had brought with her. "Under my trainin', I'll make sure 'e's goin' to survive. Or I can let 'im fend for 'imself. What would you prefer?"
Otomos the Crazy
That Which Resides in the Stars Beneath the Land
"I'd prefer that he actually takes time to think about his decisions before chasing after grandiose dreams. He just came of age, Tittanna. He's yet to actually think on what his dream actually involves."
If there was something to be said about Liam, it was that he was somewhat protective over his brother. It came with being an older sibling. He didn't want Barnaby to rush into something where whatever image he had of the knights and army would shatter without remorse. He'd rather have him mature more first before allowing him to make any decision.
"He wants to be in the Royal Army. To him, that means he wants to train to become a warrior that would go out and travel the land, defeating foe after foe on some grand adventure! What it actually means is going through grueling training, and years of hard labor in order to possibly find yourself in a battle. A battle in which he could actually die! You have no idea how stubborn he is, Tittanna! Unless you think you can hammer reality into his head, I don't want him to join so soon!"
If there was something to be said about Liam, it was that he was somewhat protective over his brother. It came with being an older sibling. He didn't want Barnaby to rush into something where whatever image he had of the knights and army would shatter without remorse. He'd rather have him mature more first before allowing him to make any decision.
"He wants to be in the Royal Army. To him, that means he wants to train to become a warrior that would go out and travel the land, defeating foe after foe on some grand adventure! What it actually means is going through grueling training, and years of hard labor in order to possibly find yourself in a battle. A battle in which he could actually die! You have no idea how stubborn he is, Tittanna! Unless you think you can hammer reality into his head, I don't want him to join so soon!"
Titanna closed her eyes and folded her arms across her chest, her hand still clutching the papers. She was silent for a long moment as she listened to Liam. "I think I have a pretty good idea of how stubborn 'e is, Liam. My people are the very definition of stubborn. And I was no exception when I was younger." She stated. "I left my 'ome, my people, for the same reason 'e is. I would imagine, out of all of the knights, I would be the only one who'd be able to 'ammer that reality into his 'ead."
She paused. "Starting with the thrashin' I gave 'im earlier. 'ow willin' do you think 'e'd be willin' to face that again?" She opened her eyes and glared at Liam. "And if he doesn't catch the eye of another knight, what then? As soon as the basic trainin' is over, 'e'll be on the battle field that much sooner. I know that look that was on 'is face. Its not a matter of if. Its a matter of when."
She sighed. "Besides," She said as she brushed passed him towards the infirmary. "The one of two ways a squire can become a knight, is either I've put in a good word to the king, or I die. And until then, 'e won't see battle."
She paused. "Starting with the thrashin' I gave 'im earlier. 'ow willin' do you think 'e'd be willin' to face that again?" She opened her eyes and glared at Liam. "And if he doesn't catch the eye of another knight, what then? As soon as the basic trainin' is over, 'e'll be on the battle field that much sooner. I know that look that was on 'is face. Its not a matter of if. Its a matter of when."
She sighed. "Besides," She said as she brushed passed him towards the infirmary. "The one of two ways a squire can become a knight, is either I've put in a good word to the king, or I die. And until then, 'e won't see battle."
Otomos the Crazy
That Which Resides in the Stars Beneath the Land
Liam wasn't normally one to care about the matters of knights and their trainees, but this was personal. His brother was still a child in his eyes, and he'd rather see him live to be an actual adult, as opposed to watching him grow into someone that would die and be forgotten by all but his family. Still, Tittanna had a point. He hated it, but the point still stood. There were still possibilities where Barnaby would have to fight regardlessly, but those would only happen in a scenario where everything went wrong. As it stands at the moment, there was no chance of it happening. Besides that, he doubted that his brother would refuse the offer anyway, and no amount of protests on his part would stop the boy going through with it. Liam had to concede.
"...Fine."
Liam turned, refusing to make any more eye contact with the knightess.
"Do as you will."
The guard walked away to return to his post. An aura of frustration surrounded him, but the words were said, and he would have to accept it eventually.
"...Fine."
Liam turned, refusing to make any more eye contact with the knightess.
"Do as you will."
The guard walked away to return to his post. An aura of frustration surrounded him, but the words were said, and he would have to accept it eventually.
The woman shook her head and headed off to the infirmary. There she would look for Barnaby and whether or not the kid was still conscious.
She sighed and leaned against the wall, near the table he had been sat in order to get looked at.
"That's what training is like 'ere pretty much every day, kid. Think you can manage it?" Titanna asked.
She sighed and leaned against the wall, near the table he had been sat in order to get looked at.
"That's what training is like 'ere pretty much every day, kid. Think you can manage it?" Titanna asked.