Getting along to protect

[DuskRaven]

Meilin had hurried off to work on the dress and had once again gotten her shirt wet from the splash of the water. She sighed. she would go through more shirts than was necessary on this trip. What would that say about her lovely guards position? Not the best.

As she bent over the tub was again found thinking of the food she'd left out for Ely. She hoped that he'd either ate it or packed it back up in his or the princess pack without too much though. She was already envisioning thirty, at least, lashings for her contemptuous attitude displayed towards the noble in the first day. If she was lucky she wouldn't fo it any more. Her inner voice laughed at her. She had never dealt with nobles on a daily basis. She knew that one of her status was to say 'yes my lord' or 'no my lord' depending on the question. Why was it so hard to keep that in mind when around that man? When she found that the dress was as clean as it was going to get--there was hardly a hint that horse dung had graced it's front--she rose and was about to head towards the front of the stables when something slammed into her.

Back into the horses watering troff she went. Soaked were her clothes, her hair, her entire body. Her clean white shirt was now more or less see-through through her breast band protected the outside world from seeing her to that extent for it was a grey material that didn't go see-through very easily. This did not help however that she sat where every horse drank and where she'd already washed two shirts with dung on them. She looked up but no one was around--the culprit having fled the moment he--or she--had made sure that the stupid guard had gotten drenched. Her shoulders slumped for a moment as she got out of the troff and fished the beautiful dress that she'd managed to keep more or less dry up to this point. The silks and ribbons hung limp and looked absolutely hideous in this state. It did not ease her mind when she figured that with all the silks and ribbons and layers that this dress was worth more than the guardswoman would ever make in her lifetime unless she found a treasure that she kept to herself and didn't hand over to the crown which was simply suicide.

She walked, defeated towards where the horses were waiting, the dress hung over her shoulder. It wouldn't matter that Ely had dirtied the dress first--they always blamed the city folk. She emerged just as Ely came to a stumbling halt in his speech about how he'd dirtied the dress.

Her blond hair dripping down her face the woman walked forward and presented the ruined dress to the princess. "Your highness, while cleaning the dress I made a mistake and tripped into the troff. I fear that the dress is ruined, your highness," Meilin told the princess, feeling very self-conscious of how most of her upper body was seen through her shirt that stuck to the paler skin. Unlike the guardswomen that hadn't felt the least bit of shame taking off their shirts and working in breast bands alone, Meilin had always worked with a shirt on thus giving her skin underneath the material a creamy gold next to her tanned appearance on her arms and face from days of work.

 

[Abracadabra]

Ely was, frankly, shocked to see the guardswoman dripping wet. It brought unbidden thoughts to his mind even though the whole situation didn't seem very erotic to him. Mostly he just felt ridiculous. Here they were, him red-faced and sheepish, smelling of horse, and her, in a translucent shirt, oozing horse trough water, holding up the soggy dress. At least the horse shit had left the picture. There was a very long silence in which he feared to face the princess, but at last he cast a hurried glance at her face. She was thin-lipped and dark-eyed, regarding the dress with clear dismay.

"Er," he said, hoping to divert the princess's attention from Meilin, who really hadn't done anything wrong – in fact, he had gotten them both in this lousy situation – "if I may say so, Your Majesty … it … it doesn't appear to be anything lasting." While he tried to sound as hopeful as possible, he was deathly afraid of her anger. He was a country noble, not a prince. He couldn't imagine what she could do. His heart beat faster. She could take away everything – his lands, his wealth, everything. What would his mother do then? What had he done?

He dropped to his knees suddenly, feeling the shame of his cowardice hotly in his face, but there was nothing to be done about it. "Your Majesty," he said hoarsely, "please, I beg of you, do not revoke from me my lands and wealth. I – my brothers – my mo- my parents – it would – please. It was I who ruined the dress and sent the guardswoman to clean it. Truly, I am a useless fool, I –"

"Doddering about it won't change anything," the princess scowled, seeming unimpressed by his display of submission. "Get up." He did so abruptly, wondering what the guardswoman thought of his honor now. The princess opened her mouth, then closed it again. "Well, how did you ruin it?" she asked at last, sounding more curious than upset.

Ely was eager to appease her and answered at once, not even considering dishonesty. "I dropped it in horse shit, Your Majesty. On – on accident!" he added quickly, studying her face for signs of mercy.

The princess's mouth twitched. Her face hardened and she made as if to speak, then her features softened again and she put her hand to her mouth. Her eyes began to sparkle. Then suddenly, taking Ely completely by surprise, she began to laugh heartily, her chest heaving and peals of laughter echoing out into the clear morning day. Ely felt embarrassed at first, then cast a wry glance at Meilin beside him and began to smirk himself. That dress was an atrocious mess. He found himself laughing as well. "It – it won't happen again, Your Majesty," he managed to assure her in between snorts.

 

[DuskRaven]

Meilin had had her gaze on the ground the whole exchange, shuddering as a brief wind played with her damp skin and hair. Horrors upon horrors of tortures ran through her mind as she waited for the judgement they, the nobles, would throw upon her. She was not made for this kind of duty. She was made for fighting and shooting and protecting the palace. She had been made to scare men to death with her glare. And then they started to laugh.

Meilin dared to look up then, into the snickering face of Ely and the laughing princess'. Were they mad? The dress was worth more than Meilin's life and the lives of three other guards. She must have looked quiet the scene with her mouth hung open like someone had socked her in the stomach. Her mother would have told her that a fly or bug would fly into her mouth if she kept her mouth open much longer but Meilin simply couldn't close it. Nobles! They laugh at the destruction of a dress that any number of city folk would have wanted but would never have.

Suddenly Meilin felt angry. Nobles! Her shoulders stiffened as they continued to laugh and Ely swore he wouldn't do it again. "Well it's all fine and dandy that your dress is wet miss but did you know that this would have fed fifteen of the lower city end families for three years? Simply the silk on this dress would have fed ten for a year or so. And I'm not talking nice bread and cheese. I'm talking meat dinners," the guard snapped. She didn't glare at the nobles--that part of her training had remained even if the rest of it had fled for this instance of pure anger. Instead she glared at the dress in her hands. "And the ribbon would have fed a good two households with three children each, two grandparents and a ma and pa. You take the destruction of such a thing so lightly that it's disgusting to us lower folk. The wastefulness of some nobles makes the lower end folk die of starvation, or even the country nobles--if a country noble decides to, they could starve their whole town by demanding high taxes."

Meilin bit her tongue before she could get into any hotter water. But really, would either of them care what lower end folk ate? Meilin could already see the whip being turned into a cat-of-nine with claws at the end. She would not survive this trip. No, no she wouldn't. Instead of waiting to be reprimanded, she went over to the princess horse and stuffed the dress into one of her packs not too gently and then stomped off to her own horse which she hid behind, ready to mount and ride away before either of them could get to her. The outburst was replaying in her mind, over and over. This was why she feared working with nobles. As a city guard she took orders, did as she was told, and shut up. Here she was required to talk with these nobles each day and the structure was so much less than what she was used to. As she stood behind her horse she shuffled through her pack and tried to find a clean, decent shirt. To her dismay the only dry one was the one in which Ely had fallen into dung the night before, which she refused to wear for another day or so so the stench would not be as bad.