Our Lady Knight

Discussion in 'THREAD ARCHIVES' started by Literary_Dreamer, Dec 23, 2012.

  1. Prince Elouan was grinning as he reached down to help his friend off the ground. He clapped the stockier young man on the shoulder once he was standing again.

    “You’re getting better, Tobin,” he said.

    “Still not good enough to beat you, my lord,” the noble said. He was the heir to an earldom and possibly a duchy, if his mother’s brother failed to have any sons. He was well respected amongst the other young knights as the best fighter other than the prince.

    “If any of you are going easy on me…” Elouan threatened, choosing not to finish his sentence as he fixed joking stares on each of the knights he’d just defeated in the last round of sparring.

    “If we went easy on you, we wouldn’t make it out of the ring,” one of the knights said, adding on a belated, “my lord,” when he realized that the prince had heard. Elouan found the comment so funny that he dropped the sword he was beginning to pick up from laughing so hard.

    “You make me sound so ruthless, Oran,” he said when he’d caught his breath. “I’m sure you said it with all the greatest respect, but I don’t want to frighten off the ladies with a fearsome reputation.” As he said that, he turned to make a flourish of a bow to the ladies sitting in a balcony, too far away to hear what the knights were saying. His eyes lingered longest on a pretty young woman who blushed when she noticed the prince’s gaze.

    “He wants to impress the Lady Alazne,” Tobin said, making a show of confiding this information only to Oran but speaking loud enough for all of the knights to hear. Elouan turned red before he tackled Tobin to the ground and forced him to admit defeat a second time.

    “Elouan! Get off the ground!” A middle aged man walked into the ring and barked his orders at Elouan as if he didn’t care that the young man was a prince. Elouan promptly obeyed. “The squires have arrived. You must watch their sparring matches because you must choose one to train this year. You must be careful with whom you choose because it is a reflection on both you and them. I wish that I could tell you to at least look presentable but you were supposed to be there ten minutes ago and well…” He scowled at Elouan’s appearance.

    Elouan brushed some of the dust out of his dark brown curls and gave a half-hearted attempt at a smile. “I’m sorry, Uncle.”

    Elouan’s uncle, Prince Ardian was known for being the most disciplined knight in all of history. What he lacked in talent, he made up for with ridiculous hours of training. He was getting older now, so he gracefully declined attending many of tournaments and other displays of fighting skill now, preferring to leave that to the younger knights. There were some in the court who admired Ardian’s determination and believed he was more suited to the throne than his brother, Emeric. Ardian scoffed at these ideas and even threatened to denounce one of those nobles as a traitor.

    Elouan obediently followed his uncle out of the sparring ring. His friends, who were not royal and therefore not required to take on squires, stayed behind.

    When they reached the area where the squires were preparing to spar, Elouan declined the seat that was waiting for him and chose to stand, instead, with the less noble knights who were taking on squires.

    Sighing, for he knew that he would never convince his nephew to take his rightful place as heir to the throne, Ardian sat in Elouan’s place instead, and announced the beginning of the squires’ matches.
  2. "Father! No! I can't do this. I may know how to handle a sword, but I don't stand a chance against these people!They are huge! And well... I am a girl!" She tried to beg her father not to make her do this. She was a scholar. Not a fighter. Yes, she had learned how to swing a sword from her father, and was agile like a cat. But Sayomi was not strong. She could shoot a bow like a champion, but that was because it only needed hand eye coordination.

    The father looked into his daughters deep emerald green eyes. "We have already done what needs to be done. You cannot disgrace me like this. I did this until you were born, and your mother died. Let me see my kin excel like I once did!" He practically screamed, raising his fist in the air. All she could do was nod her head. "Yes, father. I will not disappoint you."

    She looked down and made sure that she was bound tight enough to hide her curves, and make her look as flat as she could be while still breathing. She pinned her long silky reddish brown hair, and but on a cap to hide it. She refused to cut it. It was the only thing that would still tie her to who she used to be.

    Taking a deep breath, her face stern and collected, she walked into the tent and awaited with the other squires to be put to the test. There was hardly any time for her to try to figure out what to do, but she just went with it. She figured that it would be going by either last name, or first name, which meant that she would have enough time to watch and plan her next move. She was wrong.

    As the match was announced, and the she was pointed to, along with another male. She gasped as she looked over her opponent. He was much larger then she was. Her eyes widened as he grabbed his sword and drew it. Slowly she pulled out her sword and took her stance. She didn't let her fear completely take over her features. She knew that she needed to hold her own. Once the whistle blew, she almost ran. The man ran towards her and swung. Her first instinct was to duck. So she ducked, avoiding the sword, and came up swinging. She had made contact, but it wasn't hard enough to stun or even stagger him.

    The man charged at Sayomi again, and she rolled out of the way, but didn't come back with any sort of an attack. Once she knew that she couldn't even hurt him, she felt that the efforts would be futile until she wore him down. With ever swing or attack he threw at her. And she tried to avoid him. Eventually though, she as picked up and was thrown on the ground. As she hit the ground her breath escaped her and a grunt escaped her full and round lips.

    As he raised the sword above his, and began to swing down, she kicked the sword out of his hands and attempted to get up and run. But she left her very own sword. He picked it up, and caught her in the stomach with it. She dropped to her knees once more as he bought the hilt down and made contact with the back of her head. She fell to the ground, unconscious.
  3. Elouan watched the matches with care, afraid that he would choose the wrong squire if he did not. He didn’t want to disappoint his father or his uncle. Adding to his uncertainty was that he was one of the youngest knights there.

    Most knights did not take squires so soon after being knighted. Elouan would never again be without a squire. Even Elouan’s father, King Emeric, had a squire despite having been injured in battle many years before and being unable to actually fight. The king was not watching the matches this year because he already had a squire. Last year, he had chosen Elouan’s cousin, Pista, as his squire. Since boys were squired for at least two years, the king was not in need of a new squire.

    Elouan clearly remembered his own matches five years before. He’d been squired early due to a fright with his father’s failing health. He’d been two years younger than most of the other squires. Since he’d been training informally with his uncle since he’d been old enough to hold a knife and it was nearly certain that he would be his uncle’s squire, the young Elouan had not understood the need for him to participate in the matches.

    Elouan had taken the matches as a game. He hadn’t been prepared for the ferocity with which some of the squires fought. Had he been serious, Elouan could have won each match. He wasn’t, however, and a single misstep had led to him being knocked out in his first match.

    If Elouan recalled correctly, and he wasn’t sure he did, the pain in his head had been nothing compared to the pain of the thrashing his embarrassed uncle had given him. Had he not been expected to take Elouan as his squire, Ardian wouldn’t have taken him. He made sure to remind the boy of that every time he failed.

    Elouan didn’t want to treat his squire the way he’d been treated. He didn’t want the best of the best, whose only goal was to top himself, either. Ardian needed a new squire; he would leave that sort of boy to his uncle.

    Elouan already had his eye on a boy, actually. The boy had reminded him of himself. He was a small lad, smaller than the rest. The boy put up a brave front but all he could do was dodge. The fight was lost before it even began and the boy’s opponent knew it. He drew out the fight longer than he needed to, showing off his talents to the watching knights. When he finally finished it, he gave the lad a solid blow to the head, knocking him out.

    As soon as the fight was over, Elouan began asking about the boy. He received many incredulous looks. The people had not yet learned that he was not like his uncle. Still, he could not leave until all the matches were finished. He waited impatiently to go meet his new squire. By the end of the last round, everyone knew that the loser of the first fight would be Elouan’s squire. Elouan could feel his uncle’s glare.

    As soon as the matches were finished, Elouan sought out his squire. He wasn’t cautious about roaming around, the way he normally was. He was dressed like an average knight, a filthy knight straight from training at that. No one who hadn’t spent many years at court would recognize the prince. To make recognition harder, many male children born shortly after Elouan had been named in honor of the prince with names similar, if not identical, to the prince’s. He could go so far as to introduce himself to someone unfamiliar with court and still not be recognized.

    When he found the boy, he clapped his on the shoulder. “I’d be willing to bet that you’ve got a mighty headache right now,” he said. “Don’t worry. I have a friend, Imara, who is a skilled hand at making medicines. I’m Sir Elouan, by the way. I will be your master knight until you become a knight, yourself.”

    The bond between a knight and his squire was a strong one of master and student that was not broken even after the squire became a knight, but Elouan didn’t feel the need to add that when the boy probably knew already and his head couldn’t feel better than the inside of a bell tower. He motioned for the squire to follow him and began the trek off the dusty training fields to Imara’s little shop.
  4. As Sayomi came to, all she could feel was embarrassment. She was so used to being the best of the best. She was the best at math, science, astrology, Latin, and even the kingdoms history. She had a photographic memory, so everything she learned she retained.

    Slowly standing up, all she could do was look around. She could see th others mocking her. All she wanted to do was to take off the clothes, unwrap herself and brag that at least every day she got to feel breasts, which was more then most of them could say. She had a feeling that most of the men there had never even touched a women besides their mothers.

    Taking a deep breath, and closing her eyes, Sayomi tried to calm herself down. As she continued to breath, Shea nearly let out a soft scream when she was smacked on her back. Turning to see who wished to talk to her, her rosey lips fell open slightly. It was the prince. Before he talked all she could do was stare, and wonder what he wanted. Maybe he was there to tell her that she was horrible, and was no longer needed.

    "A headache I could handle. A headache is trying to attempt calculus after not sleeping because of having to deal with a nobles son who can hardly remember his own name...." after saying that all she did was look at him, eyes as wide as an owl. " Sorry, sir. My sister is Sayomi. A scholar in the kingdom. My name is Micah." she was caught off guard as he said that he would be her knight.

    She blinked a few times, looking at him. Every girl wanted him to be her knight in shinning armor. Both because he was a prince, and because he was extremely handsome. Only now, yes he was her 'knight' but in a completely different contex then what she had dreamed of. There was also the fact that she was a lowly Nobel. Sure she was intelligent, but still not a high enough rank.

    As he signaled for her to follow him, she did. "what type of remedies does this Imara do? I know there a few different medicine men around the kingdom." she referenced ancient civilizations medicin men, the ones who made so called remedies. Back then, most wer just placebos, but mentally they made people feel better, which is sometimes all that they need.
  5. “Imara is…unique,” Elouan laughed, wondering what the lad would think of his strange friend. Imara was a combination of quirks and humour that made him impossible to predict. He certainly wasn’t the sort of person a prince was likely to befriend.

    The prince would say no more and lead his new squire into town. He weaved through the narrow, winding streets quickly as he followed the well-remembered path. He made sure not to lose his quire, but he did not slow down for the boy either.

    When he found a peculiarly precarious house, he ducked inside.

    “Imara!” he called loudly as soon as he was within.

    The first floor of the building was the medicine shop where Imara did his business. Above was where Imara lived, but Elouan had never been up there.

    The shop was a crowded place, filled with books and bottles and totems of all kinds. Nothing was organized, nothing was labelled. It wasn’t even neat. Plants hung, drying, from the ceiling, giving the place a low, closed feeling.

    From behind a tall stack of books a young man came to meet them. He was tall but thin, almost to the point of being gaunt. He hid his thinness well under his threadbare clothes, but his cheeks were a little hollow. His dark green eyes, however, were full of energy and sparkled laughingly. His hair, a pale red, was long and plaited, kept in check by a frayed piece of twine. Surprisingly, he was clean shaven.

    “Elouan!” he said in greeting, then saw the prince’s disapproving look and the squire behind him and changed his tone. “I mean, Your Highness. It is an honour, as always, to serve you. What may I do for you today?”

    “This is Micah,” Elouan said, motioning for the boy to step forward. “He is my squire.”

    “Is he indeed?” Imara asked, moving closer to examine the boy in greater detail. “He is a brazen lad to be injured so badly so soon. The new squires have only just arrived,” he looked up at Elouan, “have they not?”

    “He was knocked out in the first match,” Elouan said. “I’m afraid it has left him with quite the headache, which is why we’ve come to you. The formal pledgings are tonight and it is torture even under the best of health.”

    “Hm…” Imara grabbed the boy’s chin and tilted his head up. “I believe it may be more serious than I first imagined. I shall have to examine him more thoroughly.” He glanced at Elouan, “In private, I think.”

    Imara took the lad’s arm and led him upstairs. When he was sure they were out of earshot, he turned to face the boy. “So, Lady Micah, would you like to explain to me why you are the prince’s squire?”
  6. Sayomi followed remembering every turn that they took. She had a feeling that she may be coming here fairly often. She knew that she could out maneuver most of the males because of her slender figure, and the fact that while yes she was a scholar , she was still taught the grace that even a princess was taught. You did not go to become a scholar to be looked down upon for not having grace and knowing how to present ones self.

    She was more worried about the strength. She only knew a minimal amount of stances, and attacks. As she was lost in thought, she almost ran into a building trying to keep up with the prince. She shook her head, and stayed with him. Quickly she reached down her shirt, and in a fluid motion applied purple lipstick to her lips. She practiced it so often, that now it just looked like a tick. The light purple helped to make her rosey lips look paler.

    As the two walked into the shop, she looked around at everything. It kind of reminded her of an old story that her grandmother used to tell her. She started looking around the shop, not even noticing that the prince had stopped. Or even that there was now another person there. She looked at the items scattered around the shop, and as she reached out to touch a feather, she caught that she was being mentioned.

    She quickly snapped forward, and came forth as called, bowing her head. "An honor to meet you, sir." she said her green eyes looking into his. She found them complexing. She knew that he knew far more then she ever would.

    As she felt the mans slender fingers on her chin, she held her breath, and looked away. Not wanting to look him in the eye when he was so close. When he said that it was worse then what he thought, her eyes widened as she thought of all that could be wrong.

    Once she started to be led up the stairs, she looked behind her, with widened eyes, she looked at the prince, worried. She didn't want to go anywhere alone with the man she didn't know. Before long they stopped. And when Imara looked at her she froze. Once he said Lady, she grew pale. How did he know.. Or was this some kind of test.

    She raised her head, looking him in the eyes. " I do not know what you are talking about sir." she said to him in a stern voice. She wasn't about to offer up information that could land her in jail.
  7. “Do not play the fool my lady, it does not suit you,” Imara said. “You cannot think that I would risk myself by declaring the squire of the prince a woman with no proof. Even behind closed doors, it would be risky. If you were to be insulted and take up charges of slander against me, I would be most severely punished. A peasant does not insult a lord of his son lightly.

    “You cannot dare charge me under these circumstances, though. I was raised in the castle, my mother worked in the kitchens, a favourite of the queen. I’ve known the prince for many years, and you must have noticed that we were close. He would insist on some semblance of fairness for me, in part to save his own face because he cannot have people questioning the gender of his squire. To settle the matter you would be ordered to strip. I think we both know how that would end.

    “If you are a peasant woman, you will be placed in the prison until such a time as they remember you. You will then be flogged and branded and sent on your way.

    “If you are a noble woman, it would be unseemly to leave you in the prison for too long so you will only stay there a night, perhaps two. Depending on your father’s rank, you will be branded, but not flogged. Sadly, unlike a peasant, your punishment does not end there because the same will follow you forever. No man will marry you. Your father will cast you off to be rid of your shame. You will be starving in the gutter before the year is out.

    “But don’t look so frightened. That is only if you make the stupid decision of accusing me of insulting you with my very correct assumption. If I’d wanted to inflict that on you, myself, I would only have needed to ask the prince why he had a female squire. He would have been embarrassed and would have had you prove your gender to me to cut off any jokes that you were female.

    “No, your case is much too interesting to me to get you caught. The prince’s female squire will be an almost endless source of entertainment for me. Where would that go if I turned you in?

    “Besides, between the two of us, his Highness needs someone like you. He needs to train the smallest and the weakest to be the greatest to prove to his uncle and, more importantly, to himself that he is worthy.

    “So, I extend my hand to you in friendship and I ask again, would you like to explain to me why you are the prince’s squire, Lady Micah?”
  8. As Sayomi listened to the words that the man said, she couldn't help but think. She was a noble, so she would have had to be deemed the shame. But her father would not throw her out, and neither would the scholars. They did not care what your rank was. If you were smart, you were accepted. Sayomi never thought that she would be married to begin with, so it didn't bother her if no man ever did want her.

    After much thinking, she figured that no matter what happened, it would not be drastic. Unless the prince was incredibly angry with her. When he offered his hand out in friendship, all she could do was was match his green eyes with her own. Finally, she pulled the cap off, her long silky black hair cascaded down her back.

    " My name is Sayomi Chi. Of the Chi family. My brother was Micah." As she looked at him, she used to sleeve of her shirt to wipe off of the dirt and make up that she had on. It revealed pale and practically flawless skin, and her round rosey lips.

    "You may have heard of my brother.. Who knows. But a few months back, he passed away from an illness. My father, who was once the squire of the princes' grandfather, would not accept that his only son died, and that he would be the last knight of our family.

    "So, he took me from the scholars, and attempted to train me as best as he could in the short time that he had. So I am here, by a twist of fate."

    After so long all she could do was think again. Her mind was usually running at a mile a minute, so getting a minute when her mind wasn't trying to over think everything was a blessing. " by all technicalities,I could have said no, and force my way home back to my books. But, that would be disobeying my father, and his honor. So I am here.

    "I never thought that the prince would have chosen me. I thought that maybe it would be something like the newest knight to get a squire or something like that. I don't know how everything works exactly...." she finally admitted after so long. SHe felt like she had done nothing but ramble on. So sh awaited the next set questions.