"Giselle!"
"Wot!"
"Keep your chin up, being distracted could cost you your life."
"I'm tired!"
"We've hardly progressed." Murmured her father, rubbing a hand along his face.
"On the contrary, sir, I think she's done quite well - for her age."
"She can hardly lift a bucket of water, Maveus."
"She is only five, sir. They haven't fully developed... anything, and tend to get tired easily."
"Do they?" Asked the older man, genuinely considering her age for the first time. "Alright, then, we shall call it a day. But although your body may be resting, your mind should still be at work. Send one of the maids in to have her read, or something of that nature."
"Yes, sir."
"Oh, and Maevus," He patted the child on the head with minor affection, before retreating from the courtyard. "Do keep her head out of the clouds with that apothecary nonsense, I don't want her wasting her life trying to find a use for the cannabis plant."
His leading knight refrained from expressing any sort of conflicting opinion, and instead nodded in response, though he deeply disagreed. "...Yes, sir."
"Maevus," Chimed the small one, who reached up and took his hand clad in leather. "Wots can-a-bus?"
"I hope one day it will be recognized for the valuable gift from our Creator that it is," He told her, the words floating right over her head. She looked at him, puzzled, large eyes waiting for further details, lips parted slightly to reveal a few missing teeth. "It's a magic plant."
"Poppa said deres no such 'fing," She told him with the same expression.
"Did he? Well then he must not know the secret."
"Wot secret?"
"That magic is very, very real."
"Can I have sum?"
"Maybe someday. But that's only if you never tell a soul about it. Otherwise, they'll use it all before you're old enough to."
"Ohh, okay," This seemed to sate her curiosity for the time being.
- - - - - - - -
A woman with pale skin and curled, raven locks climbed into the back entrance of a wagon, leaning against the wooden frame and folding her arms cross her chest. Her bright eyes fell on her daughter, of whom was tucked away amidst stacked crates of odds and ends, almost hidden from view. "What's this about you correcting people when they ask you your name?"
"They keep saying Gisila - "
" - It
is - Gisila. Gisila Kóri of the - "
"Father says
Giselle."
"Well he isn't here, is he?" The woman corrected, a bit firm and a little snide, but not too harsh. "And I told you not to speak of him, here or anywhere. It's not safe for either of us. Can you not enjoy your true heritage? Rothar," She scoffed, slipping her hands into the front of her skirts sewn on pockets, stepping inside and then seating herself on a crate beside the girl. "A bunch of snobbish folk holed up in their big homes, forcing our kind to do their work while they sip on sparkling drinks and eat fresh meats. That's no way to live and your
father is no different. Why would you want to live by the rules of a man who lets slave owners round up our people and sell them for the most coin?" She practically spat at the mentioning of him, her face contorted with bitterness, though she was still a lovely creature.
It was hard, considering such a side to a man that she had spent the first few years of her life with, and they weren't all that bad. In fact she missed them immensely compared to where she was now, everything was poorly done and makeshift, some nights they didn't have food, and her clothing was no longer cleaned and sewn up when it tore for her. Instead she swapped clothes with other girls which seemed to be designed from vegetable sacks, her mother kept repeating words like
humble living and
living frugal but it never seemed to make much a difference in Gisila's discomfort.
"Introduce yourself as Gisila before someone starts asking questions, you'll be glad you did - you're one of us now, we're a family here, not like all those cold maids and knights at the castle."
"Maevus wasn't cold, he was warm," She commented, "I liked my maid... She always brushed my hair before I went to sleep." Flinching as something suddenly flew across the caravan, colliding and shattering with the side of the transport. Her eyes weld with tears as the woman threw something else, emanating frustration.
"Just shut up and do what I told you! I'm doing the best I can, I didn't ask for this life either! He's not in your life or mine, and we can't change that! So get used to it," With a scowl, the woman left the caravan, just as it started to wobble down the rode, the sound of horses hooves against gravel and her sniffling the only remaining sounds of the coming night.
- - - - - - - -
"...Giselle?"
With a gasp, Giselle was snapped out of her recollection, her lungs filling with air for the first time in what seemed like an eternity. Though Maevus' eyes resembled ice, they bore all the warmth in the world, etched with concern as she continued to quietly catch her breath, chest rising and falling beneath her gown. Eyes alert, they flickered to his, "What?"
"I believe that's the longest you've ever gone without breathing." He told her, tightening the back of her tunic which hugged her torso rather tightly. Pressing a hand to her stomach, she squirmed a little, making sure it was secure. "Perhaps you should just stay."
"We've come this far, bought the boots and everything, might as well give it a shot," She messed with her hair, attempting to pull it back, up and tight.
"Well if you tune out like that you might find an axe wedged in your skull," He watched as she broke away from the mirror, leaving her bedroom and starting down the steps. Naturally he kept up, mere paces behind her, and now one step ahead as he placed himself in front of the backdoor, several inches superior to her and nearly as broad shouldered as the doorway itself.
"I want to step outside."
"You've no time, the horses will be here any moment. Unless," He kept his arm stretched across the door, despite her weak attempt to move past it. "Unless you'd like to withdraw. Then we can go waste all the time you'd like."
"Bribery? That's beneath you."
"Not necessarily."
"I thought you wanted me to take chances."
"Like finding a husband, not tossing yourself into an arena with the Creator knows what."
"You taught me how to dance with elves, the weak point of an orc, the Qunari tango - "
" -- Yes and you practiced all of those with
me."
" -- And uncle Borus."
"That hulking lout doesn't count." Finally she pulled away from the door, instead sweeping through the kitchen and wrapping her arms around her torso as she stared out the sun struck window glossed with the morning mist. He met her there shortly, once again leaned against the wall, arms folded this time. "And my sword is still heavy for you."
Her gaze fell, "I don't expect to win. I just want to see him again."
"And if he isn't there?"
"Well..." There was a commotion outside, the nearing of collected hooves beating against a worn bath, whinnies and murmurs as the deliverers beckoned the horses to slow down. "He just has to be."
Maevus broke away for a moment, only to reappear with a possession he valued far more than he let on. A sword of great length and intricate design, with a helm engraved with two glistening sapphires. It seemed to weigh nothing as he held it up, the sunlight gleam riding down the polished blade's surface. But as he slid it into the case hanging from her hip, she teetered to the side, losing her balance for a moment before he helped her steady herself and opened the front door. "Don't stab yourself with it, dove."
"Very funny."
