Author's Note: This is my first ever story. It's a little rough around the edges. Any reviews would be appreciated. Changing Rating to M for future content. Disclaimer: Bioware owns everything.
"ELISSA KATHRYN COUSLAND!"
Elissa winced as her mother's shrill tones bombarded throughout the halls. Elissa had stuffed her nine-year-old self behind a bookcase and prayed to the Maker that her mother wouldn't find her anytime soon. She was hiding. In her opinion, it was the only option since she knew she was in big trouble. She petulantly bit her lip as she thought about the circumstances of her current predicament. It wasn't her fault that there was a candle by her wardrobe. Certainly not her fault that she knocked it over as she danced away from Nan's ministrations. From the sounds of her mother though, she was certain her mother thought it definitely WAS her fault. Her whole wardrobe consumed in one fiery moment. Neither Nan nor Elissa had noticed that the candle fell and started a fire. Not until it was too late. Nan started screaming and ran to get help. Elissa just ran, knowing she was in trouble.
The bookcase moved of its own accord and her father was gazing down at her sternly. Her head down, she looked up at her beloved father, and her lower lip quivered, sticking out just slightly. Tears started to form in the corner of her eyes and her father's face softened.
"Ah, Pup… what am I going to do with you?" He held out his arms and gathered her in them, shushing her quietly. "It's ok sweetheart, but you'll have to make do with boys' clothes until we can get you some new clothes." Elissa mumbled into her father's shirt, her tears soaking his shoulder, "I'm so sorry, Papa." She hiccupped and hugged him tightly. "There, there, Pup. I'll talk to your mother."
Eleanor Cousland was watching the scene from the doorway, her flashing eyes fading and her face softening as she took in the tender moment. A noble was supposed to be graceful, yet her daughter was anything but. Sighing, she said, "Pup, go get cleaned up. Your father and I need to talk."
Elissa had jumped at the sound of her mother's voice. The disappointment was clear, but exasperation was also seeping through. She nodded her head and headed out of the small study, tripping on the rug on her way out.
When she was out of hearing, Eleanor turned to her husband. "Bryce, what are we going to do with her? Nan tells me that she is abysmal at learning what it means to be a lady. She lacks grace and Nan doesn't believe she'll ever find it. She's not interested in any of the womanly arts that most girls her age are." She shook her head in annoyance. "I don't know what to do for her…" she trailed off softly.
"Ellie, she'll find her way. Maybe later than sooner, but she will." His eyes lit up as a thought hit him. "Warrior training! Put her in training with the squires. She'll learn coordination eventually." He put his arms around his wife and hugged her close. "I'm sure she's just a late bloomer, my love. Plus, she'll fit right in now that she has to wear boys' clothes for a little while." He chuckled as his wife's face lit up with a smile in amusement. "Very well, Bryce. But only until she starts to show some coordination!"
Elissa blew a stray hair out of her face as she sparred off against one of her father's men. Unfortunately for her mother, she still lacked coordination and grace which was why she could be found trying vainly, yet again, to learn some in the training yard. The young man took a swing at her, and she tried to dodge it. Her feet were not working with her brain though and she tripped instead of dodging. She flailed madly as her eyes got big and round. His swing happened to miss her because of her erratic movements. Meanwhile, her flailing managed to hit him twice before she ended up on the ground due to poor balance. He was looking at her in disbelief. Chagrined, she looked up at him and tried to stand up by herself. Unfortunately, she tried to use her sword to help herself up and only managed to sink it into the ground a little bit. She tried to tug it up, but it wasn't moving. The young man said, "Here, let me…" and moved forward to help her get it unstuck at the same time that she gave it one last yank. Her sword came up, and her other hand flailed again and smacked him in the jaw. "Oh! I'm so, so sorry," she babbled at him. "I really didn't mean to do that, honest."
"Yes, my lady, I know."
She winced every time one of her father's men called her "my lady." She wasn't even close to being a lady like her mother. She was gangly at 17 when most girls her age were both plump and curvaceous, or if training like her, at least strong and sure of their movements. She had neither.
"I'll just, um, head on out. I think we did enough for today." To which the young man looked extremely grateful. She blushed in embarrassment and mumbled another apology. Her mother and Nan kept trying to get her to stop mumbling, but it really wasn't something she could help. Like a lot of things it seemed.
She sighed again as she looked down at her armor, still wearing leather armor because she was really just too dangerous in anything else. She winced as she imagined that last "shot" with a steel gauntlet on. Much better if she stays away from that.
Ser Gilmore chose that moment to pop his head into the doorway and called, "My lady?" Another wince. "Your father is asking for your presence in the Great Hall."
"All right, all right, I'm on my way," she grumbled. Ser Gilmore was a friend of her brother's and a knight of the castle. He was also very good looking, but her chances of anything more than friendship with him were nonexistent. He knew exactly how much of a klutz she was. And appearing as she was at the moment in all her sweaty glory, after almost knocking out her opponent by accident, which she was sure he saw, she didn't think that was going to change anytime soon.
She dragged herself out of the training yard and headed to the hall. She stopped to sheathe her sword, as she learned from past experiences that it was best not to do that while moving. Once again, as she started to move, her feet had a mind of their own and she knocked over a decorative suit of armor in the hallway. She grimaced and tried to move the pieces into a pile before anyone came by. Unfortunately, armor crashing down onto a stone floor is very, very loud. Two servants came out of the door close by, while no less than three of her father's knights, and to her utter embarrassment, Ser Gilmore, came back to see what the commotion was. Laughing, Ser Gilmore helped her clean up the mess, while the others just rolled their eyes and went back to their duties. "Thank you, Ser Gilmore," she mumbled. The heat in her cheeks was spreading up until she could feel even her forehead burning with shame. He laughed easily, "It's ok, my lady, just try to be more careful." Then he winked at her. Winked at her. Oh, she knew he was just being his easygoing self, but did he have to wink at her? Her heart beat a little faster in her chest. Who was she kidding? She stamped on her feelings because there was no way he returned them. She saw how he looked at one of the servants – a bosomy young woman, completely unlike Elissa who was flat chested, gangly, and only just beginning to show the strength that went along with sword training. She groaned inwardly and was relieved when he said he would finish up so she could go on ahead to her father.
Her hand on the door to the Great Hall, she took a deep breath and ran a hand over her unkempt hair. It was supposed to be back in a knot, but she couldn't get the knack of making it stay put like Nan could. Nan was unavailable this morning though as she was busy in the kitchen making supplies for all the soldiers who would be heading south to fight the darkspawn horde. For a moment, she daydreamed that she would be going with them; that she wasn't uncoordinated and would lead them all to victory! Mentally shaking herself awake, she turned the knob and strode into the hall. Back to reality.
