New World
"Get back here! Give it back!" a boy's voice rang out through the walls of the Thatcher mansion as he chased down a girl with curly, waist length brown hair. He chased her into the kitchen and out into the living room, down into the study and the library.
"You can't catch me, you can't catch me!" She taunted running up a stairway grasping a pouch in her hand followed closely by the brown haired boy. She couldn't have been more than nine and the boy a year older. Glancing behind her she saw that he was catching up and she ran full speed ahead into a room.
"Eliza give it back!" he cried angrily charging ahead, increasing his speed drastically.
"Mother, Mother save me!" the little girl Eliza screamed running past a tall beauty and then sliding behind her hiding in her skirts. Lady Jocelyn Thatcher stared at the seething boy and glanced behind her at the curly brown head buried in her dress. She had long grown accustomed to him and her daughter's rivalries.
"Conor." She tried. Just then Eliza's head peeped out from behind her mother and she stuck her tongue out at him.
"I'm going to rip your hair out!" He screamed as he flew across the room to capture her and was no doubt about to tackle her to the floor when a strong but gentle hand grabbed the back of his shirt and yanked him off of the ground. His eyes widened and he looked up to see his master, Sir William Thatcher staring down at him.
"Conor where are you supposed to be?" he asked firmly.
"In the stables helping Kate." The boy replied timidly.
"And why aren't you there?"
"Because somebody stole my pouch and she won't give me it back. Me mum gave it to me before she left me here. It's all I have sir." He said glowering at Eliza pointedly.
"What did I tell you to do when she does that?"
"But I tried that sir, and it didn't work!" the boy insisted.
"And what makes you think that Eliza has it?"
"Yes what makes you think that?" Eliza asked. William glared at her and she shrank back behind her mother.
"Because you have it in your hand you infuriating hag!" The boy screamed back at her. William glared at her and she shrank back behind her mother. Jocelyn looked on thoroughly amused. Roland and Kate ran into the room heaving. They glared at the two children.
"Is this so Eliza?" William asked glancing at them and then looking at his daughter. The brown eyed beauty scowled and handed him the pouch. The simple material and thick, course, thread made it obvious that a peasant had made it. He lowered the boy to the ground and the hotheaded lad turned and left the room with Kate behind him.
"And where are you supposed to be?" he asked Eliza.
"Doing needle work with Kristine."
"And you're confiscating items which don't belong to you because?"
"It's so boring father! I was beginning to lose feeling in my bum." She protested. And William glared at her. "Well I was." She said defensively.
"Elizabeth-" he tried.
"You should try doing that all day."
"She does have a point there." Jocelyn said smiling.
"You are not helping." William gritted at her and she sat down in a chair grinning and continued her embroidery. Then he turned back to his daughter.
" I want to watch you practice jousting and sword fighting with Roland and Wat."
"Yeah and you also want to go to banquet with your mother and I correct?"
"Yes." She admitted grudgingly.
"And if your going to do so you are going to need to learn how to be a lady."
"But father-"
"And becoming a lady requires learning how to sew. Your mother went through it, her mother went through it, and hell even Roland went through it so go, now."
"But father!" she protested.
"Elizabeth." He said firmly. "Must I tell you again." It wasn't a question and the child knew as much. Pouting adorably she walked out of the room. William looked at his wife and then stared at Roland.
"Hell don't look at me she's your daughter." He said defensively and he exited the room.
"I second that." Jocelyn said and William stared at her in shock.
"What?" he asked.
"Well darling you have to admit, she's as bull headed as you are." She said. William glared at her and then shaking his head he turned and left. Although he didn't want to admit it, Elizabeth was every bit her fathers child.
"What have I done." He murmured under his breath. He had brought her up strangely, trying to balance tournament sports and lady like attributes. But being his daughter she preferred the tournament sports. She had the beauty and grace of her mother but the physical strength and bull headed attitude of her father. Being around Wat had made her argumentative and hotheaded. Conor had been brought to their door when he was only five and instantly he and Eliza had started butting heads. He was an incensed lad, stubborn, driven and freakishly strong for his age with a sharp tongue and a mind of his own. William had agreed to make him a squire but rarely treated him like one. He was more like a son to him, than anything else.
"Confounded nuisance!" he heard Eliza shriek. He sighed and looked up at the heavens. Not already. He thought.
"Conor!" he called as he headed down the hall.
"Get back here! Give it back!" a boy's voice rang out through the walls of the Thatcher mansion as he chased down a girl with curly, waist length brown hair. He chased her into the kitchen and out into the living room, down into the study and the library.
"You can't catch me, you can't catch me!" She taunted running up a stairway grasping a pouch in her hand followed closely by the brown haired boy. She couldn't have been more than nine and the boy a year older. Glancing behind her she saw that he was catching up and she ran full speed ahead into a room.
"Eliza give it back!" he cried angrily charging ahead, increasing his speed drastically.
"Mother, Mother save me!" the little girl Eliza screamed running past a tall beauty and then sliding behind her hiding in her skirts. Lady Jocelyn Thatcher stared at the seething boy and glanced behind her at the curly brown head buried in her dress. She had long grown accustomed to him and her daughter's rivalries.
"Conor." She tried. Just then Eliza's head peeped out from behind her mother and she stuck her tongue out at him.
"I'm going to rip your hair out!" He screamed as he flew across the room to capture her and was no doubt about to tackle her to the floor when a strong but gentle hand grabbed the back of his shirt and yanked him off of the ground. His eyes widened and he looked up to see his master, Sir William Thatcher staring down at him.
"Conor where are you supposed to be?" he asked firmly.
"In the stables helping Kate." The boy replied timidly.
"And why aren't you there?"
"Because somebody stole my pouch and she won't give me it back. Me mum gave it to me before she left me here. It's all I have sir." He said glowering at Eliza pointedly.
"What did I tell you to do when she does that?"
"But I tried that sir, and it didn't work!" the boy insisted.
"And what makes you think that Eliza has it?"
"Yes what makes you think that?" Eliza asked. William glared at her and she shrank back behind her mother.
"Because you have it in your hand you infuriating hag!" The boy screamed back at her. William glared at her and she shrank back behind her mother. Jocelyn looked on thoroughly amused. Roland and Kate ran into the room heaving. They glared at the two children.
"Is this so Eliza?" William asked glancing at them and then looking at his daughter. The brown eyed beauty scowled and handed him the pouch. The simple material and thick, course, thread made it obvious that a peasant had made it. He lowered the boy to the ground and the hotheaded lad turned and left the room with Kate behind him.
"And where are you supposed to be?" he asked Eliza.
"Doing needle work with Kristine."
"And you're confiscating items which don't belong to you because?"
"It's so boring father! I was beginning to lose feeling in my bum." She protested. And William glared at her. "Well I was." She said defensively.
"Elizabeth-" he tried.
"You should try doing that all day."
"She does have a point there." Jocelyn said smiling.
"You are not helping." William gritted at her and she sat down in a chair grinning and continued her embroidery. Then he turned back to his daughter.
" I want to watch you practice jousting and sword fighting with Roland and Wat."
"Yeah and you also want to go to banquet with your mother and I correct?"
"Yes." She admitted grudgingly.
"And if your going to do so you are going to need to learn how to be a lady."
"But father-"
"And becoming a lady requires learning how to sew. Your mother went through it, her mother went through it, and hell even Roland went through it so go, now."
"But father!" she protested.
"Elizabeth." He said firmly. "Must I tell you again." It wasn't a question and the child knew as much. Pouting adorably she walked out of the room. William looked at his wife and then stared at Roland.
"Hell don't look at me she's your daughter." He said defensively and he exited the room.
"I second that." Jocelyn said and William stared at her in shock.
"What?" he asked.
"Well darling you have to admit, she's as bull headed as you are." She said. William glared at her and then shaking his head he turned and left. Although he didn't want to admit it, Elizabeth was every bit her fathers child.
"What have I done." He murmured under his breath. He had brought her up strangely, trying to balance tournament sports and lady like attributes. But being his daughter she preferred the tournament sports. She had the beauty and grace of her mother but the physical strength and bull headed attitude of her father. Being around Wat had made her argumentative and hotheaded. Conor had been brought to their door when he was only five and instantly he and Eliza had started butting heads. He was an incensed lad, stubborn, driven and freakishly strong for his age with a sharp tongue and a mind of his own. William had agreed to make him a squire but rarely treated him like one. He was more like a son to him, than anything else.
"Confounded nuisance!" he heard Eliza shriek. He sighed and looked up at the heavens. Not already. He thought.
"Conor!" he called as he headed down the hall.