Random word + random number. At some point I'll have a very random series of oneshot things.
I don't own this fandom, guys.
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9. Hello
Ella sprawled onto her bed. She didn't bother to glance out the window of the attic at the bright sun, or the cheerful meadow that sprawled near the house. Her father was remarrying. For money. The thought frightened her, and she didn't want to do anything except cry.
Still, when she'd been locked into her second floor bedroom for an hour, and managed to look out the window, temptation over-ruled the upset nine-year-old's upset. She slid the window open and climbed out onto the conveniently planted tree. It wasn't too much work for the girl to clamber down to the ground. Her long blonde hair fell down her back, over the boy's clothing she wore. Her father would not approve, but Ella didn't care. She could pass for a boy, as long as some wore their hair.
She whiled away an hour in the orchard, playing with the dog and laughing. So absorbed in her game was she that she failed to notice another enter the clearing until the boy spoke. "Hello," he said, quite pleasantly.
She yelped, tripping over the dog, and landed in the dirt. "Oh, hello! Sorry, you startled me." She smiled at him, and tried to sit up, but the dog had decided her back was a nice spot to view the world form. "Get off, dog."
It gave her a sad, soulful look, but obeyed, and she sat up.
"What were you doing?" the boy asked.
"I was playing with 'im," Ella said, wrapping her arms around the dog's neck. "I haven't seen you before. Are you from the village?"
He blushed. "No. I'm Charles. Who are you?"
"I'm Ella," she said, shrugging. "Whatcha doing here?"
"I got bored and snuck away from a lesson," he said, grinning mischeviously. "It was really boring, and my tutor fell asleep anyhow."
She laughed. "My father teaches me when I ask, but usually he's too busy."
"My father's busy all the time too," he groaned, rolling his eyes.
"Fathers. Honestly," she muttered. "And he's getting re-married too." Her smile changed to a scowl.
"Why would he do that? My father hasn't," he said.
Ella rolled her eyes. "Apparently, I need somebody to teach me how to be a girl or something. It's ridiculous, right? I mean, I am a girl. There's nothing to learn!"
"You're right, that is stupid," Charles said, nodding agreement.
"Being a girl's boring anyhow," she added with a sigh. "Just mindless giggling, 's'far as I can tell, once we get older."
"Tell me about it," he grumbled.
"There should be a law against being stupid," she said, sighing again. "Or re-marrying when you have kids."
"So true," he agreed.
They sat in contemplative silence for a few minutes.
"I should go. I don't want to get anyone into trouble because I snuck out," he said after a minute, and then gave her a rogueish wink. "I'll remember you, Ella."
She grinned. "I'll remember you Charles. Good luck with not getting caught."
They waved as he left, and she spent the remainder of the afternoon in the orchard, wrestling the dog.
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"Prince Charles, you need to practice your artwork," the tutor squawked, looking over a list. "A good prince must..."
"Be graceful, and elegant with pen and sword," Charles recited, rolling his eyes. "I know."
"Well, then, paint something!" the tutor roared.
Charles rolled his eyes and went searching his imagination. Well, there wasn't any reason to not draw Ella. He set out the paints – no son of his father would ever have been coddled – and began to attempt to paint her, the orchard, and her hound.
When he finished, a few weeks later, his tutor had to admit that the prince didn't need much work at his skill, just his material.
Girls in britches were Not Allowed, after all.
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