"You're acting like a child," Elissa chided herself from her position in the tree, well hidden from prying eyes and well aware of the sound of her name being called. She felt a little guilty as for the second time she heard Fergus call her name, and she again reread the same page she had just finished. Probably holding him up from his own fun, she frowned. She didn't particularly want to be a pain, she had long outgrown taking delight in tormenting her brother.
Well almost, she thought with a smirk. Sometimes a prank was too good to pass up, and how else will her brother know she loves him if she didn't occasionally hide alfalfa chews in his back pocket so his horse will give him a gentle nip on the rear?
No. It was not her intention to be a spoiled brat this time. She should thank her brother. His offer to entertain for the night at the Laurel and Wreath pub, would relieve her of the burden of most, but not all of the potential suitors and "well wishers" who had showed up for her coming out party a few days early.
He enjoyed being a father and husband, that much was clear, but this was the first time in a while so many of his friends were in Highever at once and he was looking forward to the night away, to engage in loud conversation and the occasional off color joke.
She was jealous, she and Fergus's personality were so close to each other, naturally honest, teasing and amiable, except when the family honor was contested in which case they could be as prickly as anyone, and yet she had to temper her words in order to protect her chaste reputation and femininity she had barely noticed had begun to emerge. What was once impertinent and playful teasing from Bryce's Little Spitfire, was now being construed as flirting and genuine affection. So she held her tongue and kept her humor to herself, probably looking a fool as she occasionally smiled at the unspoken jokes in her own head.
Worse, it did not stop with the words she used or did not use, her body betrayed her in ways she didn't think of. What was once a lithe frame of knees and elbows, was now curvy and strong. Heedless of the fact she was now a woman, she instead delighted in the revelation that she now filled out her mothers old form fitting leather armor perfectly, completely unaware of the glances that were now being shot her way as she adjusted her chassis. Squires, who used to help her train, now reacted with embarrassment when she performed her favorite scrapper move. Sweep the legs out from under them and straddle the poor boys waist with a knife to the throat, what used to seem impressive and threatening, was now tawdry and inappropriate. So playful sparring was now replaced in favor of a more formal spar.
Though that was not at terrible as it seems she will admit, what she had in enthusiasm to training she lacked in discipline of technique. And in the past year, she had noticed when she wasn't bouncing around foolishly wasting energy in a match she was enjoying for the fun, she was improving as a warrior. She won more fights, and she took less hits. Perhaps, change is not as horrible as it seems. Though to her annoyance she had to do her flexible and methodical stretching in a private area, even Ser Gilmore her closest friend would flush and awkwardly look upwards as if there was something in the sky in dire need of his attention. But no small loss, she didn't want that kind of attention, not yet anyway. Though womanhood was growing on her, she found herself enjoying dressing up on occasion, and wearing a hint of color on her face to highlight her eyes. No powder though, to her mothers chagrin, she didn't want to hide her delicate freckles. They were the last vestiges of the young child she used to be. She wasn't opposed to growing up, and courting, she just wanted to do so in her own due time. And especially not with such a official occasion as an "Coming Out party", that felt akin to the horn at the start of a fox hunt.
But every warrior must have discipline, and every child must grow up sometime she mused, as she began to gather her dress and book for the descent down the tree. Her mother, Nan and Oriana are waiting for her and she must be off. She paused when she heard Thomas Howe's obnoxious laugh in the distance.
Ugh, she groaned. As disconcerting as it was to be followed by young men who suddenly found her pleasing to look at, it was worse with Thomas. He was 2 years her junior, and Arl Howe in his unsubtle way would often mention how their personalities seemed to match the other. Though she would have to disagree, while both could delight in jovial atmospheres and provide charismatic company, she could do so without being inebriated and throwing up on some poor persons shoes. Plus he was surly and impatient when he was not drinking, though few people would notice, since few people are as close to the Howes as the Couslands.
Though if Thomas has arrived, that means Delilah was here so she would have some fun this weekend. Delilah was quiet and demure in her father's presence, but Elissa had a knack for making the girl come out of her shell. It was like a game to make the perfect and prim noble girl let out a laugh at the dinner table so loud she would blush and hide behind her hands, apologizing profusely as her father glowered.
She began to climb down, with book in hand when she stopped with a start. A young man with long dark hair was below, leaning casually against the tree. His face obscured by the angle and the branches. How long have you been there? She wondered, usually she could sense others presence, either she was losing her touch or he was just very quiet. Either way, she couldn't crawl out of the tree now, covered in sap and twigs in her hair with one of her potential suitors below, she wasn't interested in relationships or marriage at the moment, but she certainly didn't want to ruin her future with the stories of the great bird girl Elissa Cousland, who at the age of sixteen was still hiding from her Nanny and climbing trees like a wilder folk.
Her options were this. Either wait, or trick him and sneak away. The prospect of the challenge stirred her mischievous side. She grabbed a heavy pinecone from the branch and tossed it with her usual accuracy towards a water barrel where it bounced loudly off the wooden wall of the smokehouse and landed in the water with a satisfying plunk. With a triumphant smile, she looked down expecting him to investigate the unusual noise, but instead he stared resolutely forward though she swore his cheeks were more pronounced as if he was smiling. Sod it, she cursed as she tried to sit on the branch she had climbed down to, but it was awkward compared to her usual one and losing her balance she dropped her book and it sailed to the ground, landing with a soft thud next to the man.
She watched in embarrassment as he picked it up, flipping to the center as if he was more interested in the words then the fact the tree was having a fruitful harvest of literature. He made no motion to look up, but she spied his smile as he made a smooth turn on his heel and leaned against the tree again. There was something familiar about him, though she couldn't place from where.
But that hardly matters, she thought with a frown. He knows I'm here and I am looking the fool. Shrugging she decided she could go with the prim and proper noble girl she should be trying to be this weekend, or she can be herself which was much easier to do, especially since it had to be done whilst climbing out of a tree.
"Little help?", she called casually from her place in the tree. "I seemed to have dropped my book."
"Seems you have." His voice deep, but full of amusement. "I'd expect you to be reading those silly romance novels the young women are so fond of, not philosophy."
"And why is that?" She was annoyed by that assertion, but then she could hardly play proud as she detangled the last of her skirts from the branch and jumped to land deftly on her feet. Thank goodness I am wearing my boots she though as she smoothed her skirts.
"Because Smelly Ellie, Gibran is such heavy reading for the hyper child I remember".
Smelly Ellie?Nate? Elissa straightened and turned to face the boy, no young man, she corrected herself, That was Nathaniel Howe.
"Nate, it has been forever! How are the free marches, any adventures?" She hurriedly asked as she threw her arms around him in a big hug. It had been seven years in fact. She was nine when she last saw him and he 14. He was always closer to Fergus then her, but he always regarded her with a gentle and patient countenance, like a brother almost. Though that familiarity didn't carry over the years, he pulled from the hug rather quickly, almost awkwardly, to put a distance between them and gave a formal bow of his head.
Ah, yes. Hugs are for family, hounds and children. Anything else is improper. She scoffed and rolled her eyes in a very unladylike manner at the thought. Then catching herself, she looked back at him and gave an apologetic smile. His eyes were grey as she remembered, though they danced with intelligence and hidden thoughts. Nate wasn't much of a talker, one had to watch his eyes or minute facial expression to discern his thoughts. Though the look in his eyes at the moment were new to her, and distracting.
"Must you call me that nickname? I am hardly Smelly Ellie anymore." She feigned annoyance with a narrowing of her eyes and hands on her hips, but the twitch at the corner of her mouth would give away her mirth to someone who would know to look.
"I assumed you wouldn't mind, since you have taken to hiding in the same tree you hid in as a child." Nathaniel said with a small smile looking up at the tree. "I never told Fergus of your hiding spot, and it seems he still doesn't know. He was looking for you by the way." Nathaniel stated as he offered his arm.
"Was?," Elissa asked, looping her arm through his. She never understood the concept, it made it awkward to walk, especially since Nathaniel was so much taller then her. Extremely tall she marveled and his shoulders were so much wider then she remembered. Time has changed him greatly since she last saw him. What used to be a few sparse hairs worn proudly on his chin and upper lip, was replaced by a carefully groomed and full soul patch. He grew into his nose too, she thought, studying him. Yes his face was much more balanced now. He is quite handsome even, not by court standards but his face had the kind of character she would find attractive… If she thought of boys that way, face flushing as she realized her train of thought.
"Elissa?" Nathaniel stopped and gave her a gentle jostle.
"What?" Oh maker was I in my head that entire time?
"I said you brother has been given leave to head out to the pub with a group of your admirers. I am to join them after."
"Admirers? Of, what? They don't know me, if they did they would certainly forget the title I have to offer and run for the hills if they were smart."
"That so?" Nathaniel looked down at her and continued their previous pace. "Still a spitfire then, I suppose?"
"Maker yes. I am quite unpleasant. Which is why I hide, to spare them the displeasure of my company. The whole posturing of a courting male is like a peacock, flitting about. At the worst of times my reaction is irritable frustration with their lack of authenticity, at the best of times I find it so absurd I just might laugh in their faces." She looked to his face to see if she had offended or amused him, and was happy to see he was entertained by the imagery. "Which is of course unfair to the poor things. They are merely performing the dance every person wants and desires to do in some manner, they are just unlucky to be performing for a peahen that has little interest in what they offer, while other congenial girls are busily building nests, I aspire to fix my weak defense on my left side when I dual wield."
"Your analogy fell apart." Nathaniel chuckled.
"I got bored with it." She admitted. "So really I am performing a public service. I am impatient, quick to tease, and not at all as glamorous and graceful as other noble girls. It would be wise if they learned to leave me alone."
"Well don't hide then. Familiarity breeds contempt and all that". Nathaniel offered with another wry smile and she noticed how his cheek would dimple on only the one side. He offered her book back and she took it almost shyly.
"One can only hope." Elissa noticed they had stopped in front of the castle doors. Had they really walked all this way in such a short time?
"But then, few men know you as well as I do and in my personal opinion you may be doomed to be admired." With that, he gave a quick bow, loudly knocked three times on the door and had disappeared swiftly down the lane to the stables while Elissa stood wide-eyed in spot, processing what he said. Her stupor was broken, when she realized the insidious trap he had laid with his knock. Fleeing was out of the question as Nan and her mother burst through the door and with hurried shoves, She was quickly ushered inside to be poked, prodded, painted, nagged and corseted barely in time for dinner with her guests and their family's.