Disclaimer: We own nothing.
A/N Tinuviel Undomiel: This chapter is where break free of the normal and have you raising your eyebrows in surprise. Remember, we did say this would be naughty. Some cute stuff in here, no real romance yet however.
A/N Nerwen Aldarion: hey guys, here is the first chapter and sets the story. Next chapter is when the real adventure begins and we really get to meet the boys.
Chapter 1: Ruined in Every Sense of the Word
Nothing of importance happened to Elizabeth until ten years later, not that nothing important happened, just nothing that plays an effect on the story. She grew up, worked until dusk and slaved away for her stepfamily. Now she is eighteen and a woman, a beautiful woman at that, her childhood scrawniness melted away, her eyes became a startling emerald green, and her hair became a mess of soft unruly brown curls. Many boys in the village had crushes on her but none suited her fancy. Besides she was much to busy to daydream about handsome men, the only future she saw was servitude for her stepmother. But I'm rambling and should get back to the story because I can see that you are rolling your eyes and muttering under your breath, if you don't want to listen to this story then leave, but as long as you are here listen up and stop complaining. Now where was I?
Oh yes, it wasn't until ten years later that an event occurred that marked the beginning of a change in Elizabeth's life, the remarkable thing is that it didn't involve her at all…
It was near midnight at the manor when the carriage that contained Elizabeth's stepfamily came charging through the gates. "What are they doing back?" Andra asked aloud as they both rushed to the door.
"I don't know," Elizabeth replied, "they were supposed to stay at court, and the tournament welcoming home the prince isn't for another month."
You might be wondering why the prince even left Carida. Well Naldar borders Carida and the royal families from both kingdoms have a long standing alliance, and part of the alliance includes that the heirs to the thrones spend time in each other's kingdom to learn their ways and get to know their allies. Prince John is just about to return from such a time and the tournament was to welcome him home. Anyways back to the story.
A short time later Rodmilla, Joceline, Teyla and Marta came charging through the door.
"I want to know what you did!" Teyla shouted at her sister.
"What makes you think I did anything?" Joceline asked thoroughly bored with the conversation.
"Because you are you!"
"Teyla let it go," Rodmilla told her youngest daughter, "You have been accusing Joceline since we left court." She took off her gloves and handed them to Elizabeth, "Lord Dex didn't want you so there is no point in arguing about it anymore."
"Yes he did!" Teyla yelled, "He did and he told me so until he made that horrid announcement that I know you," she pointed at Joceline, "had something to do with!"
"I didn't do anything Teyla," Joceline said her voice coated with fake sweetness, "you only have yourself to blame."
"I didn't do anything," Teyla turned back to her mother, "I'm surprised you aren't upset about this mother, her actions have ruined both of us and forced us to leave immediately."
Joceline scoffed, "I'm not ruined, I'm the sweet, innocent sister, you're the one who got into trouble and got Lord Dex so angry."
Elizabeth looked at Andra, "Innocent and sweet? When did those words fit Joceline?" she whispered.
"You had something to do with it," Teyla repeated, "he would never have said those things otherwise, he loved me!"
Joceline laughed, "Obviously not."
That made Teyla snapped, she marched forward, reared back and punched her sister right in the eye. With a shriek Joceline fell the ground and immediately began to cry. Teyla certainly would have hit her sister again if Marta hadn't stopped her.
"Really Teyla that wasn't ladylike!" Rodmilla admonished her while she comforted her eldest daughter.
"That thing isn't a lady, she's a monster!" Teyla said, "She ruined my life, she ruined everything!" And with a sob Teyla raced up the stairs to her room.
Rodmilla shook her head and took Joceline to her own room, barking at Elizabeth to bring some ice quickly.
But Elizabeth wasn't about to go anywhere until she learned what had happened. As soon as her stepevils left Andra and Elizabeth turned to Marta, anxious looks on their faces, "Alright what happened that caused the most wonderful memory I have of Joceline?" Elizabeth asked.
Marta glanced down the hallway her mistresses had disappeared down before leaning in close to tell them, "Not long after we arrived at court Teyla caught the eye of Lord Ronon Dex, the Lord of Windhurst, I've never seen anything like it! He was obviously in love with her and searched her out at every opportunity and it was love at first sight for Teyla, I mean the two became completely inseparable, much to the dismay of Mistress Rodmilla and Joceline. You know they have wanted Teyla to marry Crius Donar since he is good friends with the king."
Andra nodded, "Of course, they'll do anything they can to get Joceline to weasel her way to the Prince's side."
Marta continued, "Well I don't know what happened but I do know that today during the evening meal Lord Dex stood up to make an announcement. Everyone thought for certain he was going to announce his betrothal to Teyla, instead he told everyone there that she was a wh…" Marta paused and glanced at Elizabeth, "…an immoral woman, that she had been with other men and he would never in a thousand lifetimes consider marrying her."
"Are you serious?!" Elizabeth exclaimed.
Marta nodded, "We had to leave immediately and Teyla is convinced that her family had something to do with it.
"I don't believe it!" Elizabeth said happily, "finally one of my horrible stepsisters got what they deserved."
"Really Elizabeth," Andra asked her, "do you really think that Teyla deserved that?"
"In my opinion…yes," Elizabeth stated firmly.
"Then perhaps your anger is blinding you," Andra told her, Rodmilla called out for Elizabeth to bring the ice and Elizabeth rushed to fulfill her request. Andra watched Elizabeth leave, "I just hope you open your eyes soon."
We are skipping another month now. Oh don't give me that look, fairy tales have skipped hundreds of years, don't begrudge me a measly four weeks.
We are leaving Teyla's story behind for a bit, but don't you worry she will step back in soon enough. Perhaps you are wondering if Elizabeth ever has any moments of joy in her state of servitude. Yes, but they are few and far between. Here is one such moment when her stepmother is off of her back and she can be herself for short a while.
The manor was gloomy now that the Baroness and her daughters had been banished for a short time. Joceline was quickly bored and was anxious to return to court at the earliest possible moment. Teyla stayed tucked up in her room most of the time, only coming out when her mother forced her to.
It was the day of the tournament in celebration of the prince's homecoming. Every nobleman in the kingdom was to be there to cheer on the return of Carida's son. It was also the opportune time to show off their daughters to the future king, who had yet to choose a bride.
The capital city, Tirsa, was only a four hour carriage ride away from the manor. Since there were to be many people coming far and wide to welcome the prince, Andra and Elizabeth set out for the capital bringing with them vegetables and other goods grown from the manor.
Tirsa was filled with madness upon their arrival. Vendors shouted out their wares to passerby, jugglers and fire eaters showed off their tricks to the crowd. Elizabeth sat beside Andra on their rickety cart and smiled at the myriad of people.
They stopped their cart and paid two men to assist them in setting up their booth. Once the stall was complete, Elizabeth began to help Andra group their goods for sale. It was a simple job, but her eyes were drawn to the stone walls and the flag tipped towers that they guarded.
Three tomatoes rolled off of the stand and plopped onto the dirt. "Oh dear," Elizabeth said and bent down to retrieve the bruised vegetables.
"I'm sorry, Andra," she said.
"Don't distress yourself," Andra replied and smiled when she saw that Elizabeth was again staring at the wall. "Go have your fun, love."
"Oh no, I couldn't," she protested.
"Nonsense, you'll ruin more vegetables if you stay. I can handle the stall." Andra pushed her towards the crowd, "Go on."
Elizabeth laughed and gave her a hug, "Thank you."
"Be back before sunset," Andra called out to her before returning to her wares.
Elizabeth followed the current of people at a lazy pace. She had been to Tirsa many times before and she was always awed by its beauty and culture. Several dealers smiled at her and held up trinkets.
"My lady, I have a fine prize for you…"
"Would you like a brooch miss? Solid gold…"
"Finest Ralutian silk, worthy of a beauty like you…"
Elizabeth waved off their advances until she came to one particular merchant. He was a middle age man that moved the grace of men twice as young. His skin was as white as fresh cotton and he has long, pale yellow hair that hung down his back. Two pointy ear tips stuck out through his hair. When he saw her, his clear blue eyes brightened as he smiled.
"Hello, Elizabeth," he said.
"Hello, Nendir," she replied and pretended to pick through his wares.
The Elf pulled out a wooden box an opened it. Lying on a velvet nest was a silver necklace with a large emerald on the end. A host of diamonds circled the stone and silver leaves decorated the chain.
"It's gorgeous," she gasped.
"I thought you would like it," he said with a smile.
"You know I always love your work."
"Yes, you have the same eye for beauty like your father," Nendir said as he closed the box. "If it hadn't been for him, I would still be working in a shop, scraping up a measly existence."
Elizabeth stroked the sky blue velvet of a dress he had hung for sale. The mention of her father never failed to fill her with sadness.
"That would look lovely on you."
She turned and gave him a smile, "Yes, especially with my imaginary tiara and diamond ring."
Nendir laughed at her teasing words. "In all honesty, you would look more radiant in it than the duchess I made it for."
She gave the cloth one final stroke before turning back to him. "When I am a duchess, I'll buy a gown from you."
He smiled and nodded, "We have a deal."
The smile was returned to him but she knew their plan wasn't serious. Perhaps she would work for a duchess one day, but she could never afford even the smallest earring Nendir had for sale.
Horns and trumpets sounded from behind the wall and Elizabeth looked up to where the music came from. Cheers erupted from the crowd as the tournament began.
"I'll give you a leg up," Nendir said and cupped his hands together.
Elizabeth placed her foot in the bowl of his hands and he boosted her onto the roof of his stall. From there, she carefully hefted herself so her abdomen lay on the top of the stone wall. She swung her legs over until her body was free from of the stall. At last she was able to sit down and enjoy the tournament.
The crowd continued to applaud as the knights rode in on their proud steeds. Their armor glistened in the hot sun, blinding Elizabeth but she didn't care. Here was her spot of glory. On top of this wall, she was no longer a servant or an orphan. She was like a bird, free to go where ever she wanted and able to see the most beautiful sights.
The knights assembled themselves with their squires and hands. One by one they were called out by name, each one was followed by thunderous applause. After the last knight was announced, more trumpets sounded and she turned her head towards the pavilion. Underneath the blessed shade were two wooden thrones with purple velvet cushions to add more comfort. The crowd stood and faced those chairs. A man and a woman walked up to the canopy and stood before the crowd. With a gesture of their hands they smiled and bid the crowd to sit before they gathered their robes and also took their seats.
King Hector and Queen Sari were wonderful rulers. Elizabeth had never been concerned with them as a child but growing up as a servant showed her how spoiled the nobles were. However, she had seen the efforts Carida's monarchs had made to help the lower class and she was proud of their rulings.
Another man dressed in burnished armor appeared at the entrance leading to the arena. Elizabeth felt her heart race as she sat up straighter to get a better look at this anticipated rider.
The crowd leapt to their feet and cheered even louder than before. All the knights stood in attendance as the trumpets sounded once again. The armored man rode forward and waved to the throng of people. While they clapped and stomped their feet in excitement, he stopped in front of the pavilion and removed his helmet.
Even from far up on the wall, Elizabeth could hear the delighted sighs of the women close enough to see his face. It was impossible to hear what he said to the king and queen, but they beamed with approval and he rode on to his station.
The knights jousted for the sport of the crowd and Elizabeth enjoyed the scene. However, her focus was not so much on the joust, but on the prince.
This was the first time she had ever seen him in armor. Before when Tirsa had held festivals and other grand events, Prince John had sat with his parents and watched the proceedings. Of course this was her third time seeing him so perhaps this wasn't too surprising to most.
She was a good distance away, but Elizabeth could see how handsome he was. He had dark hair that spiked in an unusual, but appealing, fashion. His skin was bronze and, though it was impossible to see under the armor, word on the street said that he had a well built body.
His reputation also spoke of an amorous manner. Many called him Prince Charming because he easily succeeded in all of his conquest on women. Joceline spoke of his rakish ways often. Whenever she was in attendance at the same event he was, she took meticulous care in her appearance so she was as radiant—and provocative—as possible. Unfortunately, her measures never succeeded which always left Joceline in a temper. At those times Elizabeth wished the prince would notice the brat so she could stop picking up broken mirrors and mending torn dresses.
She always regretted those wishes. No man deserved Joceline, not even a criminal. Watching the prince like this was one of her few joys. This was the main reason for why she loved Tirsa so much. Here she could pretend she was sitting with the nobles dressed in silk in lace. On this sacred spot, she could imagine that she was the prince's love.
In her dreams he wore armor like he did now and came before her with his lance forward. She would tie her scarf to the tip as a token of her affection. After the jousting was over, he would gather her in his arms and carry her off to their own secret place. And then…
The dream ended. It was always lovely at first, but she could never imagine what the prince would do with her. A princess from some far of kingdom would live her fantasy. Elizabeth would be lucky if she married the chimney sweep.
Still, here her troubles melted away and she could stop carrying the burden of a much older woman. She could be her own age again and pretend like she actually belonged here. Only in Tirsa did she have the time dream about a man.
Near the end of the first half, Elizabeth noticed the prince checking over his horse before finally climbing on. One of his squires brought forth a lance and handed it to him. She gasped and brought her hands to her lips in surprise. The prince was going to joust!
The announcer stood on his platform again and Elizabeth strained to hear his words. "If any knight is willing, the prince urges you to joust with him."
A murmur wafted through the crowd. What knight would take the risk of injuring the prince?
From the wall, she saw many knights shake their heads. Apparently not one wished to joust with their liege.
Gasps erupted through the air as one man nudged his horse forward. Some people cheered, others protested, but the prince merely smiled.
Both readied their mounts and waited for the flags to be raised. Elizabeth clenched her fist so hard her nails bit into her palms. She nearly closed her eyes but she couldn't bear to turn away.
One quick motion from the flags sent the horses rearing towards one another. The prince and lord lowered their lances as the distance between them closed in. Everyone held their breaths as wood struck steal. Both men were pushed backwards towards their horse's rumps. They each managed to recover from the blows and stayed saddled.
A sigh of relief reached Elizabeth's ears and she also released the breath she had been holding.
The prince and his fellow rider returned to their aids. Each man had been given a point for hitting their mark accurately. Two more rounds to go.
They each accepted another lance and waited for the signal to charge. Elizabeth swallowed hard as the flag was raised but managed to keep her composure. They hit their mark again but still neither fell. It was now the final round which hit the views with both eagerness and dread.
Tension made the air as thick as clotted cream. From up on the wall, it looked like both men were moving in slow motion. With each pound of the horses' hooves, her heart skipped a beat. Wood cracked; a sound that seemed painful to her ears. One rider slipped free from his saddle and landed in the hoof-beaten mud. The prince.
For a moment sound didn't exist. Every eye was on the fallen prince. Even the lord wordlessly removed his helmet and stared at his victim in shock. Elizabeth bit her lip and tasted the sweet and salty flavor of blood.
The prince finally moved but no one cheered in relief. Assaulting royalty was a treasonous offense. If he wanted to, the prince could have the lord killed.
His armor now covered in mud, the prince walked towards the lord. He climbed down from his horse at the same time the prince removed his helmet. A pregnant pause stretched between them before finally the prince made a surprising motion.
He smiled.
The prince shook his opponents hand and the crowd erupted with applause. Even Elizabeth stood on her precarious position and clapped in good nature of the apprehensive joust.
Tirsa was buzzing with the news of the joust that by the time Elizabeth climbed down from the wall, Nendir had already heard the story from three different sources.
"Had a bit of show, I hear," he said as he helped her down from the roof of his stall.
"It was the most exciting thing I've ever seen," she replied.
"Some have called the lord a fool for accepting the prince's challenge," Nendir informed her as he set out more jewelry displays.
"It was risky," she agreed as she lent him a hand, "but the prince seemed pleased."
Nendir smiled as his eyes caught two approaching figures. "I'll say, isn't that the prince?"
Elizabeth's eyes followed the direction his finger pointed. Just as he had said, the prince was walking towards Nendir's stall. Luckily, he was busy talking to the lord he jousted so they had yet to notice her. She raced into Nendir's cart and peeked out behind the velvet skirt of a gown.
"…the only good thing about Naldarian court was all the women," Prince John said as they reached Nendir.
"Greetings, your highness," Nendir said with a bow, "Might I show you my wares?"
"Yes, please," the prince replied.
This was the closest she had ever been to the prince and now she could see why women easily fell sway to his charms. His dark brown hair made her fingers ache to thread through it. His lips were perfectly formed and left a sensual spell over her. She now could see that the rumors were true, he did have a body of a god.
"What are you looking for in particular?" Nendir asked.
"A present for a woman."
The spell was broken and she felt her heart ache a little. She gave herself a mental slap on the cheek. Of course he would have a mistress, this was Prince Charming. Word said he had a string of women in Tirsa alone. She remembered hearing about a countess who broke into his private chambers and begged at his feet for him to show her favor again after he had found yet another eager victim.
"What about you, Ronon?" the prince asked, "Nendir's jewels guarantee no talk of commitment for a week."
"No thanks," Ronon replied in a somber tone.
Elizabeth viewed that he was handsome as well with long, brown hair and naturally dark skin. His body was much larger than the prince's, but he had a much more intimidating presence that would shy people away.
What interested her most was how familiar his name was. She pondered over it for several moments before giving up.
"Right, I heard about what happened," the prince said before handing Nendir a small bag of coins. "I'm sorry."
"It's alright, I'm fine, your highness."
The prince smiled and shook his head, "How many times do I have to tell you, friends call me John."
Prince John and Lord Ronon left Nendir then and everyone on the street watched them go. Elizabeth waited until they were swallowed up by the crowd before coming out of the cart.
"Your golden opportunity to meet the prince finally arrives and you duck down like a frightened child," Nendir said with a chuckle.
"I don't think the prince would see it as a golden opportunity," she replied.
"He wouldn't care, he probably wouldn't even…"
"Notice me," she finished for him, "Yes, I know. That is why I hid." Elizabeth stared at the crowd that the prince had disappeared into with a wistful gaze. "It's better to keep it as a fantasy."
"That's all you'll have if you don't step up," he advised.
"Nendir, look at me," she said and spread her tattered skirts wide, "Is this a satin gown sprinkled with sapphires?" She held out her hands for his inspection. "Are my hands soft like a dove's breast?" Elizabeth clutched her brown curls with her fingers. "Do I have perfumed oil in my hair that smells like roses and ambrosia?" She sighed and shook her head, "No, I don't because I'm not a princess. There is nothing to step up to."
She curled her lips in a small, sad smile before saying, "Andra is waiting for me; I better go."
"Come see me when you return to Tirsa," he told her before kissing her cheek.
"I promise," she swore and gave him a hug before racing into the throng of people.
Andra was haggling with a man over a bag of apples when Elizabeth arrived. The cook gave her a smile before returning to her stern look to argue with the customer. At last the man conceded and paid the price Andra had asked.
"I suppose it's time for us to leave now if we want to make it home before dark," Andra said.
"Yes, I'm sure my stepmother will be anxious for her dinner," Elizabeth agreed.
"That is true," she concurred. Andra began to scoop left over vegetables into a bag. "I heard about the joust. It must have been quite a scene."
"Yes it was," Elizabeth said as she loaded bags onto the wagon, "I was so scared that he would be hurt, but it all turned out alright."
"I'm sure the prince is of hardy stock," Andra assured her.
"He is very well built," she said absently and then winced once she realized what she had confessed.
Andra wasn't unperceptive and she couldn't help but smile. "Oh and how would you know that?"
Elizabeth turned around to face her with pink stained cheeks. "He came by to Nendir's stand after the tournament."
"So you finally met your prince," Andra said.
"Not exactly, he didn't see me because I hid."
"Why would you do that?"
"Because I know he wouldn't care," Elizabeth explained and began to stuff squash into a bag, "I told this to Nendir that I'm not a noble or anything of value. The most I could ever be to the prince is a maid." She continued to toss the squash into the bag with a vengeance.
"Ella," Andra pulled the bag away from her and grabbed both of her hands, "I know you wish you could have the life your father had planned for you. This infatuation for the prince must not be easy."
"Andra, I don't care about the prince," she inserted.
The cook smiled a little and shook her head while tucking on of Elizabeth's curls behind her ears. "Why do you strive so hard to see him then?"
She sighed, "Okay, I know I'm a bit infatuated with him but I know better than to mistake it for anything else." She placed both of her hands on the table and stared at the dirty wood. "In fact, I don't think I'll look for the prince anymore."
"Ella…"
"No," she interrupted, "I need to stop these foolish fantasies. It just reminds me that I'm a servant and nothing more."
Andra sighed and forced her to meet her eyes, "Love, I hate that this life has been forced on you. I've always wanted to do more to help you, but I can't. Seeing your face when we come here is the brightest spot in my life because I know this is where you are happy."
"Andra, I can't keep fooling myself. He's probably a spoiled, arrogant man who cares for no one but himself."
"Yes, that is possible," she admitted, "but you will never know for sure. Ignorance is blissful sometimes, and this is one of those times."
Elizabeth dropped her eyes for a few moments in pondering. When she met her gaze again, a small smile curved on her lips. "You're right, I deserve a few moments of happiness."
Andra matched her smile and pressed a kiss to her forehead. "Now let's pack up and go home."
Weir Manor was not in prime shape. Age and neglect and turned this proud fortress into a withering stone edifice. Elizabeth stared sadly at her home as the wagon rolled up to and remembered how lovely it had once been.
Ethan walked up to them at a slow pace. His arthritis pained him throughout the day and Andra saw his sluggish movements.
"I'll mix a poultice as soon as we unload this cart."
"The baroness wants you to fix dinner immediately," he informed them, "She told me to unload the wagon."
She sighed and laid the reins down on the seat of the wagon. "Alright," she turned to Elizabeth and said, "It's time to face the ogre."
Rodmilla was waiting for them with Joceline in the sitting room. Both of them set down their needlepoint and stood up when they entered.
"How did you do at the market?" the baroness asked.
Andra shook her head. "Not so well, my lady, our vegetables just aren't rich enough to meet standards."
"Well you'll have to work harder then for next harvest," Rodmilla said tightly.
"Yes ma'am," she murmured.
"Now, Elizabeth, is there any news from Tirsa?" Rodmilla asked as she took her seat once again.
"Not much, my lady," she said, "I did hear that the prince jousted in the tournament."
Joceline stopped midway through her embroidery and leapt to her feet. "What happened? Tell me everything."
"I can't say much because I didn't witness it," Elizabeth said, "All I know is that he challenged the knights and one accepted. I also heard he was unhorsed, but congratulated the lord for his victory."
"Hmm, that was noble of him," Rodmilla mused without looking up from her embroidery, "We must tell him that when we meet him again."
"Mistress," Andra stepped in, "I was wondering how Miss Teyla is doing."
"She stays in her room whenever we are about," the baroness said, "She still blames us for Lord Dex's betrayal."
Elizabeth let out a gasp when she heard the name Lord Dex. She remembered how the name Ronon had seemed familiar to her before and now it all came back. It had been Ronon Dex, Lord of Windhurst who had ruined Teyla and it was he who had accepted the prince's challenge.
"What is the matter with you?" Rodmilla demanded.
"I'm sorry, I just recalled something," she explained, "I saw the prince in the market."
"You simpleton! How could you not tell us?!" Joceline inquired in a furious tone.
"I didn't think it was important," Elizabeth said, "I saw him with Lord Dex. He was the lord who accepted the challenge. It looks like they might be…" she hesitated before saying, "friends."
There was a pause that filled every corner of the room before Rodmilla closed her eyes and sighed, "Well, that's that."
"It's ironic," a voice said from behind them. They turned around to see Teyla standing in the doorway. She looked terrible with unkempt hair and dark circles under her eyes.
"If you had just let me be," she continued, "If you hadn't interfered, you would be closer to the prince. Perhaps you would have finally caught his eye," she directed her stony glare to Joceline.
"Now you may have lost your chance," Teyla hammered the end of her truthful statement. Judging by Rodmilla's cold blue eyes she didn't like hearing the possible truth.
Teyla said no more and silently made her way out of the room.
"This doesn't change anything," Rodmilla assured her daughter, and silently herself, "Crius will marry Teyla, and that will bring us closer to the prince and our goal."
"I hope you're right mother," Joceline said, "I can't imagine how much worse things could get."
Ominous words in any story, if you haven't noticed by now from the thousands of stories you have heard that any time someone says things can't get worse they definitely can. What are you grumbling about now? Oh you don't like the prince's name do you? Well I stand by what I said with the name Cinderella, what kind of parents would name their son Charming? Good you are silent again.
What are you complaining about now? You don't think that the prince acts much like the prince in the story you've heard, after all he has a mistress. Well I've got news for you; Princes have mistresses, deal with it. Now will you let me get back to the story or do you want to complain some more?
Elizabeth snuck a look out of the corner of her eye at Joceline and Rodmilla sitting on the lounge. Rodmilla was busy doing embroidery and Joceline was looking at some dress designs, as if they had money to burn.
She looked down at herself, her hands that were holding the scuttle were covered with black soot, so were her clothes and she was certain her face. No she wasn't going to pass for a lady any time soon.
Andra walked into the room and set the tea tray down, she turned to Elizabeth, "Ella would you mind helping me in the kitchen?"
Joceline perked up, "You call her Ella?"
"It is what my father would have called me," Elizabeth explained, "since Ellie is for children."
Joceline sneered, "Ella? You're covered in soot, Cinderella fits you better."
I can think of a few names that suit you more than Joceline Elizabeth thought, but she didn't say a word, just stood up to go and help Andra into the kitchen. But the arrival of Teyla cut short any immediate plans.
I know I'm interrupting but I need to say some important things about Teyla. You may have noticed by now that she isn't as bad like her mother and sister; she just hasn't spoken up about what they do to everyone. She's been under her mother's influence and is almost afraid to go against her, but if you haven't guessed a terrible wrong has happened to her and it has slowly boosted her courage to finally face them.
She knows that what they really want is for her to marry Crius Donar, a man she detests, for the sake of Joceline. Now she knows a bit of information that she is certain will ruin any prospective marriage between her and anyone. All she'd been able to think about all day was seeing their faces when she told them the truth, she played one scenario then the next for what could happen, each one making her more giddy.
More than anything Teyla wanted to marry Ronon, but since that was no longer possible she would accept the next best thing; ruining all of Rodmilla and Joceline's plans.
"Mother, Joceline," Teyla said as she entered the room.
"Oh look who has decided to grace us with her presence," Rodmilla said, "are you finally done sulking or do you wish make some more accusations?
"I've come to accept the fact that nothing I do will take back what happened," Teyla told them her voice laced with sugar, "I can't win Ronon back and blaming you for it won't help me."
Rodmilla was surprised, "Well this is a marvelous improvement, and does this mean you will finally give Crius Donar some serious thought?"
"Well mother," Teyla began, "that's the problem, I won't be able to marry Crius…I have a feeling he won't accept me."
"Now don't be ridiculous," Rodmilla said, "he already has expressed an interest in you, he wishes to court you once the season is over."
"I don't think he is going to be courting me," Teyla told them with a smile on her face, "you see…I'm pregnant."
Elizabeth gasped and dropped the coal scuttle, Andra whispered, "Bless my word." Joceline burst into fake tears. Rodmilla turned as white as a sheet, "you cannot be serious."
Teyla smiled wider, "I've never been truer to my word; in a few months I'm going to have a child, Ronon's child." She turned to Joceline, "And since you made sure he thought I was the whore of Babylon, he won't believe or ever accept this child as his and marry me to make it legitimate, you made sure of that. No my child is going to be a bastard which makes me undesirable to any man," she smiled brightly at Rodmilla, "I'm sure Crius will be disappointed."
Rodmilla's eyes narrowed, "Why you wretched girl, how could you do this to me and your sister?"
"I don't know mother," Teyla feigned innocence, "how could you ruin your youngest daughter's life in a twisted game to make Joceline a princess?"
"You've ruined your life!" Rodmilla shouted at her.
"No mother you did," Teyla shouted back, "you and Joceline, and I am so glad that I've ruined your plans I just wish that I'd wizened up sooner!"
With that Teyla turned on her heel and stalked back up the stairs to her room. "Mother!" Joceline screeched, "What are we going to do?!"
Rodmilla didn't answer her mind was already working on damage control; she knew that there was a way to fix this problem. If there was one thing Rodmilla was it was crafty, she would find a way to make her plans follow through…perhaps this child could be used to her advantage.
The dreariness in the manor had increased tenfold. Rodmilla and Joceline were amazingly quiet for two days before that the baroness announced that she and her older daughter were leaving for Tirsa for the day and she expected the manor to be spotless when they returned.
Elizabeth worked all morning scrubbing the cellar before finally coming up for air at luncheon. She walked into the kitchen covered with dirt and smelling like lye. She gave Andra a smile before walking to the water pump and pumping cool water on her red, chapped hands.
She lifted her skirt and sighed over her skinned knees. "Do we have any horsetail?"
Andra stopped arranging dishes on a tray and went to inspect her wounds. "I think so; I'll also get you some witch hazel."
"Thanks," Elizabeth replied and groaned with effort as she bent her stiff limbs to sit down on a stool.
Andra cleaned up her scrapes and applied the herbs before binding them with gauze. "There, now you're as right as rain."
"Is there anything you need me to do or can I take a break?"
"I have to watch this stew, could you take that tray up to Teyla for me?" Andra asked while dashing some salt into the pot.
Elizabeth frowned. "Why did you fix her a tray?"
"Because it's luncheon and she needs to eat."
"Then let her come down and get it herself."
Andra whirled around and placed her hands on her hips. "Elizabeth Driana Weir, I know your father raised you better than to say such things."
"Why are you taking her side?" Elizabeth demanded, "The second my father died they stuck me in attic and forced me to slave for them."
Andra sighed and shook her head. "Ella, give me one example when Teyla treated you like a servant."
Elizabeth opened her mouth to speak but no thought appeared in her mind. Her face crinkled into a frown as she pondered over the endless amount of chores that had been dealt her way.
Wait, what about the time when…no that was Joceline. Didn't Teyla make her…no that was Rodmilla.
"See what I mean?" Andra inquired.
"Okay, she never made me do anything, but she also never did anything to help me," Elizabeth pointed.
"I know that, and I don't condone her silence," she replied, "but I do know that she has always looked at you with sympathy. You should do the same." Andra picked up a rag and began to wipe the table. "Teyla is going through a difficult time right now, if you don't treat her with kindness, then you are just like the baroness and Joceline."
Elizabeth pursed her lips and stared down at her raw hands. She had scrubbed, polished and scoured every inch of the manor. She had mended her stepfamily's clothes, combed their hair, heated their bathwater and cleaned their chamber pots. She had every reason to resent them but now she remembered a time when she was eight year old, just one month after her father died.
She had been told to scrub the immense front entry way by hand. It had taken her four hours and by the time she had finished her knuckles were bleeding and her back felt like it had been folded in half. Rodmilla had then ordered her to clean the ashes out of all the fireplaces in the house.
When she had gotten to Teyla's room her heart was nearly bursting out of her ribs. The staircase seemed like three miles long instead of just three stories. The room was bright and cheery with warm sunlight pouring through the rosy curtains. She was so tired and the bed looked so cozy and inviting that she decided to just lie down to catch her breath.
The next thing she knew her shoulder was being shook by her stepsister. "Mother wants you to help Andra with dinner," Teyla said.
Elizabeth blinked away her sleepiness and sat up, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean…"
"Hurry, before she finds you," she had urged her instead of yelling.
Elizabeth had quickly picked up her bucket and scuttle. It wasn't until halfway down the stairs that she realized her bucket was heavier than it should have been. She had emptied it before going into Teyla's room. In the bottom of the bucket was a bed of soft, grey ashes.
She wondered how she could have forgotten that one act of kindness. Then again, ten years of abuse and exhaustion could easily bury the actions of one stepsister. Elizabeth sighed and picked up the tray. "Do we have any chocolate hazelnut squares? Those are her favorites.
Andra smiled and pointed to a wrapped package already on the tray. "I thought she would like them."
Elizabeth nodded and smiled back before leaving the kitchen.
Teyla was sitting near the window staring outside when Elizabeth walked into the room, "I brought you some food," Elizabeth told her, "Andra didn't think you would want to come downstairs."
"That's very kind of you," Teyla said with out turning to look at her, "but I'm not very hungry."
"You should eat," Elizabeth explained, "after all you're…"
"Pregnant?" Teyla finished, her gazed dropped from the window to her wringing hands; "It still doesn't seem real." She finally turned to look at her step sister, "You think I'm horrible don't you? I mean only wicked girls are supposed to have children out of wedlock."
"You're not horrible," Elizabeth told her, "You fell in love, that's a good thing."
"Is that any excuse?"
Elizabeth was silent for a moment, "but you seemed so happy when you told Rodmilla and Joceline."
"I was happy," Teyla explained, "happy to be able to tell them they'd failed completely but this isn't what I wanted, none of it."
"Is there any way you could…" Elizabeth began, "I mean if you told him do you think that maybe…"
"He called me a whore and denounced me in public," Teyla told her, "I'm fairly certain that if I told him he was the father he wouldn't believe me, he'll think it was someone else's," a determined look came over her face and stared at a spot on the wall, "but I swear on my father's grave I was never unfaithful to him."
"I believe you," Elizabeth said, she smiled a little; "I always thought that Joceline would be the one that would get into trouble like this."
Teyla smiled, "She did, a year ago, but she simply got rid of it…I refuse to do that."
"I admire you for that," Elizabeth told her.
"Don't, I've never done anything that is worth your admiration."
"You never made me slave for you, that's good enough," Elizabeth reminded her, "when I was eight I fell asleep in your room; you cleaned your own fireplace and made sure I didn't get into trouble."
Teyla smiled, "I can't believe you remembered that."
"I didn't," Elizabeth admitted, "Andra helped me."
"Andra is very special," Teyla agreed, "much more so than she'll admit."
Elizabeth was confused, "What do you mean?"
Teyla shrugged, "It isn't important, I'm just sorry that I never had the courage to help you out more than I did…after all, you lost your father and I know what that is like."
Elizabeth was startled, she'd forgotten that Teyla's father had died, she'd always been focused on her mother, "You were close to your father?"
Teyla nodded, "Joceline has always been mother's favorite, and my father noticed that…he loved us both but he always gave me the attention I lacked…when he died I lost the one person who cared for me," Tears sparkled in Teyla's eyes, "and now it's happened again."
Elizabeth sat down next to Teyla, "Then we'll have to stick together, we're both alone," she smiled, "besides your child will love you."
"I guess your right," Teyla said wiping the tears from her cheeks, "and we should stick together…perhaps we can even be friends?"
Elizabeth smiled, "I would like nothing more."
TBC
A/N: Now they are friends next chap the baby is born and the adventure really begins.