A/N: Well, here it is, the second chapter of our chain story. Hope you like it!

Chapter 2 - By Mage of Dragons

I'm finally going to Corus, Aoife thought to herself. She was still undecided as to how she felt about this sudden revelation. As a lady, she would finally be in her element, and, she supposed, far more at home than here at Eldorne. She had never felt as if she belonged within those silent, dusty halls. And, finally, she would have a real challenge for once in her life. Here at Eldorne, the only challenges that existed were the ones she set for herself, or the silent demands for perfection that she felt radiated from the stony walls.

Nevertheless, Aoife was unsure. She hated being forced into decisions which she could not affect; her birth being the largest of these things which weighed heavily upon her. Her parents were forcing her into this, and, just as every other time, she was supposed to "make the best of things, Aoife Mairi." Those same words were uttered by her parents every time they sent her to resolve or muddle through a problem not of her own causation.

The surety of her parents in this whole Court appearance matter also bothered her. Her whole future, and, if what they said was true, Eldorne's whole future lay on her ability to gain a husband within a year. Didn't they understand that, besides her brothers and uncles, she had no experience with men or boys? Aoife bit her lip. She loved challenges, but this one sounded as if it was just too much for her. The Gods knew how high the odds were stacked against her; she had never been to the convent like all of the other Ladies, she had never had a meaningful conversation with a male outside of her own family (and even something meaningful in Eldorne would seem bland somewhere else,) and, oh yes, she was, how had Lerant quoted that noble? The "sprig of a traitorous tree." She only remembered the utterance because it was by far the mildest of all the insults hurled at her family line.

Almost no one had dared to make contact with Fief Eldorne since her traitorous Aunt's execution, save for when the Crown's men had come to strip the family of its fortune. Even the local village children from the scant few families who had stayed within the bounds of Fief Eldorne were not allowed to approach the members of the household, Aoife had once heard one of them say. Their parents were afraid that the noble family's treachery would rub off on them. If the villagers, the people who are supposed to respect and honor us, can't even bear to speak to me, then why should any noble?

Lerant had been allowed to escape this Gods-forsaken place, by the grace of the Gods. Why should her family be given another chance? Aoife thought longingly of her eldest brother, Reagan. He had left home almost seven years ago, in a fit of violent passion that was his nature. Fiery-haired and green-eyed, Reagan had been a spark of light inside dreary Eldorne, or so Aoife often liked to think. She had only been ten, and he, fifteen, when he had left, never to return, and her memories of his were scant—mostly loud outbursts, or the way his white teeth had flashed against his face in a cocky grin.

Where are you now? Maybe he had shed his name and lived now as a commoner, free of this birth-curse. But Reagan would have never settled for that, Aoife was sure. He had wanted to be a knight, wanted it more than she had ever known a person to want something. His dreams had been dashed when he finally turned ten, Lerant had retold to her. Now, she wondered where he was, and if she would ever see him again.

Sighing, Aoife stood up from her bed and eyed herself in the mirror, willing Reagan's face, as she imagined it might look, to appear over her shoulder. For if anyone knew if it was possible to shed this curse, it was he. But the answer was lost to her. Aoife could only guess at where he was, or even if he was alive. And, after seven years of separation, she doubted they could even recognize each other.

She knew that she herself had changed, and not just in appearance. The years she had spent, locked away inside the halls of Eldorne had worn away her spirit, softening and smoothing it in the way a river shapes a pebble stone.

For the better or the worse? She thought for the thousandth time. She had always thought that just keeping her sanity was an accomplishment, but sometimes she wasn't sure. On the other hand, surely, to be a lady required a certain demureness of spirit, or so Aoife had imagined the Sisters at the Convent would say, when she had been young enough to play those games.

My situation is impossible! Aoife thought again. I know nothing about being a Lady, save for what I have taught myself! All I have are Mother's old stories and my silly imaginings! Still, she had to try. It wasn't in her to give in to a challenge, no matter how impossible or unwanted. And, no matter how much she cursed her ancestress, no matter how often she wanted to reject the blood that ran through her veins, no matter how much she hated the dreary cage of a place that was Eldorne, she still supposed that she owed to it a noble duty.

o o o o o

The next night, after a silent dinner of pheasant soup, Aoife was again summoned to her father's study. She stepped in, thinking that maybe, for once in her life, if she went into her father's room, he would speak to her without his customary weighted silence. However, all of her wishful thinking was in vain. Her father studied her features intently for several minutes. She stared back at him, her blue-green eyes defiant.

After a long while, he folded his hands on top of the desk. "Yes, I suppose that you'll do," he said with a sigh.

I'll do Aoife couldn't even fathom what her father meant by that phrase. She opened her mouth to repeat his words, but swallowed them when her father's voice interrupted her whirling thoughts.

"Those old dresses of Delia's ought to fit you fairly well, Aoife Mairi. And, your grandmother has offered to tailor them for you, quite graciously. You should thank her as soon as you have the time."

Aoife's mind spun. Were her ears on straight? What had happened to her world? Her grandmother, sewing again, and her father encouraging her to speak? What was going on here?

"Grandmother is sewing again." She stated flatly. Her father nodded. "For me? For the Gods' sakes, why?"

"Because the future of Eldorne hinges on your marriage, Aoife Mairi. We are all counting on you, so we must do our best to see that you succeed," Dierderich said bleakly.

Well, when you put it that way…Aoife thought to herself. Her father had spoken the words as if someone had signed a writ for his death. His voice held a gravity that the most serious Player would envy. Ignoring the use of her double name, she opened her mouth to say, "Oh," in a very ignorant and undignified manner, but closed it when she realized that she must start practicing no to be a lady. Surely ladies did not express themselves with something so common and coarse. She steeled her features and settled for what she hoped was a dignified nod.

"Now, follow me," he beckoned, rising wearily from his worn leather chair. He led her up several flights of well-worn but lately unused stairs, up to her grandparents' rooms. As they stepped inside, Aoife looked at the unfamiliar surroundings and thought, maybe I've been here before, but if I have, I can't possibly recall when. It disturbed her slightly to think that there were places inside her own home which she had not fully explored. But she was more prone to exploring the forests outdoors than the dusty halls within Eldorne. Her observation of the place was cut short as her father dragged her into a corridor inside her grandparents' rooms. It was short, and led to yet another room, this one unique in the fact that it was without windows, and had only one door, which they entered through. Dominating the room was a large, intricate cedar wardrobe, though a set of chests and a row of shelves also stood out from the dark, empty spaces. Lighting the old, musty candles with her gift, Aoife stepped forward.

"This room contains," Dierderich began, then cleared his throat, "all of Delia - your aunt's - old things. We have agreed that you are to have them." This said, he once again lapsed into silence.

Taking his usual non-verboseness as an instruction for her to proceed with her inspection of the place, Aoife did so. She, however, did not begin her search with mighty wardrobe, but with a shelf which stood against one wall. It seemed to be adorned with a great army of dust-rabbits. Upon closer inspection, and much breathy prompting (which left Aoife coughing and choking from the dust she had raised,) she determined that the whole shelf was occupied by lovers' trifles. She supposed that all of the adoring men at court had each given her their fair share of gifts in attempts to win over her infamous ancestress. She had heard as much from her Aunt Deirdre, who had been (and still was) an adoring fan of her older sister's beauty and ability to attract men.

The chests, Aoife discovered, contained an everyday array of skirts, shirts, and shifts, as well as a whole chest filled with frilly and lacy undergarments. This struck her as more than slightly odd. She should have expected it, seeing as it came from her family, but, still. There was a trunk inside her house full of traitor underpants. It was almost comical. Why had her grandparents kept these

This just finally proves that there are Eldornes other than Delia who are completely insane, Aoife thought. She resolved that she wasn't going to be wearing any traitorous under-things anytime soon. As soon as she had processed the thought, Aoife chided herself. I sound like the village women, the ones who think that Eldorne blood-and treachery-is catching. I can't be any more Eldorne than I already am. And besides, how are other people supposed to accept me for who I am, in spite of Delia, if I can't even get over the part of me that is her?

Shaking the unwelcome thoughts from her head-she had more investigating to do-Aoife moved on to the wardrobe at last. When she opened the heavy, intricate doors, she witnessed a riot of colors as was unfit to be seen anywhere in the vicinity of Eldorne.

Aoife was immediately thankful that her aunt had been such an immoral and scheming seductress. Because, she had heard her other aunts remark, in her efforts to make herself as desirable as possible, and in order to stand out against the other women of her time, Delia had declined the tissue-thin, pale gowns that were considered fashionable. She had instead opted for gowns of brighter hue and silky fabric. The cuts of the dresses were not as bad as she had imagined—certainly not the exotic new styles she would see in Corus, she guessed, but at least the dresses were modern enough that they did not scream, "Grandmother!" The necklines were dangerously low, too low for her taste, but that wasn't so bad. Fashion lately had drifted towards more exposure. And, she was out to get a husband in a year, she reminded herself. She could use all the help she could get, even from Aunt Delia.

When she was done with her inspection, she wasn't sure what to say. She was still angry at her father for his decision, but now, her situation didn't seem so hopeless. I guess I ought to act the Court Lady now, Aoife thought. "Thank you, father," she said, walking up to him. "These clothes should be perfect."

Her father nodded. "I will have them brought into your rooms for your grandmother to alter." Aoife nodded in response, then left the room.

o o o o o

A few moments later, Aoife found herself in the woods, with her bow and quiver slung over her back. She strode quickly to the place where she had set up a makeshift target, and set herself up. Archery was her escape. It didn't require manners or thinking. It was just you, the arrow, and the soft twang of the bowstring. The repetition and rhythm was soothing. Out here, away from everything else, she could shed her worries about becoming a lady, and just shoot her bow.

When she was there, she didn't think about the fact that she was leaving for Corus tomorrow, or that this might be the last time that she would shoot her bow for a while. Even though Tortall now had two Lady Knights, and a host of other female warriors in the Queen's Riders, she guessed that the Court Ladies would still remain old-fashioned about fighting.

The sun dipped low in the sky, lighting up the horizon with ruddy streaks of fire. As she recoiled her bowstring, she looked back over the line of trees and thought, well, this is goodbye, Eldorne. She wouldn't miss the place, she thought, but at least here, she had some security. Tomorrow she would be thrown out into the world, like a baby bird pushed from a nest. And she had only one chance to get things right, without practice, only one chance to spread her wings and fly. Well, let's hope I don't get it wrong.

A/N: So, there it is. Stay tuned for the next chapter, to be written by the amazing Confusedknight!! It'll be up soon! And don't forget to review!!!