Disclaimer: Anything you've seen in print previously does not belong to this person, rather, it belongs to an author with quite a bit more money (and talent) than I do.
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A small band of newly knighted men rode their tired steeds into a busy marketplace. Attracting wondering looks and receiving entirely too much attention for their leader's comfort, they were quickly bustled into the largest inn in town. Unnoticed among the momentary commotion, a handsome knight slipped away into the bordering forest.
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Daria groaned despairingly. She had walked another quarter mile since that morning, and she'd passed only one farm. When she inquired within for work, the farmer laughed her away. Apparently, a woman couldn't handle the work. A furious Daria had then unleashed her already frayed temper, losing all chance of food or rest.
The high noon sun seemed twice as hot today, Daria thought. She wiped beads of perspiration from her forehead and started in surprise. A house! A beautiful, wonderful house with a bed and food and drink and someplace to rest one's feet...
"Actually, it's more of a hut," a practical female voice broke through her mumbling (had she been mumbling? An embarrassed Daria flushed at the realization). "It hasn't had a fireplace since the last war, I have one bed filled with old straw, there's no food at the moment, and to get water you'll have to haul it up from a well deeper in the forest. But, ignoring my home's imperfections for the moment, why would a pampered woman such as yourself be so enamored with it?"
"Er-- you see, I..." Daria was at a loss. She did not want to reveal her story to this complete stranger; she decided to be blunt and quick, hoping the rejection would be quick. "I'm Abbey, and looking for work."
The lady (more of a crone, really) lost her eyebrows as they flew into her hairline. "Really?" She paused, and looked Daria up and down. Daria nodded earnestly, her hopes rising much higher than she'd let them. "Well, the pay would be nonexistent, but I can offer you food and lodging. I'm Inez, an herbalist--" at Daria's excited look, she wagged her finger at her. "Oh, no, dearie, you won't be handling the plants just yet. I'll have you do the chores that I myself don't like--"
"So I can work here?"
"Yes, what did you--" Daria cut her off. Inez found herself being strangled with a force she didn't think the young woman was capable of. It took her a few seconds to realize she was being hugged, and a few more seconds for her to hug back.
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Lady Sarah sat despondently in an armchair in front of her mother and aunt. She had been questioned, yelled at, and all in all made very uncomfortable ever since she had finished breakfast, and all because of her older sister. At the moment she was wishing she was the one who had run away.
"All right! I'll tell you! Just take away the pink bears!"
Her mother and Aunt Maurine looked quite taken aback. "Pink ... bears...?"
Oh, right.
In truth, their questioning methods had been quite boring. She was their blood, after all. She decided to speak anyway, half-wishing there had been pink bears, for a distraction.
"Daria ran away," she began, earning a quite unladylike snort from her aunt.
"We know. But where to? With whom?" her Aunt Maurine was quite harried from lack of food, so Sarah decided to forgive her tone.
Sarah sighed. "Don't you want to know why she ran away?"
But Lady Gwenneth had had enough. The Prince was coming in less than a week, her middle child had disappeared, and her youngest was behaving like a stubborn pig. "Sarah Electra Demetrius, if you don't tell me everything right now..." she let her voice trail off, leaving her daughter to use her wild imagination to think up what would happen.
Sarah frowned dourly. "Fine," she spoke in a brusque manner, detailing Daria's plans of escaping to how she would drug Boris. She ended her monologue with a sort of righteous indignation.
"...And if I were her, I would have run away much sooner, mother. Seeing how everyone treats her! She's always in the middle, she thinks she doesn't stand out at all, and you do nothing to encourage her, mother. Last night was the last straw. You basically told her to her face that you believed she wasn't as good of a marriage choice as I was! I mean, Daria doesn't care quite so much about marriage, but in principle it would hurt anyone! All these years, every fairy story we've read, it's either the eldest or the youngest that gets the glory, the attention. It's always the eldest or the youngest that has the quirks and beauty. And after Father died--" at this, her voice faltered, but Sarah went on, fueled by her passion. "And after Father died and Elizabeth got married it just got worse. She thinks you don't love her, mother! She felt needed to do something, and she did. You can't blame her for it, and I'm not going to help you by telling you where she's heading. You needn't say anything," she held up her hand as Lady Gwenneth opened her mouth to speak, "I can see myself to my rooms."
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Daria was shaken awake from a lovely, much-needed nap by none other than Inez. "All right, it's time to make yourself useful." Ignoring Daria's various protests, she stuffed her into an apron and set her about tidying her messy workplace. Daria was not allowed near any of the plant dyes, they were considered too fragile for her just yet. Instead, after rigorously scrubbing every inch of the meager hut, she fed the chickens, collected their eggs, pruned shrubs, and was thoroughly exhausted when Inez set her about the final task of the day: water duty. She was to bring back two buckets of water, as full as she could get them, and water the shrubs she had pruned (Inez would use the second bucket of water to tend to her other plants and dyes and such).
Daria hummed a song as she looked forward to the end of the day. Her feet did not mind the rough, worn path as she thought of the straw bed that now seemed fit for a king. She did not notice a startled pair of sea-green eyes watching her as she neared the well and began to try to figure out how one worked.
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A/N: I know it's woefully short; I just didn't wanted to give too much away just yet... Dun kill meh! In fact, you should stik with me! The Confrontation, she comes! ;P (Actually sooner than I had initially planned it, but it's not going to satisfy anyone but me after you read it. Hopefully, for reasons other than horrible writing...)
If Daria's walking ability seems strange to you, ignore it. I hurt my big toe yesterday and I'm exaggerating all over the place. (Heh, I was afraid this wouldn't get updated this week, I started it last weekend and I just finished it on Friday. Whoo. Although I was wondering whether I should update weekly or based on numbers of reviews...) I had originally written some of this for the end of the second chapter, so it's short, and it seems rather choppy to me. In short, I hate most of this 'un, too (the only parts I'm a little bit satisfied with are the first and last paragraphs...).
It's come as a relief that most of you (well, those that review, at least-- I love you people) like it; and just a small note, but asking an author to hurry updoesn't really help (although sometimes I wish it did-- the only reason I actually made myself sit down and write this was because of this strange commitment), and I s'pose it's flattering that you like it enough to say that, I end up feeling like delaying updates to spite you.
As always, please read and review! (It makes my life so mcuh better, I swear.) Feel free to criticize, suggest plot twists, new characters, anything! (this has gotten to be a tremendous author note...)
