A Princess for Wintersfeast [Closed]

A Princess for Wintersfeast [Closed] - Printable Version

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A Princess for Wintersfeast [Closed] - megs - 12-03-2018

RE: A Princess for Wintersfeast [Closed] - megs - 12-03-2018

Eskra was cold.

Julianna was having trouble sleeping. Yes, because of the cold, which she was wholly unaccustomed to, but there were other reasons. All of the noises outside were unfamiliar to her. The autumn wind howling through trees she didn’t know the names of. Night creatures scurrying to and fro in the underbrush, each with a distinct chatter she couldn’t place. She was in the bed of a man she didn’t know. Had been sleeping (or trying to sleep) in it for the last four nights.

Even though the bed was warm and cosy, piled high with furs with a dreamy fire crackling in the hearth, she was left comforted by the obvious scent of another person that permeated the bed dressings.

Pulling the hooded drape she had been using to hide her cat-like ears tighter over her head, she rolled over, as if finding a new position would make the sleep that eluded her easier to find. Her long, silver-furred tail curled around her, as she tried to comfort herself.

An assassination attempt had driven her from her home. Julianna was the princess of an archipelago to the south. Veridian. They had shared their ports with Eskran ships for as long as she could remember. Tradings good, and mingling peacefully for decades. So, of course, in Veridian’s time of need, Eskra welcomed her with open arms. Knowing that the favor would be returned.

The Jarl of secluded village she had been spirited away to, Darcy Weatherfare, was a large man with stern features and a commanding tone, but he was kind. His wife, Ishara, was even more so. Warm and matronly. So fierce and doting that she could have been mistaken for Julianna’s own mother.

Julianna felt safe, and she felt welcomed, but she was also scared. Someone, somewhere was trying to kill her. And perhaps, not only her, her family as well. Even if she were safe in Eskra, her mother and father were still back in Veridian, vulnerable to attack. It was those thoughts that kept her awake at night. More than the cold, and the noises, and the stranger’s scent combined.

Naturally, she had taken measures to assure her own safety. Not wholly reliant on the vigilance of strangers. Julianna was skilled with a blade, and had hidden daggers throughout the home so one always in reach. Besides the ones she always kept on her person. Burrowing further beneath the pile of furs and quilts, she made an attempt to will herself to sleep, but then there as...something. Some new noise. Some new...thing, outside the cabin. She could only imagine what nature of creature could be grazing, or stalking, in the nearby forest.

RE: A Princess for Wintersfeast [Closed] - saronym - 12-05-2018

It had been a hard journey home after their scouting party had been attacked. Eoghan was uncomfortable in the saddle, his body protesting with pain from an injury on his side with every step of his horse. The familiar grand fir, pine, and adler trees were a comfort that his journey was almost finished. The forest gave way to the village where he made his home. He lived on the far northwest portion of the village with his wooden cabin somewhat separated from the rest.

He stabled his horse and shouldering his pack, he picked up some chopped firewood piled up on the outside of his house to make a fire. He dropped a piece and it went clattering back down into the pile knocking against the exterior wall as it went.

Arms loaded with firewood, Eoghan rounded to the front of his home and shoved open the door. His boots scraped on the wood floor but he froze in the doorway.

Something was wrong. Everything was wrong. Changed in his house. Someone was there, he could feel them.

He dropped the load of wood to the floor and drew his small axe as his eyes scanned the darkness. “Show yourself.” He growled at the dim as he stalked in the darkness his fur cloak shifted at his feet and his leather jerkin creaked. His boot kicked the table where he hadn't expected it to be.

RE: A Princess for Wintersfeast [Closed] - megs - 12-10-2018

Movement near the firewood pile. Julianna held her breath, ears rotating to better pick up on the sounds of the commotion outside the walls of the cabin. She pushed the pile of coverings off, and sat up on the bed. Listening intently to footsteps that were coming closer, still, moving around the house towards the door. The fur on her tail fluffed up as she gazed at the entrance she had done nothing to barricade.

The door opened, and Julianna scrambled out of the bed, grabbing the dagger she had shoved beneath the pillow. She slunk onto the floor, moving in a way more akin to her feline nature. She kept her body low to the ground as she maneuvered on her hands and knees to hide behind a chest of drawers. The open door spilled moonlight into the dwelling, and illuminated the figure figure of a very large man.

It was obvious to her that she could see in the dark better than he, peeking from her hiding place she watched as he moved with uncertainty. Moonbeams reflected off her eyes, like two shining orbs in the part of the house still shrouded in darkness. He kicked the table, and she darted across the room, perching near the woodstove. Julianna knew she needed to get around him, to both escape and to have an advantage if an altercation escalated. So, she moved in time with him, masking her near-silent steps with his heavy, booted ones. She was like a wraith in the darkness, as she circled the room in the opposite direction of his investigated. Light glinted off the ax in he held. She was barely breathing, as if her lungs had been petrified with the terror, she had forced out of her limbs so she could escape.

They played this game of cat and mouse for only a few moments, he was aware of her presence, even if he couldn't pinpoint her exact location. He kept his guard up. Which meant he was a seasoned hunter, if not also a fighter. Julianna didn't want to fight a stranger in the middle of the night. Perhaps it could be avoided Once again, he moved forward and she moved back. Julianna was behind him now, but she stayed obscured by the table he had first kicked. "Who are you," she demanded to his back, grip tight on her knife. "Why have you come here?"

RE: A Princess for Wintersfeast [Closed] - saronym - 01-06-2019

He saw it in the darkness. Two glowing orbs low to the ground in his bedroom. The sight of it drew his breath away. A demon? It skittered away. Glowing eyes gone just as soon as he saw them.

With his free hand, he gripped the pendant hanging at his neck, silently calling on his patron goddess for protection. Meanwhile it was creeping in the darkness. He could hear it though its movements were almost soundless. He thought he could feel the very air in the house moving around it.

A voice from behind him. A woman? Her accent was strange. A witch. He turned around and swiftly kicked aside the table. Its legs ground noisly over the wood flooring. The jarring to his body from the kick sent a twinge of hot pain through his injured side. He gripped his side with his free hand and pointed with his axe at the shadowy figure crouched on the floor behind a chair still remaining.

“I am not a man who permits squatters.” He warned as he stepped forward clearly prepared to strike her down. Not much for an introduction.

RE: A Princess for Wintersfeast [Closed] - megs - 01-30-2019

The stranger kicked the table, and Julianna clambered backwards, taking the chair with her. She was gripping it like a shield and it groaned across the wood as she pulled at it. It wouldn't be an entirely effective barrier against a mountain of a man determined to get to her but it was still enough cover. "A-a what!" He commentary caught her off-guard. So much so that for a moment she forgot her life was in danger. "I am not a squatter," she complained, as a princess she was offended and that apparently took precedent.

A heavy boot step drew her attention to the fact that this man intended to attack her. In the dark she could tell that he was favoring a side, perhaps he had an injury there she could exploit. She kicked the chair at him, sending it tumbling in his direction. Which was obstacle enough for her to dodge his determined ax swing. She darted to the side, dagger in hand. His swing had been overzealous, the unsteadiness of his injured side made his footing wobbly. She head the weapon back contact with something, and she was thankful it wasn't her head. Lunging forward, Julianna slammed her body into his, impacting against the side that was hindering him. He toppled over and Julianna went with him. A flurry of layered skirts and furred cloaks billowed to the ground in a heap with groaning protests from both of them. Julianna recovered first, she scrambled up and on top of him. She straddled his chest, she didn't have time to think about propriety. Her body weight probably wasn't enough to hold him down, but the dagger she had trained against his throat likely would.

"You shouldn't be here," she growled, touching the knife to his skin. "Who are you?"

RE: A Princess for Wintersfeast [Closed] - saronym - 02-02-2019

Eoghan’s head was feeling fuzzy. His limbs were heavy. The injury and the long trip was taking it's toll. The woman, however, was quick on her feet and easily dodged his attack.

She charged him and searing pain bolted up and down the side of his body. His axe fell from his hand with a clatter. Eoghan landed with a confused ‘oof.’ Following a brief and dazed tussle, the little woman was on top of him. She weighed hardly anything but the point of her knife was exceptionally sharp against his vulnerable throat. He swallowed feeling the blade move with his adam's apple.

Green eyes flashed at him in the dark.

“I live here.” He insisted. “My name is Eoghan Weatherfare. I’ve been away scouting. My father is the Thane. Who are you?" In the dark his fingers felt around for his axe hoping it was within reach.

RE: A Princess for Wintersfeast [Closed] - megs - 02-03-2019

Julianna could hear him fumbling in the dark. Her ears, still somehow hidden by her drape, rotated towards the sound of his fingers scraping. Without taking her eyes off of him, her free hand reached into her dress. She retrieved another knife from some hidden place. In a swift movement she buried the blade into the floor. Between his thumb and forefinger. A warning, that he should stop his actions.

"Eoghan," she repeated, recognition in her tone, but the dagger at his throat didn't ease up. "He is on a scouting mission," she agreed with heavy implication that she didn't believe he was who he said he was. 'He is not supposed to return for another week." That is all Julianna knew about the Thane's son. Confirmation could only come from the Thane himself. Retrieving him would leave her vulnerable to another attack from the stranger.

For the moment, they appeared to be at an impasse and the question of her identity went unnoticed.

"I suppose we will have to go to the Thane, then," she suggested. If he argued or declined it would be enough to prove that he was an imposter. He'd go with if he was who he said he was, right?

RE: A Princess for Wintersfeast [Closed] - saronym - 02-05-2019

Eoghan would be embarrassed when he later recollected the way he flinched when her knife came down into the floor between his fingers. He went completely still. He could feel the cool steel next to his thumb.

“Yield.” He said. “I yield.” Their tussle left him with the feeling of spreading warmth over his injured side. And a throbbing that radiated up his ribcage and into his shoulder. His wound was open and leaking. Gushing maybe.

“I am him. I was with a scouting party. I was injured by a wild boar. I came home early.” He lied about the nature of his injury. He couldn't be sure if this person an obvious stranger to their village could be trusted with the truth of their clash with another Eskran scouting party.

“Let’s have an armistice. And we will see the Thane, then, to settle this. But first, are you any good with a needle?” He carefully lifted the hand from the floor and tried to peak the woman under the hood. Better to know who he was contending with. The most he could see were flashing green eyes. When she moved the light caught on the bridge of her nose and he could make out the curve of her full lips.

RE: A Princess for Wintersfeast [Closed] - megs - 02-18-2019

The woman was quiet for a few moments, though she did not entirely succumb to his request for mercy. Though her dagger may have eased form its position directly against his skin, it did not stray far lest he decide once more to attack her. Julianna looked down her nose at him as he explained the situation that brought him back home so early.

"A boar," she repeated, sounding dubious. One brow lifted upwards, hidden beneath the drape she wore, but the covering didn't hide the derisive curl of her mouth. Enough light spilled in from the clear night sky that he would notice it. Julianna wasn't sure if it was the pale moonlight or his reported injuries that made him so bold. The hand she had extended to wield the second dagger moved in time with his. Directing his fingers away from her face with a smack.

"Very well," she agreed to his call for a truce. If only for a moment. She wedged her second dagger from the floor and slid off of him. It was then she noticed something warm and sticky clinging to her thigh. She lifted her skirts enough to drag her fingers across the sensation. The came away bloodied. The wound she had exploited earlier to best he was bleeding quite profusely.

She dropped the fabric, moving away from him. "Remove your armor," she instructed. "Let's have a look at you before you bleed to death." Julianna moved around the room. She began by striking a fire in the hearth, and using it to light a few hanging lamps around the room before gathering what she would need to assist him from her own belongings.

RE: A Princess for Wintersfeast [Closed] - saronym - 02-24-2019

When he swallowed, Eoghan could feel the sharp metal against his adam's apple. He was loathe to admit that he never had a blade that close to his neck or face before. Near his guts, sure. But somehow the small blade pressing to his neck felt more personal.

Although she didn't seem to believe his story, she believed him enough to give him a reprieve from contact with the blade. He was aware that it remained close should she need it. He could still sense the electricity of its cool, deadly presence hovering near his neck.

His lips flattened into a thin line in response to the skeptical curve of her mouth. “A boar, yes.”

His hand curled into a fist and he let it fall to the floor at his side when she knocked it away. He felt every muscle in his body relax when she moved off him. He rose on to his elbows and looked with curious detachment at the blood that glistened in the dark on her fingers. His blood.

He watched her warily as she moved about his house with obvious familiarity. Unclasping his thick cloak with the fur mantel, he let it fall to the floor with a flutter of fabric. Tired fingers worked at the lacing to his leather armor until it was loose enough to lift over his head. The linen shirt he wore under his armor was thoroughly stuck to his skin around the wound site. An ugly dark red almost brown stain marred most of the white fabric against his side.

“What is your name?” He asked as he carefully peeled the shirt away from the wound, hissing where it stuck and pulled at his broken skin. He righted a chair that was knocked over during their scuffle and plopped down. He peered down at his wound with that same curious detachment. When he probed around its angry edges with his fingers sanguineous fluid leaked out.

He swallowed rising fear that the wound was worse than he originally estimated and tried to distract himself by watching the hooded woman. Her movements were a swirl of cloaked mystery. She seemed to be trying to hide in plain sight.

“Perhaps you shouldn't look. Just bring me what is required. It will make you ill to see it.” Her ferocious competence in the wielding of knives seemed enough evidence that she didn't have the same sensitivities as some of the high born women he knew. Even so, squatter or not, he still felt the urge to shield her from the grisly wound.

RE: A Princess for Wintersfeast [Closed] - megs - 03-03-2019

Still she did not answer to the question of her name. And she would continue to not answer until they were in front of the thane and his identity was confirmed. If his story was true, perhaps she would feel bad for attacking the village leader's son in his own home. Then again, she probably wouldn't since he had charged her with an ax. Julianna figured it served him right for going after her.

When the house was awash in the glow of firelight, Julianna pulled her trunk from beneath the bed. She rifled around until she found what she was looking for. A leather pouch. Inside was the essentials of an effective first aid kit. She stood, tucking it under her arm. She laughed from across the room when he bid her to keep her distance. Instead of heeding his instructions she continued to move closer, gathering a basin of water with her as she did so.

"You have no idea how much blood a woman sees." She knelt next to him, pushing his hands away from his own injury as she did so. "Your own mother has seen more blood than you." She continued to scold him as she cleaned the wound with water and cloth. Julianna didn't look up at him as she spoke or as she worked. Leaning closer she pinched the edges of the gash together, now that she could see the severity with the new and old blood washed away from it. "I'm sure there was plenty of blood to be seen the day she pushed you from her womb." She discontinued probing him long enough to prepare a needle and thread to stitch him back together.

"As large as you are now. I could only imagine the size of your head as a babe." She was smirking again, not that it was easy to see beneath the fall of her hood. "This might hurt," she said as she sat up on her knees and pushed the needle through his skin without much warning than that.

Julianna was not gentle, but she was efficient and thorough. It wasn't long before she had turned the gash into a pucked and angry looking red line. Not the prettiest thing, but it was closed and he wouldn't be bleeding out any longer. "I can only hope you did the same to the boar." She wiped at the sutures with a clean cloth. "Rather embarrassing, otherwise."

RE: A Princess for Wintersfeast [Closed] - saronym - 03-12-2019

The way she laughed at him made him twist around in the chair and glower at her. Not that she paid his expression any mind. She came right towards him with as much determination and will as a charging boar. He almost laughed himself if not for the shroud of mystery that still, quite literally, cloaked her.

The capering light from the hearth made shadows dance over her face. The hood of her cloak kept a large portion of her features completely hidden in shadow. But he could tell from her complexion that she wasn't Eskran. Her eyes unlike any color he'd seen seemed to glow at him from under her hood. There was nothing in Eskra that shade of green.

He let her scold him and focused instead on not making too much of a fuss at her work. Her touch wasn't particularly gentle but her hands were deft and efficient. He hissed and gripped the edge of his seat but was overall mostly still and bore the pain with the kind of masculine grit that he had come to expect of himself.

“What is embarrassing is to be bested by a smallish woman like yourself.” Eoghan gasped as gave the closed wound one final wipe with the wet cloth clearing away the blood smearing over his side.

When her fingers fell away from him, he leaned back some to inspect her work. “Not the prettiest needle work a lady has given me but I suppose it will hold me together.”

Eoghan stood suddenly. The wood chair groaned as it released his bulk. He moved retrieved a clean linen shirt from a trunk of his things that was pushed against the wall of the bedroom. The same bedroom she had navigated with such familiarity. Her things stored under his bed. The bedding pulled back where she had recently lay. There was an impression of a small body in the oversized bed.

“You have made yourself quite comfortable in the bed I built for myself.” He remarked as he gingerly pulled a fresh shirt over his shoulders, guarding his movements to benefit his so recently closed wound. The cloth had absorbed a new scent. Something spicy and herbal that he didn't recognize. He wondered if it was her cooking or whether she burned herbs to aromatize the house.

“I’m almost sorry to have you removed. I could use a servant. Though you do seem a bit insubordinate." His eyes glittered mischeviously with his commentary. "You still have not given me your name, woman.” He complained.

RE: A Princess for Wintersfeast [Closed] - megs - 03-13-2019

"Perhaps that will teach you not to underestimate smallish women. Or boars, for that matter." She tossed the things she had used to patch him up into the bowl, and stood to deposit the entire mess on the table. He made some comments about her handiwork and she ignored them.

Julianna was aware that she had a very unique upbringing. Learning more about tactics and battle than she ever had about embroidery and tea services - which was not to say that she could not prepare a lovely afternoon tea if the situation called for it.

"I was given permission to stay here by the thane while his son was on a hunt," she said, to defend herself. Eoghan was very keen on pointing out again and again that she didn't belong there. She didn't even want to be there so his constant nagging ate away at her. He was watching her so curiously, determined to unravel the mystery that she was presenting to him.

"I am no one's servant," she snapped with no appreciation for his comments. "I will not be giving you my name until your identity is confirmed with the thane. And even then, I will not be too keen to give it to you. We will go to the thane now, because I tire of you."

RE: A Princess for Wintersfeast [Closed] - saronym - 03-18-2019

“The Thane's son has returned from his hunt.” His counterpoint to hers. Though it made no difference. They were stuck at stalemate unable to confirm the other's rights to the house.

Eoghan layered a short sleeved leather tunic over his linen and belted it all around his middle. He snatched at his cloak and swung the heavy material around his broad shoulders securing it across his chest. The hood was somewhat tattered from his travels, but he lifted it shrouding his own face in as much shadow as the mysterious woman.

From somewhere inside his hood, Eoghan laughed at her. “An ill-tempered spitfire like you wouldn't make a proper servant, anyhow. Kitchen wench perhaps.” The smirk on his face was in his voice. Now he was provoking her just for the sport of it. He had lost a contest of steel with her, but he fancied himself as the victor in their verbal battle. For now.

“Get on, then.” He considered punctuating his order with a healthy smack on her bottom but thought better of it remembering the sharp blade against his neck. Best not to test his luck with her twice in the same night.

Outside the temperature had dropped as the wind picked up and a light but icy rain drizzled through the trees. The wind tore the autumn leaves that had gone yellow and brown and cast them about in swirls.

Eoghan had made his home in the woods outside the village. Through the trees and down the hill lay the principal township of his Father, the Thane. Fire light twinkled through the windows of the homes below them. Their destination was at the center of town. Eirth Hall was illuminated in part by torch light that moved with the pacing guardsmen on their watch.

Eoghan pulled his cloak closer around his shoulders feeling sorry he had to go out in the weather just to solve a petty dispute. He was so obviously the wronged party. He nonetheless retrieved his horse, a massive grey stallion dappled with white. He led the animal to her and waited for her to mount so that he could mount behind her.

Seeming to sense the tension in the two warring parties, the stallion gave a haughty toss of his head and danced uneasily to the side a pace. Eoghan patted his flank and spoke a comforting word.

“I expect a woman who can command knives like you could mount a horse.” He observed with some acidity. His ill-mood brought back by the relentless cold. “Do you need my assistance?”