"Take advantage of?"
"I was going to say romance, but...that taking advantage part is fun too."
"Mothers lock up your daughters," Reiss sighed.
Lunet laughed for a moment before shaking her head, "If you must know in your obstinately prying way, there is someone and she's...different. Special."
"Maker's breath," Reiss' stance faded as she stood dumbstruck, "Do not tell me the lusty Lunet has gone and fallen in love."
"Psh," she tried to wave it away, but a cherry flush burst along her bronzed cheeks. Turning the tables back on Reiss, Lunet lashed a punch out and asked, "What about you? We never talk abut your love life."
"Pretty pointless to talk about nothing," Reiss said, deflecting the punch slower than she should have. "Oh look, that nothing's still sitting there doing nothing. Good for it."
"You wander by the alienage every now and again," Lunet pointed out. While she only dipped in when on business or necessary, Reiss preferred to spend her downtime amongst her own. There was a small two chairs/one table restaurant that served the most amazing dumplings in all of Ferelden, and best of all there were no shems to watch. "Tell me one of the strapping young men there caught your eye."
Reiss growled, punching through the air as if it personally spat on her. Lunet dodged but barely, as Reiss felt thick air skimming above her knuckles. She liked Lunet because the woman could talk to fill every silence Reiss left wide open, happily tossing in bon mots or observations about life and every piece of shit that came with it. But when Lunet turned her fiery focus on Reiss she wanted to cower away and wave it off on someone else.
"What about the King?"
"The wha...?" Reiss' need to disembowel the air vanished to shock, her fists hanging free as she stared at her friend.
Lunet lifted her shoulder in a shrug, "Did he catch your eye?"
"For the Maker's sake! I was a bit busy what with the assassins and then, you know, his kids right there. I don't know," Reiss shouted, throwing her arms up in the air and obliterating her entire stance. "He's fine for a shem, I guess."
"Very well, I'll stop picking. Doubtful you'll be seeing him or anyone else royal ever again," Lunet said, dropping her own hands.
Reiss snorted at that truth. She was only tossed up onto the stage beside him and the rest of his entourage because Davis fell ill, Matchkins got his damn head stuck in the floorboard again, and Oless refused to go anywhere near the King thinking she'd accidentally behead him or something. The elf wasn't really trusted enough to be let near nobility, but everyone figured it'd be an easy job standing around in the hot sun watching nobles stuff themselves until their silks burst. Maker, if she hadn't reacted without thinking who knows what would have happened.
A mewling drew her attention away from Lunet and as Reiss turned, she spotted a grey shadow moving through the shrubbery sprouting over the wall. Smiling, Reiss reached into her pocket to find something that remained from a dinner. Armed with a piece of cheese, she lifted up the branches to reveal a set of golden eyes glittering in anticipation of the promised vittles. Holding her hand flat, sharp teeth gently picked it free and a purring rumbled up from the cat's gut. After giving her offering, Reiss was free to pet across the acres of grey fur.
"What are you doing with that mangy thing?" Lunet asked, leaning back.
"She's not mangy," Reiss spoke in her baby voice to the kitty. "She stops by every now and again, sometimes sits up on the overhang and watches me. I feed her, pet her, scratch her ears," Reiss explained the basics of what one does with a cat.
"Is that hygienic?" Lunet asked, "You don't know where its been."
"It's a cat, Lune. They tend to go wherever they want," Reiss chuckled. As she extended her hand, the cat rose up, stretching her spine to guide the fingers to the best spot. Secretly, she called the cat Sylaise enjoying the idea of something so elven slipping in and out of the guardhouse unnoticed by the shems. She looked well cared for, but it was possible Sylaise was scamming others for food as was becoming for a cat.
Having finished with the elf, Sylaise stretched across the wall plopping her grey body right into a sunbeam as her tail twitched up and down to frame the stones. Reiss pulled her hand back and watched the kitty, "When I was working on the farm, there was this mouser cat that slept in the same barn as me. Every damn night that mean ol' tom would wake me by scratching across my face so he could steal the warm spot where I was sleeping. I get it in my head to try and make a peace offering, so I'd keep a small piece of my meal in my pocket and give it to the tom."
"Wherein he left you alone and you two became best friends," Lunet interrupted.
Reiss turned around, an eyebrow raising as she eyed her up, "You've never had a cat, have you? No, all I did was teach the damn thing that it deserved to be pampered with a free meal and if he didn't get it...whack, even more scratches across my face."
Her fingers rubbed up and down Sylasie's back, getting more purring for her effort, "Cats don't deal, they take whatever they want without regard for the people around them."
"A bit like shems then," Lunet said aloud what Reiss often thought. Even still, she whipped her head around at her friend and narrowed her eyes. "What? We're completely alone. If I can't talk about how exhausting humans are with you, where can I?"
She understood the thought, but Reiss was trained to hold her tongue under any circumstances. Lunet grew up in an alienage, one north in Highever, and was surrounded at all times by elves. Whenever Reiss felt her tongue about to wag she'd remember her mother flicking her in the back of the ear and saying "Do not speak ill of them. Hurting one turns them all upon us." Still, sometimes it was very tempting.
A loud noise rattled down the usually quiet streets of their district, causing Sylaise to shriek and leap back to her secret shrubbery. "What in the Maker...?" Lunet began when a carriage of all things rolled around the corner. Banners flapped off the ends each decorated with the seal of Ferelden. Reiss and Lunet exchanged a look as their guard captain leapt out of the house to try to stand at attention.
"At least he put his pants on," Lunet observed, both of them with their chins upon the wall trying to peer out through the bushes to see whoever disembarked from the fancy wagon.
It wasn't until the door flew open that they got a good look at the design painted on it and Reiss felt her heart drop to her stomach. A bright gold crown painted against a shield of red: it was a royal coach. Their guard captain reached out to pat the shoulders of a woman in fancy armor stepping out. Reiss couldn't watch what happened next, she was shrinking back, her worst nightmares playing behind her eyes.
"Oh yes, do that weird cheek kiss thing you do to the woman who looks like she'll hurtle you through the wall," Lunet kept up her commentary to herself, "That's a brilliant idea, Ser..." Her voice trailed off as she turned back to catch Reiss doing her damnedest to not hyperventilate on her feet.
"Rye," she called out to her, "what's wrong?"
"You don't...do you think they're here for me?" she gasped, struggling to yank her suddenly too tight tunic collar so she could breathe.
"They're from the castle, why'd they be here for you?" Lunet asked, before gasping, "Oh shit, what did you do?"
"It wasn't, I..." Reiss screwed up her eyes and thought back to the King leaving her in charge of his children. "I had to protect the princess and prince, you know."
"Yeah, I saw the baby shit sloshing around in your helmet. Can they not afford nappies in the palace or something?"
Reiss shook off Lunet's side jokes, her vision winnowing as she spat out her confession. "I was on high alert, you know. Trust no one and...Maker's sake, how could I know who he was? I'd never met any of the nobility before and..." She sucked in a breath, her fingers grasping for something to hold.
Spinning away from the wall, Lunet snatched up her hand and almost guided her to a bench like an old woman. "Rye, by the void, what happened?"
"There was a knock on the door, a shadow and a voice called out. I didn't know w
ho it was and, fearing he came for the children, I...sort of, um," Reiss twisted her fingers around, a nail thudding along each of her many calluses, "threatened the Arl of Redcliffe's life."
"Oooh shit," Lunet gasped, her palms spread across her lips.
"And held a sword to his throat," she folded in on herself. In the confusion, Reiss hoped that everyone forgot about all of that. Once the princess smiled and threw her arms around the woman with him, Reiss yanked her sword back and apologized profusely. But there it was, she - an elf - held her blade in a threatening position against the throat of one of the most powerful men in Ferelden. The bare facts caused her shoulders to shake as she crumpled to a ball.
"Rye, come on," Lunet patted against her, "it's not. I mean, what are the chances they can pick one of use knife ears out of a pack? We all look the same to 'em."
That was true. She rose up, confidence shoring up her wobbly knees as she looked Lunet in the eye. Humans often had troubles telling elves apart. Maybe there was hope she could get away with her life at least.
"It's okay. In fact, I bet they're not even here for you. Probably gonna congratulate the Fatain on saving the king even though he was back here dousing his mustache in lard."
"You..." Reiss patted her fingers, and gulped, "You're sure?"
"Positive," Lunet beamed, her smile widening as she ramped up that elegant beauty to eleven. It made no sense, but somehow that calmed Reiss's jitters. She was right, it was not a problem. They'd speak with the captain and then move on back to the palace district where they belonged.
Reiss slipped an arm around her friend's side to hug her when the ramshackle door to the training grounds burst open. Captain Fettan stood rod straight as he gazed over at the pair of them quickly sliding apart. Her boss' grumble about those damn lady loving elves wasn't what melted Reiss' spine, but the calculating eyes of a woman easily twice the size of her sizing up the shrinking elf.
Nodding once, the woman boomed, "I am here for Ser Reiss."
"Or maybe I'm wrong," Lunet whispered under her breath.
"Which of you is...?" she asked, glancing from the dark haired beauty to the scrubbed plain blonde as if they were carbon copies of each other.
Reiss felt Lunet slide forward, as if she was about to throw herself on her own sword for a friend, but Reiss couldn't let her. Grabbing onto Lunet's arm, she yanked her back and announced without any wobble in her voice, "I am."
"Good, your presence is required at the palace."
"Oh, okay," Reiss nodded, trying to not picture a giant pit opening up below her. "Uh, right now then?"
"Yes, unless you have some other requirement...?" the woman looked back at the captain who lifted his hands and shrugged.
"Right," Reiss glanced over at Lunet and began to shuffle towards her doom. She felt like she should extend her hands to be manacled, but there wasn't much point. She was already as good as dead. "I can go with you now."
"Good," the woman clapped her once on the shoulder before tugging her towards the door, through the house full of her fellow guards all gawping, and into the carriage to ride to her end. Before she was yanked away, Reiss shot a single look at Lunet and feared it'd be the last.
CHAPTER FOUR
The King & I
She was dead. The entire trip through the ramshackle boroughs up to the gilded palace district her handler didn't speak a word, but she kept one eye on the road and another upon the guard stuffed into the carriage beside her. The same guard who was suddenly aware that she was dressed in her underarmor. With filthy cuffs, split hems, and trousers stained in equal parts blood and muck there was no chance she was being taken to see the King for a hearty thanks. People who met royalty were buffed and shined within an inch of their life so they could pass under the easily disgusted noble nose. Nope, Reiss was certain she reached the end of her rope. All that remained was the final snap to finish it off.
Staggering through the palace grounds, she had to keep from glancing around at the architecture that lifted up to the sky. The ceiling was so high she couldn't make out if there were any stains on it. I wonder how they dust it, Reiss thought to herself. No hands jammed into her back to keep her moving, but a few of the royal guards in their far more intimidating armor stood noticeably close. Whenever she slowed to stare up at a statue and wonder how easily it could tip over and crush her, the guards would stop a foot behind and wait with fingers upon their hilts. No one checked her for weapons, no one thought she was of any concern. That thought almost made her snicker. How like shems to assume the elf was helpless. But, given the arms all around her and the fact she didn't have a dagger on her person, they were accurate. This time.
Her handler paused outside a set of doors large enough to close off the alienage gates. The woman ran her fingers through her hair and tried to fluff up the peplum clinging to her hips. It seemed unnecessary as the woman bore thighs that looked like they could crush a man's skull clean open, that fact evident even below her skirts. But there was fashion to maintain, apparently. Absently, Reiss patted her messy bun and drew away five strands of straw. Maker, how much more was stuck in there and no one said anything?
There wasn't time for her to look as the handler threw open the doors to reveal the infamous Ferelden Throne Room. She'd only ever seen one other throne room before, but that was different. While it sat an impressive chair, the owner kept it more relaxed baring tables always stacked with food to provide sustenance to those both common and noble lingering around. This place sparkled, every breath echoed against the walls and floors. It felt as if she stepped inside a priceless porcelain vase that could crack with a single misplaced footstep. Guiltily, Reiss glanced down at her shoes to find mud and muck from the grounds had followed her tracks and now a clump of horse manure clung to a mabari mosaic embedded into the floor. She wanted to bend down to clean it off, but the handler paused in the middle of the room and shouted.
"Your Majesty!"
Three sets of heads lifted at the end of the room, none of which sat in the chair at the top of a handful of stairs. They'd been in a rapt discussion that faded quickly as the blonde one shouted, "Maker's breath, Karelle, get over here. I'm not spending the whole time screaming across the gap."
Karelle bobbed her head at the King's command and without glancing back at her prisoner, stepped across a line. There was no physical barrier, but the stone bricks changed from a slightly grey to a white as if that was how far common muck were supposed to get near the seat of power. The King however seemed unused or uncertain about such tradition judging by the scuffs in the floor that paced from one end to the other.
Following her eyes, Reiss realized that the guards that stood behind her remained back at the door. She was technically alone as the handler sidled up to her King; she could escape. All she had to do was leap up the polished pillars to land upon a wooden rafter, scurry across a foot wide beam and then squeeze her body out a hole that could at best accommodate a cat. Oh, and all without making a noise and before anyone thought to glance back at her. No problem whatsoever.
She was deader than dead.
Trying to hang her head in shame, with a million apologies to the Arl clinging to her tongue, Reiss slid closer to the clump of people with blood bluer than lyrium. Over the mumbling crested the King's voice, it bore a nasally timbre that oddly wasn't unpleasant. Anyone else and that almost mucus sound would grate but it worked for him. Perhaps it was the lightness mixed within. If sunshine itself could have a voice, it'd probably sound like the ruler of Ferelden. Reiss snickered at herself, the mind came up with strange thoughts when one was walking to her doom.
Stopping behind the handler's massive shoulders, Reiss lifted her head and waited for the end. After nodding at something the others said, the King glanced over at her and his lips widened. "I see you brought Ser Reiss with you, Karelle. Good job."
"No need to be patronizing, Sire," Karelle bit back. "It was a simple matter."
The King didn't lash out at his underling's tongue, o
nly rolled his eyes and shook his head back and forth. Karelle passed whatever papers she'd been fiddling with in the carriage ride over to him, which he flipped through at first quickly before pausing and returning to a line. No one seemed to be in any hurry to damn Reiss to the executioner's axe, they were probably enjoying watching her twist in the wind. Strange, she didn't spot the Arl of Redcliffe mixed among the crowd.
"Do you require me to explain the bigger words?" Karelle asked after a time, drawing the King from the papers.
"Ho, ho, see what I have to put up with?" he asked point blank to Reiss. She paled at the focus and slowly shook her head, feeling a tremble begin in her lip. Maker's breath, just shoot me already and get it over with!
"Right, okay, Ser Reiss--."
"That's not accurate, Your Majesty," she spoke up then winced at interrupting a King. But a part of her worried that it may all be some test, or his wrath could increase tenfold when he learned the truth later.
For his part, the King only blinked slowly then turned back to the papers, "What was what?"
"I..." her voice dipped lower into her throat, struggling to be heard. Anywhere else in Ferelden it'd have faded away to nothing, but in this echo chamber it reverberated across every shiny stone. "I've never been knighted. Your Highness. I'm only a Corporal." She winced after finishing it.
"Oh," he folded up the papers and banged them together in his hand. For a brief moment he glanced over at his no doubt advisors and shrugged. "Sorry about that, Corporal Reiss. Maker, that's a mouth full. Major Reiss, that's got a better ring to it. Sounds a bit like majorities. Major Reason..."
It was idiotic but a small chuckle broke in her throat from the King playing around with her name as if he hadn't summoned her to answer for the unanswerable, as if she wasn't facing a most likely swift and bloody end. Anywhere else, from anyone else she might almost find it endearing. A gruff cough paused the King's rumination and he turned to the man hiding in the shadows. Reiss' brief candle had the wick slit in half as the Commander of the royal guards stepped closer to the King. If Commander Cade was involved she was beyond praying to be saved. Now she could only beg for a quick end.
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