Here, have a couple snippits. Completely un-beta-ed and I reserve the right to change things, yadda yadda.
~*~
"So, do you think they'll let us just waltz out of here without an escort?" Elisara asked. "Or are we just not going to mention to anyone where we're going, and show up at dinner like nothing happened?"
"A little of both, actually," Nathaniel replied. "I've found that the guards are much less likely to bar me from doing things if I simply walk around like I own the place. It's when I start trying to become unnoticed that I actually attract more attention."
"Yes, I can see where that could be effective..." Elisara mused. "Wouldn't work for me though. I have... a bit of a reputation around Highever."
He cleared his throat awkwardly. "Er, yes. I suppose that would be... problematic."
It would be extremely rude for Nathaniel to point out that her "reputation" far exceeded the boundaries of her father's teyrnir. Never mind that he actually
liked Elisara, regardless of what the rumor mill said about her. Or Father. Father's dislike of her actually pleased him on some level, and made the stories about her all the more interesting. Now that Marian was gone... though he would have never wished her dead, let alone at the hands of common bandits... now that she was gone, he was no longer betrothed. The closest Father had ever come to discussing a match between Cousland and Howe however was his occasional mocking reference to Thomas's ridiculous fascination with Elisara.
"I ran into your little brother, earlier," Apparently just thinking about Thomas was enough to bring his name up in conversation.
"Did you?" One side of his mouth turned to a sardonic grin. As they approached, one of the guards standing nearby saluted him before moving to open the outer keep door. Nathaniel nodded in appreciation, then addressed Elisara again. "And to think, your boots don't even look like they've been soaked in drool."
She laughed. "That's only because I wasn't wearing these boots. I swear, as soon as he lays eyes on me his brain shuts down and his tongue takes over! At least I tell myself it's his tongue. It wouldn't be ladylike of me to think otherwise." Her smirk was nothing if not unladylike.
Now it was Nate's turn to laugh. "I'm glad you see him for what he is."
"A foolish boy who drinks way too much and then goes to his room to fantasize about me?"
"Uh, well," Nate stammered. "I can agree with you about the drinking part anyway. The fantasizing, that I prefer not to think about!"
"Did you know he was already drunk when we arrived? Maker, it takes a lot of ale to be that besotted by noon."
"You have to understand." Nathaniel knew he should probably at least put up a token defense for his brother. "Thomas rarely indulges in anything less than rotgut whiskey. Being drunk while still being able to function when called upon is his one skill in life. We're loathe to take it away from him." So much for that idea.
Both of them were laughing as they passed, unhindered, under the outer gate of the Vigil.
~*~
She was circling him now, staring him down, looking for an opening. Their friendly competition had been going on for some time now, but Elisara showed no sign of tiring. Spotting some bit of his defenses give way, Elisara lunged at him, stabbing him in the gut with her fur-wrapped blade. He twisted, slashing her across the back, or would have if his blade hadn't been similarly wrapped. Suddenly, her foot lashed out at him, attempting to take him out at the knees. With an awkward sidestep, he missed the brunt of the blow but the whole maneuver had set him off balance. When Elisara caught wind of this, she pounced like a cat on a mouse. She slammed her shoulder into him, knocking him painfully to the ground.
"Ow!" Nathaniel exclaimed. "By the Maker woman, you fight like a common street thug!"
"Real battle won't be like a tournament, you know." Elisara offered him her hand and helped him to his feet. "All that matters is survival. And taking down more of the other side's forces, of course. But survival generally comes first when you're the one in the thick of things."
"Naturally, but surely they don't expect you to actually fight in a battle someday."
Her glare turned venomous. "Really. You think not? Might I ask why?"
"Well..." Maker's Blood, now he'd done it. "Uh, you'd have your father's forces for that, wouldn't you? Or the soldiers sworn to... wherever you end up living. When you're grown. I mean, when, uh..."
"When I'm
married." She said the word like it was a curse. "Is that what you meant to say,
ser?"
"...it's not an unreasonable statement, you know," Nathaniel continued, trying not to trip over his own tongue. "The beautiful daughter of a teyrn, strong, smart, able to beat the snot out of any man that crosses her path... you're quite the catch, you know." Her icy glare continued.
"Or, at least, that's what I'd like to think. Maybe I'm crazy. Yep, that's me, Crazy Ol' Nate, living out on the woods chewing on bark and wrapped in uncured furs. There, now, does that make you feel better?"
Elisara's face relaxed, and he even thought he may have seen her smile sightly. "Is that really what you think?"
"That I'm crazy?" He grined broadly. "Oh, most definitely. Have you met the rest of my family? We all come from Crazy Stock."
"No..." She pulled her eyes from his gaze, focusing intently on a nearby tuft of grass. "That I'm beautiful and strong and all that rubbish."
"Why would I say it were it not true?"
"Because you're crazy, by your own admission." She put her fisted hands on her hips, still holding her daggers. "I can hardly put faith in the words of a crazy man."
He swallowed nervously. "Well then... then I suppose I had a fleeting moment of sanity there." The day was wearing on. Soon enough, they would be back among the hustle and bustle of the Vigil. Maybe listening to the whims of Crazy Ol' Nate wasn't such a bad idea. He carefully placed his dagger on the ground before closing the distance between himself and Elisara. She didn't move, but at least she consented to meet his gaze. Her eyes felt like green pools of fire, burning into him.
"Best be careful, now," he said as he cautiously slid his hand along the side of her head. Some strange instinct screamed at him to stop, but he ignored it. "I think I feel the crazies coming back." It was too late to hold back now. Bending down slightly, softly touching his lips to hers. The fire he felt at her touch leaped in intensity when not only did she not pull away, she pressed her body close and wrapped her arms around him. He heard her daggers as they hit the ground, having fallen forgotten from her hands. His kiss was returned with more ardor than he had thought to find.
Lidded eyes gazed back at him as he pulled away. "You know," she said, her voice low and sultry, "I think I could come to like Crazy Nate."
Modifié par odiedragon, 29 avril 2010 - 02:09 .
She'll grow up soon however, I promise!
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I drive my beta NUTS, which is part of the joy of this. 
