From Peasant to Hero (MaliciousLullaby and DudeMeister)

The golden rays of the sun peaked over the stone and mortared castle walls as dawn approached. Despite the pleasant and picturesque view of the red and gold sky that could be seen from the higher towers, not all could enjoy it. Long before sunrise, Ulric was attending to his daily tasks without the benefit of a full night's sleep, or even a piece of moldy bread to break his fast. Right after being kicked awake by the horse master, he was set to cleaning the stables and feeding the horses. However that was the easy part. The clan's resident blacksmith and armorer informed Ulric that two horseshoe's from the mare of the lord's daughter have fractured, and they had to be removed and reforged. Although the smith started the furnace by the time the sun rose, it was Ulric's task to take the horseshoes off...which was easier said then done. One horseshoe was hard enough to take off thanks to her stubborn steed's tendency to rear up and kick him, but two could be the end of him. After suffering a few bruises to his forearm and gut, he finally got them off and brought them to the forge. The blacksmith placed them in the furnace and pulled them out when they were red hot, and both stableboy and armorer hammed away to reshape them and plunged them in oil to temper it. Now came the difficult task to put the shoes BACK on the spirited mare, and it had to be done before the lord's daughter took her daily ride.

Within the hour the tasks were done, and after polishing her saddle and strapping it to her horse, he lead it out of the stables, presenting it to her rider as he wiped off his sweaty brow with his forearm. Although he was a stableboy of 14 years, he was handsome, with blue eyes inset to a long and elegant face. His messy brown hair came down to mid neck, and he wore the tattered clothing of his trade.

RE: From Peasant to Hero

Thick velvet drapes left open allowed the golden rays of the sunlight to peak into her room, illuminating the room and stirring her from her slumber. Thick brunette locks lay strewn over her pillows as she turned onto her back and stunning hazel eyes that were almost icy blue fluttered open. Her head turned the side and she breathed a deep sigh through her nose before rubbing the tired from her eyes. She slept like a baby. Like she always did.

Elarinya was the eldest and only daughter of Lord Mulberry. Her mother passed away a few years ago, robbed of her life by a sickness that plagued the lands on and off. He never remarried and she was always so thankful for that. Since then, all the more especially as if to make up for the lack of her mother, Lord Mulberry spoiled his daughter even more than she already was. She wasn’t snooty but she knew she was special and her father always reminded her. She loved her life, she was extremely talented and learned in all the arts she ever wanted to do. Singing, dancing, music, drawing, art, literature—anything and everything. She did it well and she knew it too. But underneath all that confidence, she was a sweet girl, an innocent one who didn’t know beyond what she was taught and had learned. Other things, other worldly things, she was like that of a child. But she carried herself so maturely for a girl just half a year shy of fourteen.

After her usual morning routine, taking a bath, getting dressed, prayer, eating breakfast and then doing her daily routine of meeting with her teachers and learning more by the book, it was finally time for her ride on Clover, her beautiful steed whom she loved. And well, sadly, her only friend. She didn’t have any friends. No one was too crazy about her. Even more, Elarinya knew that it was because of how she acted, her demeanor and that it was very off-putting. She was just sure of herself and okay, yes, she did act like a bit of a snob quite often. Maybe she knew, or maybe she just wanted to be her best and wanted to show her best, let the world see her at her best. She didn’t know. After all, she was only thirteen, going on fourteen. She’d learn. She wouldn’t complain. She had a loving father and the best riding horse ever, better than any human companion. So all in all, she had it all. So she told herself.

The young Lady wore a beautiful dress and even though her father often reprimanded her of it, she still rode in them. It was a red dress with gold flecks and filigree, corseted and clearly made for a lady of her stature and status. Her long wavy hair lay down over her shoulder and she was waiting outside with a flower she plucked in her clean hands. Looking up, those almost like blue-ice hazel eyes caught sight of Clover and she ran to her, still clutching the flower. “Oh Clover!” She hardly noticed the stable boy who presented her beautiful mare to her, bowing before the magestic beauty before approaching her and cradling her, kissing between her eyes. She looked at peace, happy and serene.

Even if she was ignoring the boy who had redone her shoes and so wonderfully, kindly and gallantly tended to her Clover.

RE: From Peasant to Hero

It was no sooner that Ulric lead Lady Mulberry's mare out that her rider came and greeted it, dearly embracing its muzzle. Clover herself was happy to see her, bowing it's head to allow her to caress her and run her fingers through her mane as it neighed softly and pawed at the ground...but it was Ulric who stepped away quickly as soon as her front hoof lifted. He took a few good hits, and he couldn't afford to work with broken toes today. Clearing his throat and gently holding out the reigns for Lady Mulberry to take them, he had some last minute advice to give her...wether or not she would listen to him was another matter. She was a highborn noble, destined to marry a lord or knight, while he was a dirty and smelly stableboy.

"M'lady, the blacksmith and I reforged her shoes and replaced them this morning, but the mare will need time to get used to them. Break them in if you will. I suggest that you don't spur her into a fast gallop, and mind where you lead her through rocky terrain." he advised, as politely as his stableboy manners would allow.

RE: From Peasant to Hero

It was a lovely reunion with Clover, even if she did just ride her the day before. Elarinya always went out for a ride because while she was only learning to better herself and be the best she can and was able to be, it was a very nice and deserving reprieve. While on a peaceful and blissful ride on Clover, she could let herself go and let herself sift away. Out there, she wasn’t Lady Mulberry. She was just…Elarinya.

Turning her attention from Clover to the stable boy, she smiled a grateful smile and nodded her head. “Thank you. I appreciate you both for taking care of her so diligently.” She bowed her head, turning to Clover and then mounting her. She never rode side-saddle the way she had been taught. She rode with one leg on either side. It was comfortable and she felt more free. As she took the reigns in her hands, she looked at him and smiled. “Thank you again Ulric.” With that, she turned and took off with Clover, letting her walk.

Yes, she made it a point to know everyone’s names. Names, she was very good with. And she never forgot any name. Never.

RE: From Peasant to Hero

Ulric smiled slightly as Lady Mulberry thanked him and took the reigns. It was nice that she remembered his name. He waved as she saddled up and trotted her mare towards the main gate. Most of the other servants, squires, and stable boys said that she was stuck up: no more than a pampered selfish bitch who did nothing but powder her face and look at herself in the mirror. Ulric felt otherwise. In his dealings with her she seemed to be a decent person, grateful for the care he provided her horse.

The rest of the day was spent running from place to place doing chore after chore. Everyone at the castle from servant to steward had work to do, but the heaviest of workloads was shoved upon Ulric. He would tend to the horses, work the furnaces with the blacksmith, carry crate after crate of supplies, and everything that was ordered of him. Everybody knew that Ulric was a bastard, left at the south gate of Mulberry Castle some 14 years ago, but no note was left with his basket. Nobody knew who his mother or father was, and that was perhaps why he was so overworked. He did his best to pull his own weight even if he was treated harshly, but every day he allowed himself to indulge in one pleasure, one dream that was just beyond his grasp. Every day after his labors were done he would watch the squires and knights train in the courtyard under the watchful eyes of the clan's master-at-arms, and today was no different. After many hours of toiling left and right he snuck as quietly as he could and watched the older battle-hardened knight Rowan Vester instruct the squires, a man of 60 years, yet built like a bull, his thick black hair and scraggy beard only just beginning to grey. Ulric snuck like a cat to spy on them from around the corner of the forge, the armor leaving his blackened hammer on the anvil for the day. He had to keep such secrecy otherwise Sir Vester would beat him. Low-borns were not allowed to know the ways of the sword, the secrets of steel were reserved for nobleman only. A snot-nosed bastard like himself would become a mercenary should he learn to fight, a thug who hired himself out to the highest bidder.

At least that was the reasoning Sir Vestor gave him when he caught him last, and Ulric learned quickly that he had to be clandestine.

Often times when she rode out with Clover, she held conversations. She was on of those young ladies who enjoyed her alone time with Clover. She always had alone time as it is but this time with her horse was nice. She remembered the day she was given this horse. Clover was just a baby, really, and her mother taught her how to care for him. Really, this horse was Elarinya’s best friend. Okay, that was kind of really sad. But she didn’t dare think about that. No use in getting herself down.
“Do you think I can have friends Clover?” She asked softly, petting his mane.
He responded with a loud neigh as if with objection. She giggled. “You’ll always be my best friend Clover. No one else could possibly compare.” She kissed the top of his head.

They ventured into the forests like they always did. She carried on with conversations and loved that Clover responded in his own way. That’s why she liked to talk to him so much.
That day should have been like any other day. But it wasn’t. Apparently, wild wolves ventured into the forest and picked up on their trail. Elarinya was only tipped off about it when she heard growling and they gathered around, growling, snarling and looking like they were so excited and eager for the bountiful of fresh meat awaiting them; i.e. her and Clover.

She froze and swallowed hard, her heart pounding and racing. When one leapt, she screamed and pulled the reigns, turning Clover and kicked her legs against her sides as a giddy-up for Clover to set off back towards their estate grounds. He did but a wolf managed to grab a chunk off of him. Elarinya screamed again and kicked the wolf off hard, the heel of her shoe doing some damage. She gave Clover the giddy-up again and he set off as fast as he could.

The wolves started after them and she kept giving her horse the encouragement needed to make him go faster and faster. She knew he shouldn’t be going this fast since he had just gotten new shoes but it was a matter of life and death. The fence that guarded their estate from the freedom of the woods came into view and the door that was open earlier was now shut. Clover was going to have to jump. Leaning forward, she pet his mane. “You can do it boy.” She encouraged but when she brought her hand to the reigns from his mane, she saw blood. Lots of blood. Tears pooled in her eyes and she bit down on her lower lip. “You can do it boy.” Her voice broke, she choking back a sob.

And Clover did but it took a lot out of him because just after they made it over the fence, a few more gallops and he collapsed, a loud gruff grunt coming from him. Elarinya fell off to the side as well but ignored her pain as she rushed to her horse, petting him. She looked up and could see the trail of blood, his blood. She looked down at him and his breathing was becoming shallow and slow. “Clover?” She whimpered, her eyes watering up again. She sniffled and stayed by him the entire time until he breathed his last breath. Elarinya stayed where she was, in the grass, crying and holding him. She was there for a while, even until the sun had gone down.

Ulric watched quietly as the squires sparred in the courtyard, looking carefully in an attempt to pick up some of the moves they were using. Sir Vestor left them a few minutes ago to their own devices, and they pretty much were content to whack at each other with wild abandon. Ulric couldn't help but let out a laugh when Rowan conked Gerald upside the head, sending Sir Vestor's son to the ground.

"Oy, and what's this? A little shit taking a gander at swordplay?" called a familiar and harsh voice. Sir Vestor saw Ulric crouching around the corner of the forge, and picked him up by the hair, swatting him across the face with a backhand

"Do you think it's funny you little shit? Don't you dare laugh at your betters you swine!" Vestor barked, his putrid breath fuming past his yellowed teeth as Ulric cowered in fear.

"I'm sorry m'lord, I was only watching, I didn't intend to laugh" Ulric replied fearfully, his hands coming up defensively.

"What did I tell you about watching my boys train? With how many beatings I've given you, I'm surprise my hand didn't turn brown you little shit, but than again some people never learn" he said, raising his hand to strike the stableboy again.

From the forge came a bellowing and cantankerous roar that could only mean one thing: Gus woke up. The old armorer was a portly man with a thick grey beard that was usually blackened from the fires of his forge, and he came out of his workplace hobbling and swinging his hammer about and dressed in nothing but his breeches and an untied blacksmith's apron. Sir Vestor was a seasoned knight who rode into battle many times for his liege, but even he didn't want anything to do with Gus when he had his hammer out.

"Don't you go beatin' my apprentice you overgrown windbag. You know it was he who helped me repair the blades your brainless squires keep nicking. Have they any better sense than to block with the sharp edge? The blades are already dull and feeble as their under grown cocks" Gus roared, his gold tooth shining as he growled at the knight. He was only a blacksmith, but he cared little for rank or station. He was responsible for arming every soldier in Lord Mulberry's host, and his work was valued. Although he treated Ulric little better than Sir Vestor, he and the old knight inevitably got into heated arguments. Gus liked yelling at the highborn knights almost as much as he liked to swing his hammer, but he'd never admit it. This argument went on for a while, until the hurried footsteps of Lady Mulberry's tutor rushed towards them.

"Lady Mulberry is missing. She's been gone all day and hasn't returned. The lord his organizing a searching party, and they need every knight, stableboy and hunter that can be spared" she said, panicking.

Vestor and Gus called a temporary truce as the old knight and the squires scrambled away to arm themselves and prepare there mounts, and Ulric made for the stables. It was so stupid of him, he should have alerted someone when Lady Mulberry failed to return at her customary time. If the worst should happen and the Lady was killed by wolves, it would be his head that would be next.

"Hey boy! You might need this!" Gus yelled as he tossed Ulric a sheathed dirk. Momentarily unsheathing the long knife midway, he tied it to the back of his belt as he saddled up a courser with a black pelt. It was a more prized horse than Ulric deserved to ride, more for a knight than a common stable boy, but he knew from experience that this steed was agile and swift. The lord and what seemed like a mighty hunting party rode out, Ulric on his courser, and Vestor and his two squires on the heavy destriers. They were heavy set horses, prized and perfect for open battle, but not as swift as Ulric's mount. As the sun set and darkness began to set in, Ulric spotted the outline of a dead horse. Ulric knew it was Clover. He brushed his mane, and suffered many a bruise and broken rib from his hooves, he knew for sure it was him. He stuck two fingers into his mouth to whistle, signaling the rest of the searching party. When the torches from the searching party closed in towards him he made out the silhouette of Lady Mulberry, her arms thrown over her dead steed. That was when they all heard the loud howling of wolves, and the outline of a pack of at least 20 of them descending upon the field of grass like foreboding shadow of death.

Ulric gazed in horror as the wolf pack closed in on Elarinya and her dead horse. The rest of the party was behind him, and the knights were on heavier and slower warhorses, and they would never reach her in time. Ulric drove his heels into his horse sending it into a speeding gallop, knowing that his only chance to save her would be to reach her before the hungry pack closed in on them.

By now, Clover had long passed. By now, Elarinya was swimming with grief. She was probably being a petulant little cry baby because she was mourning greatly over the loss of her horse, her best friend and companion, but in her mind she didn’t think so. Not when she helped raising Clover from a baby to the proud steed he had been. But he was gone now and it was heartbreaking, especially since she wasn’t smarter enough to realize about wolves. She could have prevented this. And Clover would still be alive.

The sun had gone down and darkness engulfed them and the entire scenery. Elarinya didn’t want to leave Clover. She was so out of it, she had been out there for so long, crying herself into oblivion that she ended up falling asleep, especially when it hadn’t even been the most safest place. They were maybe a few good feet, say about nine or ten feet, away from the fence and relatively safe but that was until the wolves came back for more. They’d jumped over the fence which wasn’t very high at all. Just a fence that was enough to keep anyone out but not high enough that a wolf or a horse couldn’t jump over. They had surrounded her and Clover and their growling was what roused her from her exhausting slumber.

Elarinya gasped and she stayed closer to Clover, protecting him so that these wolves couldn’t have him. She tried to kick one away but they snagged on the hem of her dress. She screamed again and kicked her leg harder this time, into another wolf at the same time and sending both away. She curled up closer to Clover, her eyes ablaze with horror and her impending death. First Clover and now her. And she hadn’t even turned fifteen, fallen in love, kissed a boy for the first time, none of the things she always dreamed she might.

His many years as a stableboy made Ulric a skilled rider. Upon seeing that the wolves surrounded Elarinya, he spurred his horse even harder, hoping to get to her before it was too late. His black courser galloped at full speed, the many muscles in it's legs elongating and contracting in a swift gate, trampling a few of the wild wolves. He shifted his weight so that he was leaning over the side of the saddle, holding his arm out to in an effort to reach for Lady Mulberry's hand. Finally he grabbed her hand and pulled her onto the saddle, his steed trampling through the sea of fangs.

At least he would have done that, if things gone according to plan...

The combination of him grabbing Elarinya's arm, his horse's mighty charge, and his unbalanced seat caused him to fall out of his saddle, being dragged to the ground alongside the Lady he was set on saving. He scrambled to his feet and pulled up lady Mulberry by the arm and hurried her over to the horse and helping her up before a black wolf pounced on him and began mauling him. It's teeth ripped into Ulric's arm, causing him to cry out in pain as he fought desperately for his life.

By then the platoon of torches came closer, and the two squires Rowan and Gerald drew their swords, but did nothing other than rear up their horses and watch with fear in their eyes. Both squires were green...destined to be knights. But they would both become knights by blood, not by deed. There would be no help from them. As the wolf's vice-like grip tightened on Ulric's arm, he desperately reached behind his back to draw the long dagger from his sheath, and drove it into the beasts' head numerous times, the blade drenched in red by the time he pulled it out for about the 5th time, kicking the dead carcass off of him and scrambling to his feet. The hand that clutched the dirk was trembling as he backed away toward the horse, almost sure of his impending demise...that was when Sir Vestor barreled in on his warhorse, longsword glinting in torchlight as he slashed at the beasts, his steed trampling on more wolves. The party came in time to rescue them, slaying the wolf pack. When it was all done Ulric collapsed panting heavily.

Her eyes managed to tear away from the sight of the wolves long enough to see someone on a horse coming for her. She squinted her eyes to focus them before seeing that it was Ulric. It all had happened so fast. One moment he was reaching for her and her hand shot out to meet his but by some sort of malfunction, he fell off the horse with her. Like making double time, she hurried with him to get back onto the horse before he was attacked, before Ulric was attacked. In her attempt to try and fend the wolf off of him, she got a side of her face scratched deeply. Her eyes shut and her hand came to cup her cheek, her eyes stinging with tears again.

And then just like that, it was over. The wolves were slayed because the knights finally decided to do their job, Ulric killed the wolf that had been trying to maul him and then passed out. She moved by his side, sort of half catching him and lying his head on her lap. Gently of course.

“Elarinya.” She hard the stern, deep and angry voice of her father and looked up to meet his expression. He was looking at her with anger. Her father was seething.
Ulric was taken by the servants to tend to his wounds. Clean him up and then a specialist to stitch him up. It was better to do it while he was asleep because the stitching up part wouldn’t be pretty, that’s for sure. In the mean time, while he was recovering, she was in her father’s office. Standing, with her hands clasped behind her back and wet eyes. She’d been crying. For the past hour her father had yelled at her. He called her names, thought she was stupid for even going out in the woods but the worst of all was even he blamed her for Clover’s death. Stating that she knew the woods was often the home to the wolves yet she kept going anyways. It was no one’s fault but her own that Clover was dead because she never listened.

When he was done, he told her that Ulric, the stable boy, would recover just fine but that she’d be in charge of him. She didn’t have a problem with it but it’d be a constant reminder of what she did. She brought the wolves to them, she killed her horse it was all her fault.
“Your mother would be so disappointed. Here I’m thinking, every single day you look just like her, are growing up to be just like her. Today, I was proven wrong. You’re nothing but a child. No grace. Nothing. You’re nothing like your mother.” But that was the worst of all. It was slicing deep into her, breaking her heart. “You may go now.” And with that dismissal, Elarinya left the room and she went downstairs to the servants’ quarters, towards Ulric’s room where he was resting. Knocking on the door, she opened it and looked at the specialist and the nurse with him. They were cleaning up and as if told by her father what her new duties were to learn responsibility, she was educated on how to clean his wounds, how to do his dressing and that he should be resting in bed for at least a whole day to avoid the wound opening up again.

With that said and gone, they left the room and she stood by the corner, looking out the window. She kept wiping at her eyes and swallowing the big lump in her throat. She had to get a grip. She had to find out what to do to make her father proud again. To see her mother in her once more.

Ulric was unconscious due to the loss of blood from the puncture wounds in his arm. Thankfully he was asleep during the whole stitching procedure, and although he would probably carry the scars for the rest of his life, he would retain the use of his arm and hand. After he was attended too, he was laid to rest in the infirmary on the softest bed he'd ever slept on.

Bright fingers of light crept through the open shutters as the morning of the next day came, and he slowly stirred. Blinking the blurriness from his eyes Ulric sat up slowly and inspected the bandage on his arm. The linens were clean enough, but he felt a certain tightness in the skin of his forearm, and understood that they must've stitched his wounds to stop the bleeding. Peering around he soon saw Lady Mulberry seated beside his bed, sleeping in the chair. Not wanting to stir her from her slumber, he kept quite, but for the first time noted her beauty. A lowly stableboy like himself wasn't allowed to look upon his lord's daughter like that...but he found himself taking advantage of the moment.

Eventually, Elarinya sat down in a chair but sat down next to the bed. The night wore on with clear signs that Ulric wasn’t waking up tonight. He needed his rest. When she rest her arms on the bed beside him, careful not to disturb him, she rest her head on it and was out instantly, asleep. The day exhausted her. Well rather, the whole being chased by wolves and Clover dying and then her father reprimanding her and also stating that the blame of Clover’s death was all on her. It broke her heart and the only life that understood her and loved her unconditionally was gone forever. Elarinya was all cried out and exhaustion was all that was left. It took her over.

That next morning, Elarinya was still asleep. It was uncommon and unusual to still be asleep but usually she had her main lady servant come to wake her up. Not today. Today, her only duty was to tend to Ulric. He might have been just a lowly stable boy but he was one to be kept under her father’s employ. He was more valuable than he knew.
Unaware that he had woken up, she stayed sleeping. Her head turned, she resting on her arms on her opposite cheek now, her hair falling over her face a little bit. She looked peaceful while asleep, serene and like the previous day’s events didn’t even bother her. Only in her sleep. She wanted to just sleep a while longer. Just a little bit more.

After a while of sitting quietly and gazing upon Elarinya, he decided that it would be best to get up and get to work. It was obvious that she wasn't getting up anytime soon and he was probably expected at either the stable or the forge. Besides it was improper for a stable boy to look upon a lady, he heard of servants loosing their heads for less. Ignoring the sharp pain in his arm from were the stitches tightened his skin, he quietly lifted the covers and crept out of bed. Spying his shirt, breeches, and boots on another chair, he quickly dressed and headed out to attend to the horses.

The shift of the bed caused her to wake up enough to find that the bed was empty. Elarinya sat up quickly and saw him leaving the room. She stood up and hurried out the door. No she was not going to let him escape from her watch and only prove she was as incompetent as her father said her to be. “Wait!” She spoke with a loud, booming voice full of determination. She picked up the skirt of her dress from the floor so she could move faster and cut him off swiftly. “Where do you think you’re going? You’re supposed to be resting. Father’s given you the clearance. And you’re not in trouble. I promise. You have to go back into bed.” She needed to say something to make him see reason, she knew staff could be incredibly stubborn. “Otherwise you’ll get severe lashings if you open up your wounds.”

As soon as Urlic placed his hand on the doorknob to leave, he heard Elarinya's voice. He turned around to her nervously, and heard her explain that he was cleared to rest until his arm healed.

"It's rather strange…I never had sick leave before." he said before he obeyed his lady's orders and sat in the chair next to his bed. After a few moments of rather awkward silence he decided that he'd do his best to offer his condolences.

"I'm sorry about what happened to your horse, I know he meant a lot to you. It's a miracle that you're alive, not everyone who was attacked by wolves lives to tell about it" he said

Elarinya stepped back as he moved to sit down and she swallowed hard, standing before him. Her hands were clasped in front of her and she looked away, standing in the awkward silence for now. She was still tired, exhausted really but she didn’t have the heart to sleep more. She needed to do her duty and take care of him.

Glancing at him tentatively, she nodded her head. “There is no need for condolences. What happened to Clover was my own fault. If I hadn’t ridden him out there, he’d still be alive and you wouldn’t have almost died.” She had blamed herself before, sure. After her father’s berating, she blamed herself completely, even for Ulric. “I am sorry I nearly got you killed. And for that, I am to do anything for you, within reason of course, until you are better and clear to work again.”

"Well, the death of a stableboy is nothing. I'm just happy that I was able to help. Still, I'm wonder why the squires didn't do anything to help once they were there." he said as he scratched his head questioningly.

"Once I'm well…perhaps you'd wish to start raising another pony? Maybe I can be of service in training it for you." he offered as politely as he could.

Elarinya looked at him and she sighed softly. “You’re my father’s favorite.” She said softly. “I think you’re the kind of son he wishes he could have had sometimes but I won’t get into that. Today is not about self-pitying. Today is simply about righting wrongs that I’ve done.” She said softly. “But you’re obviously more than a stable boy Ulric.” She spoke quietly.

Upon his suggestion, she stood up and got what was needed for his wounds, his dressing and she shook her head. “I’m not ready.” She whispered. She was really sad but nowhere but her eyes showed her sadness. She tried not to let it show. It was times like this she wished her mother was still here. She used to be a buffer between Elarinya and her father. While he did love her, he was still a man who treated women a certain way. Her mother had always been so strong to stand up to him.

“Can you lift your shirt? I need to tend to your wounds.”

Ulric blinked when she told him that her father thought highly of him, finding it hard to believe. He was just a stableboy, he did nothing but tend to horses, what reason did her father have to hold him in high esteem? Ulric barely ever seen Lord Mulberry, let alone spoke with him.

"M'lady, you must be mistaken. I am but a stable boy, you must be thinking of someone else. I have barely had dealings with your father, save for tending to his steed." he said. He backed away when she asked him to lift his tunic to tend to his wounds.

"I don't understand m'lady. I am supposed to serve you. I can't ask of you to tend to my wounds" he said shyly.

She was sure he found it odd, why she had to tend to him. Her father may have made it seem like he held Ulric in high regard but it was probably all just to teach her lesson. That if she defied his orders, she needed to take responsibility for the consequences. He had been right when he called her selfish and acting like a child, even more right when he said that her mother would never approve of the young lady she was today because of her actions.

Truth was, her father was being unreasonably hard on her but he was striking at a perfect time, when she was vulnerable and extremely broken up about her horse, her companion and her very good friend. That on top of that, she was also very alone, still young and would easily believe anything was her fault. So to hear Ulric disagree and question why she was here was frustrating her a little bit, not because of him necessarily but because of this entire situation. Because the more he denied, the more her resolve was breaking and she’d fail yet again. Elarinya was this close to a break down.

“P-Please…” She looked at him, trying to blink back the moisture that was building up in her eyes, and hoping that he didn’t know the waver and break in her voice. “I-I am to be taking care of you. Simple as that. I need to take care of you, I need to help you. I almost got you killed!” She wasn’t yelling at him. She was hurting and she didn’t have anyone to turn to. Not even her father. She didn’t want pity. She just didn’t know how to deal with this on her own. Clover was her best friend. It had been hard enough when her mother died. Now Clover too and there was no on her side? Wiping her eyes, she sniffled. “So would you please just let me tend to your wounds. I’ve already been taught and showed how.” Now she didn’t even care if she was fully on crying or sounding like she was just seconds away from breaking out into full sobs. She had a responsibility and Elarinya would never shy away from her responsibility ever again.

Ulric was surprised as he saw Elarinya in such distress, explaining to him how she was charged with tending to his wounds. She genuinely seemed guilty of almost getting him killed! Why would a lady regret putting another life in danger…unless she actually cared. Seeing her on the verge of breaking down, Ulric rushed to her and moved a hand to brush the tears from her eyes.

"M'lady, no need to cry. It was my fault for not realizing that you hadn't returned." he said. Backing away he sat at the edge of the bed and rolled the sleeve of his damaged arm up for her to tend to it.

"Here…" he said, lifting his arm for her to inspect.

Maybe the crying helped but it was a relief when he finally gave in, allowing her to check his arm. Elarinya was a bit stunned when he came to her aid and wiped her tears away. She was baffled by the strange kindness and she sniffled, nodding her head. “No more need to point blame.” She said softly. “Just lie back and relax, please. I want you to heal properly.” She hated seeing anyone ill or in pain. It was painful to see her mother in that kind of pain as she lay there dying. She didn’t like the sight of Ulric that way either.

Sitting down beside him, she took what was needed to tend to his wound and redress them. The next few months went by in a more pleasant manner. Elarinya was more cautious about what she did. But she spent a lot of her time when she wasn’t engrossed in her studies with Ulric. He even managed to get her to want to raise another horse. This one wasn’t a baby but it was a wild stallion that had wandered onto their estate and with Ulric’s help and her father’s blessing, they tamed the horse and he grew an affection for her, as much as she grew an affection for him. She named him Shadow, for his fur was dark black with some white highlights and he moved so swiftly and with agile grace like a shadow.

That day, she was out on a ride with Ulric. She rode Shadow and he rode another. She was smiling again, happy. She had not only a friend in her new horse but a friend in Ulric. She liked him, fancied him quite a bit. More than she should but she kept that to herself, even if it was obvious she’d jump on any chance to spend time with him when they both could. Her father didn’t mind it seemed. So long as it didn’t progress to anything to compromise his daughter and her virtue.

They were riding along the lonely road alongside the estate when a carriage was riding by. One of the wheels hit an uneven patch on the road, causing the back wheel to go off balance and fall from their standing, putting the carriage into a difficult state of broken down. A man emerged from the carriage and by the grace and stature he held as well as the fine garments he wore, it was clear he was a man of some kind of nobility. Elarinya guided Shadow in that direction, witnessing the break down and she looked down at the noble. “Sir, I see your carriage has broken down. Is there any assistance I can offer you?”

Ulric let Elarinya tend to his wound, wincing slightly when she took off the bandages and rubbed wine in the wound to prevent infection. The stitches pulled his skin very tightly, but within a week they were taken out, and he was back to work again. Over the next 6 months he and Elarinya became inseparable, and once the wild stallion wandered on the estate grounds, he patiently tamed him (being kicked off a couple times), and trained him with Elarinya. Although Clover would probably be irreplaceable in her heart, Ulric was happy to help her develop another bond with a proud steed.

Ulric rode with her on the red courser that he rode on the day he rescued her. He pulled up behind her, witnessing the carriage almost topple over as a rear wheel broke off. Seeing the young noble step out, he wondered what he was doing here. He was dressed in fine livery: a burgundy doublet and with matching leggings, his blond hair worn in an artful tumble down to his shoulders. Hearing the lady's voice, he turned in surprise.

"Oh why hello young lady. I thank you for any assistance that you'd be able to provide. Would the Mulberry estate be near here by any chance?" he asked

Just as he finished his inquiry the rumbling of many hooves thundered in as a escort of 30 men-at-arms surrounded everybody. Their leader was a large man in full plate armor, wearing a bascinet with a pointed visor. The surcoat he wore was a golden griffon on a field of burgundy, however the man came with a huge clang as he dismounted. Lifting his arms up he lifted the heavy helm off his head, revealing his long matted hair swept over his balding scalp, a shallow face, and a large vicious scar that went from his right cheek through his lip, and ending on his chin. He had a murderous look in his eyes as he scowled at both Elarinya and Ulric

Elarinya smiled kindly at the man and was about to answer him when thirty or so men came rumbling through. In a small dose of fright, she along with her horse Shadow stepped back to give the men way, the scowl he sent to both her and Ulric making her heart fall into the pit of her stomach a little bit. He had this scary edge to him and she cleared her throat while squaring her shoulders, trying to appear like she wasn’t at all intimidated by the now associated throng of men on horses reconvened there.

“The Mulberry estate is actually right along this way. My name is Elarinya, Lady Mulberry. My father is the Duke. What business would you have here?” She spoke with the kind of authority she felt she had over these men who came along here but her words were aimed solely at the noble who made the inquiry early on. She’d no idea of who he was or of any impending arrival. Perhaps her father knew.

Turning her attention to the leader of the men-at-arms, she cleared her throat once again. “And what business might you have that could have you scowling at me? Do you not know who I am?” She had to when the situated demanded it. To act the part of a Lady, of a high ranking, certainly higher than these men. Even if she was just a female.

"Please pardon my man m'lady Mulberry, he did not mean anything by it" the lord said, coming in-between the two, smiling as warmly as he could up at Elarinya. The sinister knight shifted a bit uncomfortably and turned his gaze to Ulric, a slight hint of disgust on his face.

"Fighting men are all alike, and Sir Errol Vestor is no different. In times of peace they are restless, yet in times of war they are reluctant to do battle, save for the right amount of coin" he added as comically as he could to lighten the mood…however the knight in question hardly seemed amused

"I am lord Harold Hawkwood. I have corresponded with your father. Would it be possible to send word to your father for an escort. It appears that my rear wheel has broken off, and I'd be most grateful for a carriage to take both me and my luggage." he said