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From Peasant to Hero (MaliciousLullaby and DudeMeister)

Her eyes watered at the moment of his confession and she looked away. It was him. She had been right. Her suspicions and the feelings she got when she first saw him, they all came rushing back in an instant with overwhelming emotion. She had been right all along and this just proved that it was okay to use her heart in these matters. Looking to him, she moved closer to him and just took a moment to be left in bewilderment that it was really him to look him over, and really look at him. He grew so handsomely and those eyes, she wouldn’t ever forget those eyes. That’s why she knew.

“It really is you.” She whispered, even her whisper wavering because she was already so close to tears. “W-Why didn’t you tell me? Why couldn’t you tell me? Why did it take this much to get you to tell me? What’s so wrong if I know? I won’t tell anyone, Ulric.”
 
For what seemed like the longest time in his harsh training to become the soldier he currently was, he hoped to meet his one true friend and let her know that he made it. Foolishly he imagined that she would be proud of him, and come upon the realization that they were now equals by all the laws of the kingdom. That soon changed once he saw what real war was like, dashing his childhood fantasy in an instant.

"I guess because I was afraid that I changed to much, and that your wouldn't know me anymore. Maybe because I realize what knighthood really means and am ashamed of it." he said

"Also I was a bit afraid of who might be listening in. I know you wouldn't tell anybody, but I doubt that some conniving eavesdropper would be so kind" he added
 
Looking up at him, her hand moved up and she slid it across his cheek gently. Her thumb stroked his skin softly and she moved a little closer. “I knew it was you the moment I saw you. I had been hoping that I would see you again Ulric.” She said softly. “I haven’t been the same since everything happened. Since my father sent me away after he banished you.” Her hand slid away from his cheek and she bit her lower lip. She moved away from him and turned her back to him, staring at the drapery over a window. “If you don’t wish to accompany me any longer because you have told me the truth, I’ll understand. I can ask someone else.”
 
Ulric felt Ela's hand against his cheek as she told him that she knew who he was from the first moment she saw him. He had always remembered the nobleman's daughter who treated him as an equal, but always wondered if she ever thought of him in those years they were apart, or even cared for him in the first place. For better or for worse, he was glad that she remembered him. As she backed away from him, he almost wanted to grasp her hand before it left his face. As she turned towards the window, he slowly advanced towards her.

"I will go with you Ela" he said, calling her as he did when they were children.
 
She turned to face him and the look on her face said how much she yearned to touch him, caress his cheek, holding him, something far more affectionate than the exchange they had between them right now; like strangers. She held back and only nodded her head. “I’m honored.” But more than that, she desperately hoped that during the journey back, now that she knew the truth and he was aware of that, they might be able to discover each other again like they did when their younger. Not necessarily in the intimate way but he had been her friend growing up, a reprieve for after her mother died and her father turned away from her because of her incredible likeness to her mother. She didn’t feel so alone because of Ulric.

It ended too quickly and now here they were again. Perhaps this was the fates way of granting them a second chance to something they never had; to something that they could have. “When do we leave?”
 
Perhaps Ulric wished to rekindle the friendship that the both of them held so dear. Despite everything that happened with his banishment and her being sent off to the convent, there was a part of him that remained that stableboy she knew so long ago. Only this time they were equals in every sense. He had at least earned the right to talk and ride with a lady out in public.

"The honor is mine Ela. It would be nice to see the old estate grounds. Perhaps we can have that sparring match after all" he said with a smile, breaking the cool courtesy that their stations called for.

"We can leave tomorrow morning if you wish. My men can be packed and ready to leave by then" he offered.
 
A part of Elarinya would always be that young girl who got into more trouble than she should by finding friends in the ‘hired help’ of the estate and not always being the graceful lady of etiquette that her mother was. Even now, everything she was and used to be was hidden after her years in that convent. Now, she just wanted to be that young girl again with him but it was difficult when there were years between them that were spent without a single word, years of things that happened that have changed and shaped them.

She hoped they could find some way to be that way again. She was in love with the stable boy. And she was still in love with him; even now, with him being this gallant and experienced knight in shining armor.

A smile appeared on her face and she nodded her head. “I’d like that. I just might beat you this time. I’ve had good training.” She grinned.
“We’ll leave tomorrow. Thank you.” She clasped her hands in front of her and looked at him. “I should let you go then for the night, yes?” She didn’t want to. She hoped he didn’t want to.
 
Ulric saw Ela's smile grace her face once again. It was that kind and warm smile that brought him back to happier and simpler times. Although at a troubled and stoic time in his life, Ulric knew he loved Ela. He wasn't sure if it was that kind of love, but it was that impulse that drove him to save her from the wolves so many years ago. It was that feeling that only grew as their friendship flourished, and what brought him pain when it was torn away from him for having braved Vestor's sword.

"Well look out now. It would seem that we live in a world where ladies can wield swords, and stable boys can become knights. Truly troubling times" he said jokingly. As she came closer, he found himself more and more reluctant to leave, just yet.

"I don't have any pressing matters at the moment. We won't have this opportunity on the open road to talk in private" he added, removing his sword from his belt and setting it far away against a desk.

"It has been a while after all"
 
She laughed and covered her mouth; old habits die hard and if anything, she became more proper than ever. Ladies were to cover their mouth or hide their laughter with a fan. She didn’t have her fan with her so it was all up to her hand. At lease she was graceful, well she hoped she was. “Truly troubling times. Next thing they’ll allow is for ladies to show their ankles and wear split skirts (pants) and for men to not wear breeches under their pantaloons.” She smiled.

As Ulric got comfortable, she felt a hope flare in her chest. He wanted to stay. So she wasn’t the only one then. “Please, by all means. Get comfortable. Would you like something to drink? I can ask a maid servant to fetch some water. Or I have a decanter of nice wine if you like? It has both white and red grapes to give it a less bitter taste and more of a fruity taste, but not too sweet either. I think it’s the perfect combination really.”
 
As Ulric sat on a chair, he smirked at Ela's parodic comments on the ridiculous nature of clothing.

"I wouldn't mind that. I never got the whole slashed pantaloons bit. It seems rather ridiculous really. I mean, who would think that looks good? Still, it's better than wearing mail and plate all day" he commented.

"I'm sure that wearing pants would have it's advantages. Think about how much easier it would be to ride than it would be with a skirt. Do you still ride Ela?" he asked her
 
She moved to a table and uncorked the decanter and poured them both a small tasting of the wine she had suggested. She picked up both glasses and walked to him, handing him one before she sat down in a chair opposite him. She sipped her wine carefully and smiled at him after, swallowing down the delicious nectar. “Well that is why women who do ride tend to have riding habits. It’s supposed to help.” She had about five different sets, each a different color. She wore the one that fit closest to her mood. Lately when she would go riding, she would wear black. It fit her mood; dark, bleak and lonely. Not even her horse seemed to lift her spirits like it used to when she was younger.

“I do. When I need an escape, I go riding.” She said softly. “I want to keep an array of horses at the estate with me. It’s painful getting close to one and then not be there enough, missing it too much after it dies.” She frowned. Safe to say, when she lost Clover it broke her heart since she blamed herself. So when she lost her second horse that was meant to replace the voice that Clover left, she stopped getting close to horses.
 
It was a relief to hear that Ela didn't change entirely in the seven years they were apart. She still enjoyed a good ride, and from experience charging atop of a trained destrier had it's sense of majesty and power. When she mentioned her plans to keep many horses in the stable, and how painful it was to get attached to one before it dies struck a chord. He took a slow sip of the wine and nodded slowly.

"I know what you mean" he said. More than once he had mourned the brave steed who bore him into battle and was killed under him. After the second one, he didn't even bother to name his horses anymore. That being said, he still shod his horses himself. He was the one riding them after all.

"It was nice speaking with you. Now I really must make preparations for tomorrow." he said, finishing the red wine and placing the glass on the table. He than slowly took her hand and kissed it

"Good night Ela" he said, picking up his sword and heading out of her room.

The preparations were underway within minutes after their meeting. He formed the detachment for her guard with him as their leader. Most of the troops he brought were mercenary soldiers armed with either halberd or sword. He as well took sufficient cavalry for outriding. He soon rode his horse over to Ela's carriage and knocked on her door. Seated on his black warhorse, he chose to wore brigandine as opposed to plate. It made the march much more bearable.

"How is m'lady this morning" he said as he marched his horse alongside the carriage, leaning in to see her through it's window.
 
Elarinya watched as he stood to take his leave and she frowned. She stood as well and set her not yet empty wine glass down and moved to him. “Good night. I’ll see you tomorrow.” She blushed lightly when he kissed the back of her hand but she made herself not thinking anything of it. Just because they reconnected, knew who each other was and he was even being her escort home tomorrow with a small fleet, didn’t mean anything. If anything he was probably taking now on the ‘bitter spinster’ she was destined to become.

Once he left, she downed her glass of wine of what remained, not at all like a lady should and then prepared for bed. She changed into a night gown and lay down for sleep but even with that glass of wine, sleep didn’t come so easily. She tossed and turned for a few hours before she managed to sleep for maybe an hour. She was up early when her eyes opened after that hour and deciding against trying to sleep again, she got up and started her day.

After a bath, an early breakfast and then changing for the day, she spent the rest of the time she had packing her things for her journey back home. Perhaps the bumpiness of the carriage ride home might lull her to sleep. It was strange how it took so much to make her sleep. She used to sleep just fine when she was younger, managed to sleep fine as well at the convent. These days, she couldn’t. Even with the relief of knowing about Ulric, she still didn’t sleep. What more was her heart yearning for?

Once the time came, she walked out and a couple of servants carried her bags out. She didn’t have much. She traveled light. She wasn’t that typical of a lady. She was helped into the carriage and sat back and only once it started moving did she realize that she didn’t even check to see if Ulric and his fleet of men were with her. Only when she saw that familiar face perched out of her moving carriage did she relax and smile softly, albeit very tiredly. “Better now. How is my favorite knight in shining armor?”
 
"I am well, but not quite in shining armor" he noted with a smile. He was wearing the protective gear known as 'brigandine', the tunic made up of lames of plate fastened underneath a dark brown leather. It was reasonably comfortable to move in, and was certainly finer protection than many of his own men-at-arms could afford. As Ulric peered in, he noticed the glazed and fatigued look in Elarinya's eyes. From what he could tell, she hadn't slept the night before. Truth be told, neither could he. His own night was devoid of much needed slumber, yet filled with reminiscing of their past, and a yearning he couldn't put his finger on. Of course he was of age to be interested in women...but he knew that being with Ela was out of the question. He would always be that stable boy she knew all those years ago, no matter his elevated station or his current attire.

"It would seem that you haven't rested well last nice. It is still some time until we travel through the forest. I can order a medic to give you a sleeping draught if you would like. We are still safe out on the open road, so it would be most opportune to sleep now." he offered dutifully as the synchronized marching of his men could be heard in the background, their spears or halberds carried over their shoulder, giving the entire entourage the look of a moving forest.
 
She smiled gently. “You could be wearing a run down tunic and battered pantaloons and you’d still look like a knight in shining armor.” It wasn’t fair that Ulric grew up into such a handsome man; she could look into his eyes for hours. Just being near him, she was feeling such an incredible sense of relaxation that she could fall asleep easily right there in the carriage and miss talking to him. Granted, she had a feeling she wouldn’t be able to talk to him the entire time. He did have a job to do and it wasn’t schmoozing with the Lady Mulberry.

“Do I look that awful?” She laughed softly. “No, I’ll be fine. I can get rest elsewhere.” She knew it wasn’t an easy journey back home. It didn’t go quickly and they would have to stop somewhere for the night once they got through the worst of the forest. “Don’t worry about me so much Sir Anton.” She used his name that everyone knew him as. “I’m perfect capable to handle myself. Thank you though.” She didn’t want him to worry so much. It would make her think of something else, make want for something more, always and keep yearning for him. She couldn’t have that. His standoffish ways were making that clear.

He was not hers to ever have.
 
"I imagine that nothing on earth could make you look awful. You could be dressed in rough spun and you'd still be fairer than any princess, queen, or duchess that I've laid eyes on. I'm just speaking from experience of long distance travel." Anton said, returning her compliment in kind. Looking upon her, he was almost regretful of the duties he had to perform. Ela was always beautiful, but she had grown sublime in their years apart. Her alluring eyes were inset into an angelic face, framed by her wonderfully wavy locks. Her lovely feminine body was clothed in a dress that both preserved her modesty yet accentuated her form. Ulric's eyes inevitably settled upon her lips and for the briefest of moments wondered what it would be like to kiss them, how soft and inviting they would be as they shared that amorous affection that he realized he craved. His words weren't honeyed simply for her benefit, he was but a up jumped stableboy with a knack for combat. All the gallantry and pageantry of courtly devotion to a lady as told in the knightly tradition was wasted upon him. Whatever he spoke to her came from the heart.

"There are steeds that I would be happy to let you ride if we didn't have to traverse through the forest. I would rather have you in the carriage were you could be better protected. After we've left the forest, I'll be happy to have a horse saddled for you" he offered, bowing courteously before he took his leave of her, riding up ahead to his the other units to lead their march. Ulric felt compelled to leave, not from revulsion of her, but to prevent himself from professing anything to Ela that she might find off-putting. She would never be able to see anything from him.

As the hours wore on, the column slowly wound their way through the densely canopied forest. By this time the sky was overcast, bringing the likely portent of a deluge. As reluctant as he was to be drenched in the saddle, he was happy he wouldn't be wearing plate. Exposing his equipment to the elements would bring about rust. About half an hour into their trek, a squire swiftly rode back to him, bringing about a message.

"Yes Johann, what seems to be the trouble?" Anton asked, seeing the squire's expression of distress. The squire said not a word, yet gestured to Anton to follow him. Ridding alongside the column of troops, he saw the ghastly sight. The three outriders he had sent ahead to scout were currently the new occupants of a venerable oak tree...their lifeless forms hanging by about three feet of rope. Riding up closer to inspect the wounds, he saw that three hours fletched one of them, another's arm was missing at the elbow, and the third was shall we say, opened up. It was not a long time since he had dispatched them and the crows hadn't been at them yet, an ill portent that their killers were nearby. Not knowing how many of the enemy still lurked in the woods, and knowing that cavalry was useless hear, he uttered the order for the troop to turn back. Going around the forest would add a day to their march, but he wouldn't needlessly risk lives, least of all that of Ela. Murmurs of frustration bellowed from the column, but they obeyed their commander. Riding back to let Ela know, he passed by a supply wagon and leaning in his saddle in mid gallop, managed to get ahold of a sallet. He would not welcome a blow to the head if things grew heated.

It was barely moments later that the thrum of bowstrings echoed amongst the oaks, the so called 'devils harp music' sending forth arrows and quarrels into the flanks of his men. Riding to protect Ela, the halberdiers that he stationed around her carriage were doing battle against the bandits of the wood. They were professional soldiers to be sure, but the swarm of knaves quickly overwhelmed them, and her guard of twelve was reduced to four in minutes. Jumping off his horse, he drew his blade and severed the hamstring of an assailant about to perform a coup du grace upon a comrade, clutching his own blade to deliver the point into the neck a moment later. With a villainous cut, he ended a man's arm at the wrist as he tried to pry the carriage door open, returning his blade in the opposite direction to open his skull. Her carriage slowly wheeled about the way they came, Ulric holding several men at bay as he became a veritable storm of steel, his sword keeping measure against them as more and more men came to his aid. Whizzing past his cheek, a flaming arrow found itself into the driver's knee, and before long he had to duck a hail of the incendiary projectiles as they imbedded themselves into the carriage.

Having go act quickly, Ulric opened the carriage and pulled Ela out, whistling his horse closer to take her.

"Ride fast and keep low" he said hurriedly as his men came to their aid, before he swatted the steeds rump to spur it to a full gallop out of the woods, her path made possible by skirmishers he stationed in a column behind her carriage.
 
Her cheeks turned red and she looked at him with this look in her eyes that screamed for him to say the one other thing she hoped he might feel. Alas, it didn’t come and soon after giving her such a rich compliment, he departed her side with a bow and returned up to his post. Elarinya stuck her head out of the window of the carriage to watch him ride up. She still smiled and sat back in her seat, facing forward. Touching her cheek, she felt the warmth the rosy blush left and it only made her blush harder and actually smile. The feeling felt so foreign to her face but she welcomed it anyways. Leave it to Ulric to make her smile in a way she hadn’t in so long.

The ride was long and she dozed off plenty of times, her head resting on the steady wall of the carriage. Only as they entered onto the bumpy terrain, a sign of entering the heavily canopied and darkened forest, did she truly jostle awake. She sat up and matted her hair down a little bit, brushing her bangs out of her face. They were in the forest now, she could not fall asleep. There was a sense of doubt and anxiety that prickled her scalp. She had an uneasy feeling about something. That’s what the forests made her feel. They were beautiful to look at from a distance but never to wander through. That feeling grew more poignant.

The carriage stopped for a moment and she poked her head out of the carriage to find out why. It was only when Ulric rode up to her side, he explained what happened. The three men he sent up ahead a while ago to scout the area clear were no longer among the living. Danger. She was right in feeling that unease the moment they had entered the forest. Her heart basically started to hammer in her chest but it became even more as the full on ambush transpired. The events happened so quick, too quick. She wondered if it was planned or this was simply the work of thieves who did this for a living, always waiting and scouting for a possibility like this.

Not too long after, an actual fight ensued. She ducked down in the carriage in the space between the facing seats as she heard gushing sounds of blood being spilled, the metal clang of swords and groans of pain and agony as last breaths were breathed before the death of the fallen as well as the scent of spilled blood filled her senses and nostrils. It was repugnant and she covered her mouth, her eyes quelling with tears. She had felt terror before when she thought she may be mauled to death by wolves but it was so long ago, she had long since forgotten it. This was different. Wolves were one thing but against a band of humans, they would flee. This was human against human and more than her life, she worried for Ulric’s and his fleet.

The sound of something embedding into her carriage startled her and she sat up. She could feel the heat already of the fire on the carriage. Quickly, she was pulled out of the carriage before she could have hollered for help and placed on Ulric’s horse. He gave her steadfast orders that she knew to heed but she didn’t want to leave him. “Ulric.” She whispered his name in fright. Nothing more, with one swat to the rear, the horse took off. She was given an easy and clear path and kept her head ducked low as she held onto the reins, urging the horse faster. Tears flowed freely down her cheeks but she did her best to steer herself capable and fully competent to ride herself out of the forest.

Elarinya could see the clearing and the light reflected at the end of the forest. She was almost out when all of a sudden, a man on a swinging rope or vine jumped into her side and knocked her and Ulric’s horse down. She fell off to the side, away from the crushing blow of the fallen horse and struggled to make herself fall. She was shaking and her cheeks were stained with dried tears. The moment she did stand and turn to face her assailant, she was met with the tip of a blade at her neck.

“A fine lass you are.” His voice was thickly accented and there was a sneer in it to match the one on his face. A sneer that quickly turned into a leer as he took in her state of dress. Yes, the dress was modest and accentuated her figure but like all dresses of this time, the corset pushed up her chest and made for quite the tantalizing décolletage that was currently as she breathed rapidly through her nose. Her hands were held up beside her in a sign of easy and quick surrender. “It’d be a pity to waste your noble blood. I reckon we could fetch a hefty price for you. What they don’t know won’t hurt your price, we can still enjoy you.”

Over his shoulder, she saw the fallen horse. He was still alive but unable to stand yet. In one of the side bags attached to the saddle, she saw the glimmering hilt of what she hoped was a blade. If she could get to it…

The man lunged and Elarinya moved quickly to the right, deflecting him, which caused him to fall. She hurried to the horse and grabbed the hilt that stuck out of the saddle bag and turned, drawing a smaller sized sword, nearing the size of a dagger and wielding it before her to her assailant.
“Now we can be on equal terms if you are to subject me to debasement, Knave.” She hissed.

He cackled, a haunting sound that made the invisible hairs on the back of her neck stand up straight and tall. Standing, he held his sword out weakly toward her, not serious and definitely not finding her a threat. “You must be daft, lass. How can you possibly be on equal terms with me? You’re a lady. Do you know what I am?”

“A fool. What else?” She said it like it was obvious. “You place your misfortune in my hands for you seriously underestimate me.” He cackled again and without another word spoken more, he lunged for her. He was so quick and with a sword bigger than hers, she didn’t really stand much of a chance. As he tackled his body onto hers, the blade of his sword managed to cut into the layers of fabric and corset she wore and sliced her belly thinly. She didn’t feel it, even as the rip in her dress because saturated with her blood. The adrenaline coursing through her was too high and her survival kicked in.

His face loomed down on hers and turning her face like she might return his impending kiss, she instead bit down on hard on his nose, very hard that it felt like she might have nearly bitten off the cartilage. He groaned in pain and the blade of his sword sunk deeper into her flesh. That she felt but she took the moment of distraction to quickly gather her wits and plunge the blade into his flesh. But she knew better than to leave it at that and gripping the hilt with both hands, she twisted and a choked gasp came from him; most likely blood filling his mouth.

Twisting the blade once more, she pulled it out of him and pushed him off of her. Standing, she looked down at his lifeless form as blood spilled from his slacken mouth and she was breathing hard. By then, the horse righted itself back up and she climbed on top. She snapped the reins and the dazzling creature moved forward in a quick sprint, taking her fully out of the forest and a few paces away onto the green grass. The dagger in her hands still, she dismounted the steed and he stayed by but her legs gave out beneath her. Elarinya felt the pain of the slice to her stomach. Not lethally deep but enough to make her lose blood and feel pain she never experienced before. Her body twisted and she fell to the side as darkness clouded her vision. But she never let go of the dagger, the blade covered in blood that did not belong to her.
 
How could he be so stupid? What could've possibly possessed him to lead his men through a forest known to be infested with brigands, and while escorting Ela? Immediately regretting his mistake, he resumed the bloody combat as he saw Ela gallop off into the distance. She should be safe behind the column of troops that met the ambushers from the underbrush. Cursing under his breath, he turned to parry a downward strike with the back edge of his blade, before returning a diagonal slash to his opponent's neck as he felt something ring against the sallet that he wore. He was glad he picked up the helmet before the fray happened, for if he hadn't he'd be brained by the morningstar his new foe wielded. His vision blurred and disoriented he staggered back under the force of the blow as the man swung the cruel spiked ball and chain in a deadly sweeping arc. Ulric ended up taking another blow to his head, denting the helm that he wore, feeling a warm trickle of blood from were the metal caved in to lacerate his forehead. The brute of a man was too well armed to be a common brigand, wearing a metal plate known as a bevor to protect his lower abdomen and a round war hat atop his crown. Gritting his teeth, he grasped his blade as he darted within the concussive range of the hafted weapon, steering his foe's momentum aside before he drove his point into his eye. The man dropped his weapon to the ground and grunted in pain, and Ulric grasped the blade of his sword and held it poised over his head, delivering a murderous stroke with the pommel of his sword in the manner of a maul. Grunting loudly he brought it down repeatedly against his foe, although it didn't help that he felt something pierce his calf. Having bashed his foe's face in, he knelt to pull the arrow out of his lower leg, thankful that he chose to wear greaves today.

Despite the previous disarray of the battle, his own forces rallied. Part of it was to thank for the dopplesoldner troops who wielded their massive zweihanders, making the spears of their assailants slightly less of a problem. His calvary chief wisely ordered his men to dismount and they killed more of the bandits in an orderly fashion. The beat the survivors to an early retreat, but the losses were considerable, and what was worse was that it could've been avoided. This was perhaps Anton's greatest failure as a commander. Leading his men through hostile terrain for the sake of saving a fornight's travel.

"Gather the wounded and turn back, we will retreat out of these woods" Anton commanded, making the first wise decision he had made since they set out. He took a horse and rode on to catch up to Ela, but to his dismay the tracks led to a dead bandit, clutching his opened abdomen and with a expression as his death mask. He dismounted and followed a trail of blood, fearing for the worst. Thoughts raced through his mind like an uncontrollable flood. Was she hurt? Did she manage to escape?

Was she killed?

Moments later he spotted the horse he had set her on, and saw her form lying upon the ground. Rushing to her, he craddled her head before she felt and caressed her cheek, looking down to see the wound at her stomach

"Ela! Stay with me please! Everything will be alright!" he spoke, fearful that her life was leaving her. Having to act quickly he spotted the medicine kit that he packed in the saddlebags of his steed. Thankfully she was still breathing, and somewhat conscious. He quickly mixed a salve into a poultice before using his dagger to cut away at the fabric of her corset around the wound. Infection was just as much a killer as battle wounds themselves. The salve would serve to sterilize the site of the cut. He quickly wrapped a few layers of bandages around her waist to stop the bleeding. It would serve for now, but she would need more thorough medical attention before he could consider her safe.

-----

It was another four hours before his troops regrouped outside of the forest and marched towards the estate of one of Lord Meyer's sworn banner men. There his wounded charge was brought to a guest room and a doctor was summoned to inspect her wound. Anton commanded his troops to lodge themselves in the castle until he was sure they could continue the march, before he returned to the room she was in. He was told that she was out of danger, but out of guilt he settled himself onto a chair at her bedside. Hours passed as she slept, and more and more Anton began to curse his stupidity. He had lost men's lives with this gambit, and what was more Ela was hurt. If things turned out differently he would've never forgiven himself.
 
It felt like hours while she stayed underneath the haze of the blackness and the apparent exhaustion that weighed on her. For a swift blissful moment, she thought perhaps the loneliness she felt in this world ended and God had taken pity on her and sent her to her mother and father, more namely her mother. Maybe even Clover too. It really wasn’t the case. She was just simply under, in a really deep sleep and she breathed not as normally if she was actually sleeping but she didn’t stop breathing. She was alive. Just in pain.

When she did wake, her vision was so blurry that she had to blink her eyes a few times before it cleared and she could see clearly. Her vision focused. Surveying where she was, the walls were a dark brown wood and there were several dimly lit sconces on them. On one end, she saw a large book case that was filled to the brim with reading material and there was a small desk in the corner with an oil lamp, the chair tucked in snuggly. Settling her gaze forward, she turned her head and she saw Ulric sitting right beside her.

Forgetting what happened for the moment, Elarinya made to sit up but a small whimper of pain came from her as pain lanced through her. She put her hand over her bandaged wound and lay back down. Her entire body ached. From the harsh nudge she took to her side when that bandit crashed into her, to the slice of her flesh and even when she fell in the grass and passed out. It all came back to her increasingly then and it made her head pound.

Her eyes closed and she pressed a hand to her clammy forehead. “Ulric?” She whispered, her throat dry, making even her whisper come out a little hoarsely. She turned her head in his direction and her gaze fell over him. “Water?”
 
The failure on Ulric's part to properly lead his forces would no doubt displease his father. But why would disorganized brigands attempt to ambush an army far greater then their own? Were they that daft or desperate? Or were they placed there by the enemy. There was trouble brewing from the borders, whispers of armies amassing from across their seas. How much Ulric wished that they at least captured one of their number for interrogation so that perhaps they could get to the bottom of this. The journey should've been easy and uneventful. True there losses were not that great, but human life was human life. Ulric saw in one of the medic's wagons a crossbowmen named Tristan. He was a simple farmer before need brought him to war. He simply needed to support his family. His wife gave birth to a baby girl not two months ago. Now that child would be fatherless, for Tristan took a spear to the chest and passed on a few hours ago. That was not the only death that now hung over Ulric's head, and there was no way to atone for this other than to never make such a mistake again.

As the hours passed, the fatigues of the day weighed upon him, and before long he drifted into slumber. He was so worried about Ela's well being that he forgot to look after his own wounds, though thankfully they were no more than a few cuts and bruises. He wondered wether or not Ela would even talk to him after her failed her like that. Ulric was eventually roused from his sleep as she awoke. Obviously in pain he acted on her request for water and filled a glass from a pitcher.

"How do you feel?" he asked, moving to her side and handing her the glass.
 
Graciously, she accepted the glass of water and she drank it all, the cool liquid doing wonders for her thirst and her dry throat. She cleared it and set the glass aside on a table and looked at him. One look at him and she saw some cuts and bruises, namely the cut on his head that looked like it had yet to be treated or cared for. How long had he been by her side?

Swallowing, she nodded her head slowly. “I feel like a filthy and vile knave cut me and ruined one of my favorite dresses.” It was her attempt at some mild, perhaps ill-fitted humor but also to let him know that she didn’t blame him or was even angry at him one little bit. “You have some injuries too Ulric, you should take care of them.” She said gently, her hand moving to reach out for his.

“I’m really glad you’re okay. I was more terrified for you and your fleet than myself. Is everyone else okay?” She knew not all of them must have survived; by her count, there were more than three deaths, that much she knew for sure. She just didn’t know how many. She didn’t know that most of those guarding around her carriage had quickly been swiped down.
 
"They are nothing, occupational hazards" he said, passing it off. In truth he had suffered worse in the past. 'Tis but a scratch. He took the glass from her when she was done and set it on the nightstand. It was fortunate that whatever wound was inflicted on her was shallow. Life threatening it was not, but it would leave a scar upon her abdomen. That was perhaps more than most ladies would ever see in there lifetime. Battle was something that she shouldn't have seen. He felt her hand grasp his, and he gently held her digits in return. When she asked about his men, he did his best to maintain composure. His men would have to bury about twenty of their comrades tonight, but that was not something he could let on.

"I'm sorry about your dress, but it was lucky I found you when I did. You lost some blood from your wound. Thankfully we were able to bring you here in time so that we could regroup for the march home. The doctor said you'll need about a week's rest before we can set out again. I'm so sorry for putting you in danger. I had no idea that the woods were full of bandits or that they would actually dare to attack us, but I shouldn't of taken any risks."
 
“Ulric…” She gave his hand a gentle squeeze. “I might be a lady, technically a duchess now, but that doesn’t mean I am some delicate flower that will break so quickly.” She said softly. “Sure, by title I require so much protection but you know me. I didn’t like that when I was a kid and I still don’t like that now and only really impose my title and higher status when I see fit.” She said softly. “If anything I should be thanking you.” Her thumb stroked gently over the top his hand and she looked into his eyes.

“I killed that bandit. And if I didn’t retain some of the knowledge you gave me about defending myself when we were kids, I wouldn’t have and a simple cut to my stomach would be the least of our worries. I wouldn’t be here. I’d still be alive but I would wish for death. The things he said…” She shook her head and gave his hand another squeeze. “I don’t blame you for any of this. So stop talking to me like I am a stranger, or someone so far above your rank that I wouldn’t even spare you a second glance. If you haven’t noticed, I’ve been staring at you since I saw you in that arena.” She let his hand go.

“Or if you don’t want to care then stop being so kind to me because it’s not fair. I don’t care about the title. I didn’t care then and I don’t care now. But if you do…” She looked away from him and stared before her, at the wall, her hands now gripping the blanket laid over her body. She didn’t know where all this was coming from. She just knew that if she had actually died, then he wouldn’t ever have known how she felt. And how his kindness confused her because she knew he didn’t think it was ever possible for them.

All because of titles and status.
 
Ulric kept hold of Ela's hands as she spoke, feeling them squeeze as she expressed her frustrations with being treated like a fragile being, and for being treated differently for being a duchess. True as a knight he was of noble status, but being born a peasant imposed upon him the social stigma. No matter who he was now, he'd always have a chip on his shoulder. He was grateful that she had the courage to fight back. Ulric met men who couldn't do it, yet to preserve her life and modesty she killed the bandit before anything insidious could happen. Nevertheless the fact that she took a life will always stay with her. It might not take hold of her now, but the somber feeling of having ended a life would stay with her forever. Experience told him that the she'd remember the face of the man she killed. Seven years later, Ulric was still haunted by dreams of Sir Vestor.

If you haven't noticed, I've been staring at you since I saw you at the tournament

Ulric looked up into her eyes as she spoke those words, but what did that mean? Was it possible that she felt the same way about him that he felt for her?

"Ela, I didn't agree to protect you because you asked me to or because it's expected of me..." he started, gently taking her hand and leaning over to press it against his cheek. Compulsion drove him to bring it to his lips, kissing her palm gently. It wasn't the courtly kiss on the hand expected of a knight to give a lady, but genuine affection and longing between man and woman.

"...I care for you." came his gambit. Would it be worth it in the end, or did he cross a line?
 
Her mind swam with so many more thoughts that she wanted to vocalize but she didn’t say anything. She didn’t want to make it worse. She just basically admitted something that a lady of her standing wouldn’t admit but she didn’t care. Okay, she cared a bit since she told Ulric how she really felt, how she always felt since they were younger and it was laying out all the cards on the table. What if he didn’t feel the same and he was simply being kind to her out of respect for her noble status? It was times like these she truly believed it was a curse. It was a curse but it did come with so much power and responsibility.

Then he started talking and she couldn’t help herself. She turned her head to look at him and watched as he took her hand and actually kissed her palm. She felt her heart beat faster as her eyes slipped closed. He cared for her. And it sounded like he genuinely meant it.

Gently, Elarinya managed to turn onto her side and she brought his hand closer to her and kissed the back of it before resting it against her cheek. She looked at him and nodded her head. “That wasn’t so hard, was it?” She teased gently.

She knew eventually it would strike her hard that she had to take a life but she wasn’t about to let someone take advantage of her like that. No, it was her life over that knave’s and if it happened again, she’d make the same decision. She respected people and they respected her. When that changed, she could be a real fighter.

“Does this hinder our trip to the estate?” She was feeling a little guilty. Perhaps they shouldn’t have gone. The kingdom was in raptures for the impending and possible war. Perhaps raveling wasn’t the safest option, whether she was alone or not.
 
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