Post by Seek on Apr 16, 2013 17:04:06 GMT 10
Title: New Trainee
Rating: PG
Word Count: 687 words.
Pairing: Kel/Lalasa
Round/Fight: 1B
Summary: AU, Lalasa does the laundry and the sewing for the Provost's Guard. She hears of a new trainee.
Warnings: None.
Note: Played with the ages a little.
-
Word is, there's a new trainee in the Provost's Guard.
"There's always new trainees," I tell Delle, as I sew a ripped sleeve. The Guardsmen pay me to launder and mend their uniforms; life in the Provost's Guard is hard on their clothing. I'd thought of seeking work in the palace, but my uncle hadn't been able to find me work. No one in the palace was looking for a servant just yet. It was just as well that I'd met Mistress Olver. The Provost's Guard pays a decent fee, and work's better than being another servant to a nobleman's brat who thinks that paying for your services means he's entitled to a grope here and there.
"This one's special," Delle says, because she always has all the latest word from the station, seeing as she's out with Guardsman Cartwright all day. Cartwright's a careless sort of man, and the kind who looks a lot more than he ought. At least he's not free with his hands the way some of the other Guardsmen are.
I sigh, and say, "What do you mean, special?" That's what Delle's been waiting for, and she launches into a long explanation.
"Oh, there's a new trainee--a noblewoman, would you believe that? I mean, we all know that Dior is some baron's get, but a noblewoman? Never thought I'd see one of those join the Guard. Not in a long while. And that's not the best part of it all."
Patiently, I close up the rip in the sleeve, tie off the stitches, and cut the thread. "What it is, then?"
"They say she used to be a page."
I suck in a startled breath; snip goes the scissors. I fold up the shirt and set it aside, pick up the next shirt that needs tailoring. Seems we have a mite in the Guard this time. The chalk marks on the black uniform indicate it needs to be altered, made smaller. "Never thought someone would actually go for it." How long has it been since the criers in the marketplace and the message riders were announcing that piece of foolishness from the king? He'd allowed women to try for their knighthood; thing is, a woman knows when something's enough for her. I never saw the point of that, at least. I've been saving up; if I ever see the day I open my own shop, I'll be happy enough with what I've done. I never saw the Lioness up close, only at a distance once. A lot shorter than the stories, and heavily built. I realise I've been staring at the uniform that needs alteration for a while now.
"She did. Truth, swear by the Goddess," Delle said. "You remember the Mindelan girl?"
I blink, not because Delle swears too lightly by the gods, but because I do remember the Mindelan girl. My uncle spoke to me of her; he'd once hoped that she could have taken me into her service. "The girl who left page training after her first year?" Washed out, and good riddance, some of the others were saying. With the Mindelan girl gone, any prospects of employment for me at the palace had also fled. "Wait, the Mindelan girl? She's the new trainee you're all a-jaw about?"
"Yes!" Delle exclaimed. She snipped off fraying threads and frowned down at the pair of breeches she was mending. "'Tis the Mindelan girl, for certain-sure."
Odd and odder still. This is what I remember: Keladry of Mindelan decided to become a knight; there was an uncommon fuss about it, because she'd been the first girl as said so, and far too old for the usual age at which them nobles begin at the palace. She'd gotten thrown out on her ear after the first year, and no one paid any attention after that. Only, I thought, it seemed that we had a name to put to the new trainee who was sending the Guard station into such a fuss. Keladry of Mindelan.
I twisted the uniform around in my hand, and wondered when she'd come in for her first fitting.
Rating: PG
Word Count: 687 words.
Pairing: Kel/Lalasa
Round/Fight: 1B
Summary: AU, Lalasa does the laundry and the sewing for the Provost's Guard. She hears of a new trainee.
Warnings: None.
Note: Played with the ages a little.
-
Word is, there's a new trainee in the Provost's Guard.
"There's always new trainees," I tell Delle, as I sew a ripped sleeve. The Guardsmen pay me to launder and mend their uniforms; life in the Provost's Guard is hard on their clothing. I'd thought of seeking work in the palace, but my uncle hadn't been able to find me work. No one in the palace was looking for a servant just yet. It was just as well that I'd met Mistress Olver. The Provost's Guard pays a decent fee, and work's better than being another servant to a nobleman's brat who thinks that paying for your services means he's entitled to a grope here and there.
"This one's special," Delle says, because she always has all the latest word from the station, seeing as she's out with Guardsman Cartwright all day. Cartwright's a careless sort of man, and the kind who looks a lot more than he ought. At least he's not free with his hands the way some of the other Guardsmen are.
I sigh, and say, "What do you mean, special?" That's what Delle's been waiting for, and she launches into a long explanation.
"Oh, there's a new trainee--a noblewoman, would you believe that? I mean, we all know that Dior is some baron's get, but a noblewoman? Never thought I'd see one of those join the Guard. Not in a long while. And that's not the best part of it all."
Patiently, I close up the rip in the sleeve, tie off the stitches, and cut the thread. "What it is, then?"
"They say she used to be a page."
I suck in a startled breath; snip goes the scissors. I fold up the shirt and set it aside, pick up the next shirt that needs tailoring. Seems we have a mite in the Guard this time. The chalk marks on the black uniform indicate it needs to be altered, made smaller. "Never thought someone would actually go for it." How long has it been since the criers in the marketplace and the message riders were announcing that piece of foolishness from the king? He'd allowed women to try for their knighthood; thing is, a woman knows when something's enough for her. I never saw the point of that, at least. I've been saving up; if I ever see the day I open my own shop, I'll be happy enough with what I've done. I never saw the Lioness up close, only at a distance once. A lot shorter than the stories, and heavily built. I realise I've been staring at the uniform that needs alteration for a while now.
"She did. Truth, swear by the Goddess," Delle said. "You remember the Mindelan girl?"
I blink, not because Delle swears too lightly by the gods, but because I do remember the Mindelan girl. My uncle spoke to me of her; he'd once hoped that she could have taken me into her service. "The girl who left page training after her first year?" Washed out, and good riddance, some of the others were saying. With the Mindelan girl gone, any prospects of employment for me at the palace had also fled. "Wait, the Mindelan girl? She's the new trainee you're all a-jaw about?"
"Yes!" Delle exclaimed. She snipped off fraying threads and frowned down at the pair of breeches she was mending. "'Tis the Mindelan girl, for certain-sure."
Odd and odder still. This is what I remember: Keladry of Mindelan decided to become a knight; there was an uncommon fuss about it, because she'd been the first girl as said so, and far too old for the usual age at which them nobles begin at the palace. She'd gotten thrown out on her ear after the first year, and no one paid any attention after that. Only, I thought, it seemed that we had a name to put to the new trainee who was sending the Guard station into such a fuss. Keladry of Mindelan.
I twisted the uniform around in my hand, and wondered when she'd come in for her first fitting.
Maybe once we'd have seen it during Smackdown!