Post by madb on Sept 28, 2012 20:37:03 GMT -5
It happened all so quickly.
One moment, everything was peaceful. The early morning sunlight brushed past the window to land at Liesol's feet, from where she was sitting and strumming her lute in an absent-minded fashion. She was still in her night things and was not expecting company. Though many of the adults liked her, Liesol had never been all that quick to make friends among her own peer group. And as they were only visiting for a few months, she had felt no pressure to try.
Her eyes darted over at the door, which was still shut, and she made a face. Really, it was almost time for breakfast. The hold that they were staying at now were kind enough, because her mother was a genus and their harper an old friend, but too many more mornings of this would tire their patience. Liesol placed her lute down and was about to walk over--after all, she'd already brought up hot klah from the kitchens--when came the sound of a dragon's bugle.
Liesol, to put it in a polite manner, freaked the flip out. She rushed over to the window, stuck her head out (for a moment forgetting she wore nothing but her night things), her big brown eyes widening at the sight of a dragon swooping by.
"What's all that ruckus?" her mother grumped, behind her.
"Oh dear," Liesol said, "I think they are here on Search." she pushed a strand of hair behind her ear. How inspiring! If she could go down to the front where the dragon would land, then perhaps she could take note of the expressions of those chosen. It would surely make for a good little tune.
"What?" her mother came over and squinted out over her daughter's shoulder. "Oh, pah," she said, "that's nothing to do with us."
Liesol bit her lip.
"We have to go down anyway, to eat. And anyways, Mother, you're being rude." She said, turning to face her mother, her voice still soft and polite, "You barely do anything but talk to Jeorge, when the lord and lady holder here have so generously let us stay in these rooms without any fee."
Her mother eyed her sharply. "A master's due," she said, voice gruff.
"That doesn't mean you take advantage of it and show no gratitude. Why, I don't believe you've even talked with them! You are constantly late for morning meals, and I know they've sought you out."
"I don't get on with holders, you know that," Esmee growled. "That's why I was never assigned to a journeyman position outside the Hall. Shards, Liesol, what are you getting at?"
Liesol, sensing weakness, grabbed on to her mother's arm. "This is a hold-wide event, mother. Surely feelings will be smoothed over if we show our appreciation by watching the brave candidates of this hold leave to Impress dragons. Just watching will be seen as a sign of respect for those Searched, which reflects as respect to the hold." It was pure wheedling, and hopefully it would work.
Esmee grunted. "Why you never show this kind of attitude beyond me, I don't know." She sighed, and pinched the bridge of her nose, as if to ward off headache. "Fine! Grab me my coat. We'll go greet the rider, as it is owed."
Her daughter paled. "Oh. Meet the rider? Perhaps I could just hang out in the back and ..."
"Nonsense. If I have to get up and at pleasant and this forsaken hour, you'll do it also." Her mother reached over and picked up a long coat, which she buttoned up more to hide the nightgown underneath than because she was any fashion of cold. "Hurry up and get dressed!" She winked as she left.
That would teach her to mess with Esmee...
"Oh dear." Liesol said, again, as her mother left. She sighed, and then took a deep breath and puffed out her chest. She could do this. She could look at a rider and his dragon, and not freak out. A rider and his big, huge, flame-spouting dragon. Or a rider and her big, huge, flame-spouting... this wasn't working.
She managed to get dressed, at least, and then scampered down to catch up with her mother. She almost ran over five drudges, one cook, and face-first into a wall before she got there. But get there she did, even if she was out of breath.
Her mother was talking to the rider when she approached, but Liesol's eyes were all on the dragon. The reeeeallly big dragon. Or, at least, to her untrained eye it seemed that way. They were so huge up close! Liesol was half terrified, half sorry that she didn't bring her lute, to try and capture the feeling of being close to a dragon for the first time...
"Liesol," her mother warned.
"Oh! Oh! My apologies," she said, floundering over. She waved her hands very quickly in front of her. "I was only distracted because, well, your dragon is very big. And this is the first time I've seen one. I mean. Seen one up close that is. Of course I've seen one. Everyone's seen a dragon before, right, that would be weird to have never seen one. You'd have to be locked up by your--oh. No. Not to suggest my mother would lock me up or anything. She would never--"
"Liesol. Rambling."
"Right. Sorry," Liesol said, her face now entirely red. She held out her hand, shyly. "Um. I'm Liesol, a harper. I could help you track down candidates, if you'd like?" That last bit was hushed, as if she could barely speak the words. She ducked her head down. That was wherrybrained of her. Of course every boy and girl of age, willing, and health, would already be on the way over... stupid, stupid!
One moment, everything was peaceful. The early morning sunlight brushed past the window to land at Liesol's feet, from where she was sitting and strumming her lute in an absent-minded fashion. She was still in her night things and was not expecting company. Though many of the adults liked her, Liesol had never been all that quick to make friends among her own peer group. And as they were only visiting for a few months, she had felt no pressure to try.
Her eyes darted over at the door, which was still shut, and she made a face. Really, it was almost time for breakfast. The hold that they were staying at now were kind enough, because her mother was a genus and their harper an old friend, but too many more mornings of this would tire their patience. Liesol placed her lute down and was about to walk over--after all, she'd already brought up hot klah from the kitchens--when came the sound of a dragon's bugle.
Liesol, to put it in a polite manner, freaked the flip out. She rushed over to the window, stuck her head out (for a moment forgetting she wore nothing but her night things), her big brown eyes widening at the sight of a dragon swooping by.
"What's all that ruckus?" her mother grumped, behind her.
"Oh dear," Liesol said, "I think they are here on Search." she pushed a strand of hair behind her ear. How inspiring! If she could go down to the front where the dragon would land, then perhaps she could take note of the expressions of those chosen. It would surely make for a good little tune.
"What?" her mother came over and squinted out over her daughter's shoulder. "Oh, pah," she said, "that's nothing to do with us."
Liesol bit her lip.
"We have to go down anyway, to eat. And anyways, Mother, you're being rude." She said, turning to face her mother, her voice still soft and polite, "You barely do anything but talk to Jeorge, when the lord and lady holder here have so generously let us stay in these rooms without any fee."
Her mother eyed her sharply. "A master's due," she said, voice gruff.
"That doesn't mean you take advantage of it and show no gratitude. Why, I don't believe you've even talked with them! You are constantly late for morning meals, and I know they've sought you out."
"I don't get on with holders, you know that," Esmee growled. "That's why I was never assigned to a journeyman position outside the Hall. Shards, Liesol, what are you getting at?"
Liesol, sensing weakness, grabbed on to her mother's arm. "This is a hold-wide event, mother. Surely feelings will be smoothed over if we show our appreciation by watching the brave candidates of this hold leave to Impress dragons. Just watching will be seen as a sign of respect for those Searched, which reflects as respect to the hold." It was pure wheedling, and hopefully it would work.
Esmee grunted. "Why you never show this kind of attitude beyond me, I don't know." She sighed, and pinched the bridge of her nose, as if to ward off headache. "Fine! Grab me my coat. We'll go greet the rider, as it is owed."
Her daughter paled. "Oh. Meet the rider? Perhaps I could just hang out in the back and ..."
"Nonsense. If I have to get up and at pleasant and this forsaken hour, you'll do it also." Her mother reached over and picked up a long coat, which she buttoned up more to hide the nightgown underneath than because she was any fashion of cold. "Hurry up and get dressed!" She winked as she left.
That would teach her to mess with Esmee...
"Oh dear." Liesol said, again, as her mother left. She sighed, and then took a deep breath and puffed out her chest. She could do this. She could look at a rider and his dragon, and not freak out. A rider and his big, huge, flame-spouting dragon. Or a rider and her big, huge, flame-spouting... this wasn't working.
She managed to get dressed, at least, and then scampered down to catch up with her mother. She almost ran over five drudges, one cook, and face-first into a wall before she got there. But get there she did, even if she was out of breath.
Her mother was talking to the rider when she approached, but Liesol's eyes were all on the dragon. The reeeeallly big dragon. Or, at least, to her untrained eye it seemed that way. They were so huge up close! Liesol was half terrified, half sorry that she didn't bring her lute, to try and capture the feeling of being close to a dragon for the first time...
"Liesol," her mother warned.
"Oh! Oh! My apologies," she said, floundering over. She waved her hands very quickly in front of her. "I was only distracted because, well, your dragon is very big. And this is the first time I've seen one. I mean. Seen one up close that is. Of course I've seen one. Everyone's seen a dragon before, right, that would be weird to have never seen one. You'd have to be locked up by your--oh. No. Not to suggest my mother would lock me up or anything. She would never--"
"Liesol. Rambling."
"Right. Sorry," Liesol said, her face now entirely red. She held out her hand, shyly. "Um. I'm Liesol, a harper. I could help you track down candidates, if you'd like?" That last bit was hushed, as if she could barely speak the words. She ducked her head down. That was wherrybrained of her. Of course every boy and girl of age, willing, and health, would already be on the way over... stupid, stupid!