"Well," Bryn nudged her shoulder into her, "give me the rest. What's he like? Look like?"
Myra dug a hand into the back of her neck and sighed, "Scrawny, really bookish. Don't think I ever spotted him not nose deep in a book, when he wasn't doing his chores. Um, thick warm lips that could look so dorky when he smiled and..." she hefted the spyglass up to her sight before sighing, "the prettiest damn eyes you ever saw."
"Really?" Bryn giggled. "Prettier than Prince Cailan's?"
"Ugh," Myra spat at the thought. "That's my brother you're talking about."
Her friend shrugged, "Doesn't mean I can't look."
Trying to not think about her stinky footed brother in any form of being attractive, Myra twisted the spyglass back and forth through the crowds. A fresh line of horses clip-clopped in something of formation ahead of what looked like those bringing up the near rear of the parade. Twisting her line of sight around, Myra noticed a few of the banners of Redcliffe, boys her age all waving at the crowd. A man with dark skin standing proud and...
No. No way.
She spun right on the brown line in a sea of white dots. He towered a good head above the other boys, his eyes focused before him as if afraid of any distractions. The jaw was chiseled and swooped back, his chin slightly wider and more pronounced than she remembered. How he carried himself emphasized the wide shoulders, his chest muscles thrust out as he marched with pride. He'd shaved his head down, a fact Myra saw on occasion, though she enjoyed the really curly hair too.
It couldn't be him. There was another in the mix, that was all. Somewhere down there was the same skinny kid she knew when she too was a skinny kid. Myra wasn't a kid anymore but she stayed annoyingly skinny. About to break away and search through the back half, Myra paused when the unknown man turned in her direction. Bright amber eyes beamed at someone in the crowd. Something must have caught his fancy as he lifted his hand and he smiled exactly like the boy that walked smack dab into a low beam on accident.
"Holy shit," Myra gasped.
"What?" Bryn tried to scoot closer, but she'd risk falling off the roof.
"That's him," Myra pointed to the body that apparently belonged to Gavin Rutherford.
"Who is?" her friend blinked.
"The brown skinned one, that's Gavin."
Bryn yanked the spyglass out of Myra's limp fingers and began to inspect Gavin. A whistle erupted out of her teeth, "Sweet Maker! If that's your idea of scrawny, I'd hate to see your brawny. Damn, though. Did you see his arms? Look." Shamelessly, Bryn pointed at the muscles straining from a tunic designed to go on a skinny fifteen year old boy, not a man.
Unaware of the eyes on him, Gavin continued to march head held high with the rest of the convoy towards the palace. "Nice ass too," Bryn continued to narrate, making Myra squirm even worse. "And you got with him?" She yanked down the spyglass to eye up Myra, "Really?"
"Yes!" Myra staggered up to her toes, growing hot on her face. "Why would I lie about that?"
"Because, if I was sent off to some forced school camp to learn mage shit and there was someone that hot running around I'd pretend I made out with him. A lot. Maybe write it down too."
"He didn't, he wasn't. It was different. He was different! Weirdly goofy, but sweet." That man intimidated the hell out of Myra, while the Gavin she remembered just made her want to jump in puddles and cuddle under trees with. It couldn't be him. There had to be a mistake.
Rising up to her feet, Myra eyed up the roof beside her. Not too far. Breaking into a run, she leaped onto the next building. "Where are you going?" Bryn shouted, waving the lost spyglass at her.
"To see if it's really Gavin or not," Myra called back, already leaping to a story below her. There was no way she'd get to them until the entire mass converged at the palace. Sliding down a ladder, Myra hit the ground running. She had to duck under someone's laundry, already spinning her heels through the alienage shortcut. Not a lot of people knew if they leapt over one wall, ducked below a passthrough, and then hopped over the river, it was nothing more than climbing a few wedged out stones of the viaduct and another palace wall to wind up right inside the royal gardens.
She'd been taking the shortcut since she was ten, sometimes her mother watching but just as often left on her own. Normally, a few of the elven neighbors would wave to her and ask if she was off to see her father, but today everyone was either at work or watching the parade. Hurling her body over the river of sewage, Myra held her breath to keep from smelling it and climbed upward.
While the exercise wasn't much out of the norm, her heart wouldn't stop racing. What was its problem? She'd done this run dozens or hundreds of times before. Sometimes without either of her parents knowing, usually because she was mad at one or the other and wanted to stay with the not mean one. It was no big deal.
Warm brown fingers curling through her hair. A voice whispering, "I like it when it's down. I mean, because it's soft to touch, but the braid looks nice too."
Myra tried to shake off the memory, but in leaving that younger, more naive Gavin in the dust a new horror clung to her. What if he didn't remember her? Maybe he'd kissed so many girls since then she'd be nothing to him. Or worse, what if he didn't want to admit to knowing her? What if he found her embarrassing?
Her body tumbled her over the wall and Myra landed feet first into a dirt patch. There used to be sky blue flowers growing here, but the gardener gave up and decided it worked best as a landing pad instead. Her brain was telling her to turn around, to head home and tell her mom she saw Gavin, therefore her job was done. She got an eye on him, it's all good. No reason to drag this...
"Lady Myra!"
Ah shit.
"Karelle," Myra turned to find her father's Chamberlain bustling towards her.
"If you're here to see the King, I'm afraid he's embroiled in meetings that..."
"Don't worry," Myra interrupted, "I'm not going to yank him away from business I'm sure you had to trick him into." Karelle didn't even flinch at the implications. Everyone knew the king's opinion on dealing with some people and work in general. "Actually, I was hoping to meet the Arl's group."
"Oh, Arl Teagan? I didn't realize you knew each other."
He was kind-of her great uncle in a way her dad never explained well. But that wasn't it. "Actually, there's a boy coming to join the squire group."
Karelle pinched her eyes together, "Squire? The squires were all assigned months ago. Curious." She seemed to think Myra was lying, an understandable assumption as she would on occasion sneak into the palace for her own means. Like that time her and Bryn stole the entire Satinalia goose. They wanted to rescue it from slaughter, and were only eleven at the time. Her mother was going to make them return it, when the goose bit Bryn and scurried up the Alienage tree where it refused to come down. "Here," the Chamberlain smiled, "allow me to present you."
"That..." Myra was about to wave her off, saying it wasn't necessary, when she caught the glint in Karelle's eyes. She may be old, but the woman would handily truss up Myra and dump her in front of her mother if she caught the king's bastard daughter doing anything underhanded.
"That would be lovely," Myra tried again, fading in beside the Chamberlain. It took forever for Karelle to greet everyone in the pack of nobles trying to find their shit and wipe the smiles off their faces. Lord this, Lady that, titles whipped around Myra's lofted head. She tried to keep above it all by staring at the sky, but then Karelle would feel the need to introduce her to all these fancy people and they'd have to greet her. Bastard though she may be, she had that fancy blood in her which necessitated some manner of acting like a total prat about such things.
Peering through the crowds that were growing to thronging levels, Myra was about to give up hope, maybe say hi to Teagan before heading home, when she caught a flash of brown hidden in the peaches and tans. Her head pivoted to find Gavin coming to a halt beside a knight in full armor. That one wasn't wearing the colors of Redcliffe but Denerim. Was he being ordered to his new
digs already or...?
Nope, the knight spotted a woman in the mix and ran to her instead. Poor Gavin seemed bereft of where he belonged, his hands banging together in concern.
"Is that the young man you mentioned?" Karelle whispered in Myra's ear. The sound threw her off so fast, Myra practically leapt out of her boots. She had no idea the Chamberlain snuck up beside her, she'd been too fixated on Gavin. Crap.
"I would assume so," the woman smiled, almost knowingly now that she got a look at him. Parting through the fields with Myra hobbling behind her, Karelle called to Gavin. "Excuse me, young man." He didn't turn, seeming to be certain that it had nothing to do with him. The terror that she'd be unrecognized by him gripped tighter to Myra and she tried to hide behind Karelle. As the woman had to have been part giant it wasn't that difficult.
Finally, Gavin turned to the Chamberlain and pointed at his chest in surprise. "Me?"
"Yes," Karelle sighed, 'country rubes' clearly hidden in the exasperation. "I have a young lady here who wanted to say hello," she twisted her head around and stepped to the side revealing the girl hiding behind her.
Shit. Wiping off her pants as if she was suddenly self conscious of the stains, Myra tried to bide her time before facing down amber eyes that'd cloud in confusion. He'd shake his head and claim he had no knowledge of this scrawny, straw haired girl. Humiliating Myra at the palace was practically a Ferelden pastime anymore.
After tugging her braid behind her, she finally stared right at Gavin. He blinked a moment in confusion, as was to be expected, then clapped his hands and rushed over. "Myra!"
Forgoing the etiquette all around them, Gavin extended his arms as if to sweep her into a big hug. She felt the beginnings of a blush on her cheeks at the idea, when he paused and seemed to feel the eyes around them. One arm went right back to rub the nape of his neck while the other drifted towards her for a handshake. "What are you...?" he began, before his dusky cheeks lit up red, "Right, you live here. Of course you'd be here in Denerim, and I guess your father lives here here, so..."
A breath filled Myra's lungs. He may have grown into a swan package, but there was that boy she remembered still inside. "My mom, she asked me to keep an eye out for you. Give you a proper Denerim welcome to the city. Make sure you get settled in, I guess."
"Your mom," the giddy smile shifted a moment into a frown, before his hooded eyes drifted around the throngs of people who all seemed to know someone at the palace. Whatever was eating him up snapped away and he seemed grateful. "Thank her, and your father for me."
"How's your mom?" Myra asked. She hadn't written as much to the Lady Rutherford as she should have. Actually, Myra was terrible about writing to anyone. It was how her and that first kiss fell apart. Distance and fickle attention spans.
"Good," Gavin nodded his head, "very good. Her and my father recently returned from a trip to Rivain."
"They went all the way to Rivain and didn't take you?"
The boy grimaced, "It was meant to be a sort of anniversary gift."
"Oh," Myra's eyes widened. She'd stayed with the Rutherfords for two summers and understood perfectly well why Gavin would have stayed behind. And Myra thought her parents were big into macking out all over each other. "Got it, don't blame you for a bit."
He smiled gratefully, and said, "It allowed me to continue my training."
"Yes," Karelle inserted herself into the conversation, "about that, young man. You are to be a squire apparently?"
"Yes, ma'am," he nodded crisply.
"Strange as we'd already assigned them all two months ago."
Gavin didn't bat an eye at that, "I am to replace a squire that was injured. The knight specifically requested one from Arl Teagan, ma'am."
That second Ma'am won Karelle over. Her war room stance didn't fade, but her eyes softened as she gazed over at this boy in a man's body. Maker's breath, how was Gavin so tall and broad? He looked like he couldn't even fit into the typical knight armor, never mind the squire outfits.
"Here," Karelle extended a hand to Gavin. "Allow me to take you to the knight's quarters. We'll check in with the commander and get this all squared up."
Gavin nodded his head and tugged up a rucksack he had at his feet. "Oh, thank you kindly," he nodded, moving to follow after the Chamberlain. Before turning away, he said to Myra, "I hope I'll be seeing you again." Together, the Chamberlain shifted the masses away while Gavin stared in awe at the palace behind her.
As Myra watched him vanish into the crowd she thought, Oh, you can count on it.
CHAPTER FIVE
Knights & Squires
The friendly Chamberlain led Gavin around outside the palace proper. He caught glimpses of the white-grey stone edifice and windows of all colors glittering like rainbows off the river. They'd been thrown open for the most part, on occasion shadows shuffling past, but none inside seemed to draw any attention to the boy being taken away from the gathered entourage. His trip across country was rather unexciting all things considered. For a time the Arl's son traveled with him, the two conserving across their horses about Denerim proper. While he offered to give Gavin a tour upon arrival, the fact a dozen advisor's flocked around their future Arl told him not to consider it a promise.
Besides, he'd rather set out on his own without any of his parents influence getting in the way.
"Through here," the Chamberlain paused, the fluffy skirts on her hips expanding to almost fill a smaller doorway. The entire structure was wooden and built on a slant. No doubt any furniture inside that wasn't tied down probably ended up in a pile with a slight nudging.
Shaking away the woodworker thoughts his father pressed into him, Gavin nodded his head in understanding. The woman, Karelle, tipped her head down a bit while Gavin had to nearly bend to his waist to make it without bumping himself. As he stood up, the pressing heat struck him first. His whole life he'd lived inside grey stone that was often open to the air circling the dark forest. It could become oppressive in high summer out in the fields, but it was pretty easy to cool down somewhere within the abbey.
There was no hiding from the heat inside this wooden oven. Dirt circled the middle, seeming to have been placed there on purpose, while bunk beds lined the sides. Each one had a single thin blanket tucked tight into it and at the foot of the beds sat two sets of chests. Was this where he'd be sleeping?
"Huh," the Chamberlain sighed, "I thought someone would be here. Well, this way." She tipped her head and guided him out of the barracks. "Did you run into any trouble on the roads?"
Gavin inched his fingers under the low beams, trying to shake off any concern rising inside of him that once again no one seemed to know he was coming. It struck him that the Chamberlain was talking to him. "No," he gasped out, then struggled to lower his voice, "no, it was rather quiet."
"Good, the King will be happy to hear that." Rounding past the wooden house filled with beds, Karelle guided him to an obvious training arena. Racks to hold weapons sat against the walls of small sheds, but were empty. Stacks of straw bales circled three fighting areas, which also were empty.
Perhaps in deference to the heat, a pile of people sat near a single olive tree. Its thin branches required them all to cluster tight together, heads of short hair drifting near and gazing off into the distance, until one of them caught sight of Karelle. Slowly, one person, then more stood up, fingers gesturing at the Chamberlain, before landing upon the boy behind her.
"Ho there," Karelle called, pausing before she stepped onto the first straw bale. "You squires, where's the man in charge?"
A boy perhaps Gavin's age or a bit younger stood up. He had the tight cropped blonde hair that seemed popular amongst the squire set, a tuft of it standing up at the front. Wiping a hand down his legs to get rid of the grass he shrugged, "Ol' Bandy's off cooling down inside."
Karelle sighed, "Why am I surprised? The man is to remain in charge of you during court matters, but will he listen?" She turned on her heel and to Gavin said, "Stay here, I will f
ind him and sort all this mess out."
Uncertain what to do, Gavin nodded his head dumbstruck as the Chamberlain walked towards the palace proper and vanished inside its gilded walls. Clinging tight to the canvas strap across his back, he wished Myra had remained by his side. At least she would have some idea of where things were if this all went pear shaped fast.
"So," that first boy that stood up stepped closer to Gavin. "What are you doing here? One of Karelle's new lackeys?"
That got a cackle from half of the group that swarmed him, all boys in various heights and weights. Some with dark hair, more blondes than not. A couple were skinny as a rail, but most were built in the fashion sometimes called meathead. One who staggered around the edge of the group was more rotund and shorter, but he had nearly a full mustache perched upon his upper lip. As the group moved towards Gavin like a pack of wolves singling out a lone elk, he caught sight of one shadow remaining beside the trunk of the tree.
Standing up straighter, Gavin met this boy at first eye to eye. Then, as the boy drew closer, Gavin had to look down. "I'm a squire."
"Oh?" the boy laughed, jabbing an elbow into one behind him. "Is that so?" His eyes were bluer than ice and the face twice as cold. He seemed unhappy about not quite making Gavin's height and tried to rise up on his toes in intimidation.
"Yes," Gavin glanced about at the group who were clearly flocking around the obvious leader. Oh Maker, what trouble did he run head first into?
"Funny that," the boy scratched along his chin, "'cause we're all squires and I've never seen your ugly face around here before."
"I'm a replacement," Gavin said, trying to slow the rising beat of his heart. Surely Karelle would return soon, and this would all be sorted out. They'd prove him in the right, and he and all the boys would become the best of friends.
"A replacement, eh?" the boy slid closer, his breath wafting over Gavin as he ran his eyes up and down the new guy's frame. "What makes you think a farmer like you...? Shit," he pinched his nose and waved a hand back and forth like mad, "You stink of shit!" The gaggle backing him up began to chortle, while Gavin's blood boiled. "Were you rolling in it on the way in? Or is that it? You come from a shit farm where your daddy and grandaddy did nothing but farm shit all day?"
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