Uncertain Encounters (Gideon/Elske)

[Harbor]

Elske wondered often if Camarat disapproved of her choosing to fight with the local guards and soldiers as much as he disapproved of the brawl she’d only had a hand in instigating the day he’d taken her from the jailhouse attached to the castle. It had been more than a month already and she still didn’t fully understand his reasons for it—she probably never would—but she was beginning to suspect that he did generous things for people simply out of habit. What he could do to assist, he automatically wanted to. It wouldn’t be out of line with what she’d observed with him thus far. If that were the case, chances were he had decided she would disapprove of the thought of having been done a favor. Either that or he was still waiting for her to cut and run for some other purpose, but for the moment that was not yet her plan.

Elske ducked a swing from the soldier she fought with now, and instantly straightened to smack him in the side of the head while his arm was in his own way, not wanting to her either herself or him by knuckling him. He yanked his elbow back toward her face and she lurched backward. She raised the T-topped hatchet in her right hand—she’d left the leather guard on both this one and the one in her left hand—to hook into his elbow to twist his arm away, grinning as she used the handle of the left hatchet to deflect his right arm, the one carrying the practice sword. He swept a leg forward to catch one of hers and shoved, throwing her onto her back.

Elske had had to teach Fenir a new command so he wouldn’t simply stand out of their reach and pace. She’d taught him to stay, but not to be off his guard. Before entering Camarat’s service she’d never sparred with someone for fun before without either participant intending to hurt the other. Fenir had misunderstood the purpose of her first friendly fight on the grounds and dragged the other man off by his belt, as he hadn’t yet smelled blood and Elske hadn’t told him to. She was glad he hadn’t left the poor guard with teeth marks, and that the guard’s first instinct upon facing a snarling, ninety-pound beast of a hound was to attempt to back away instead of drawing steel on it.

Elske kneed the man in the stomach before he could land on top of her and pin her, managing to get a foot against his hip and shove, throwing him just enough to the side that she was able to get the second foot up and do it again.

Three minutes later she had his neck pinned between the handles and blades of her two hatchets, but held him there only long enough to see that he too agreed their fight was done. He grinned at her. ”One of these days someone’ll beat you, Elske,” he laughed as she and he both got to their feet.

She clasped his forearm in the closest thing to camaraderie that she’d expressed since her arrival. ”Looking forward to it, Brensen.” She glanced down at the handle of one of her hatchets with a grimace, noting the long crack twisting up the center of one. ”Oy, you know where I can hassle a carpenter? A good one? This bloody thing has split on me three damn times in the last two years alone.”

He considered, brow furrowed. ”Ahh, you could try the Marksens-hold? Down thataway, like.” He gestured.

Elske flipped the hatchet in hand, returning the unmarked one to its loop on her belt. ”All right, thanks.” If it had been the blade or the pick that had chipped she could have repaired it herself, with the proper tools. But carpentry was not a skill of hers, and never had been. Wood was commonly only good for burning. She dug her pocket-blade out of her pocket and opened the flat-tipped piece, digging the screws out of the head of the hatchet so she didn’t have to carry around the damaged handle any longer than she had to. She wondered how exaggeratedly Camarat would roll his eyes when he saw the grass stains all up the back of her off-white shirt, except where the brown leather vest had protected the cloth. At least brown trousers didn’t show stains as easily, that was why she liked brown. Black showed dirt far too easily. As far as a defensible color went, it was overrated.

[Joker]

As Gideon walked through the gates of Uru'baen there seemed to be nothing out of the ordinary with the city, considering that it was the Capital and all. Although he had never really been to any other cities so this may be fairly extravagant in others eyes. Gideon just grimaced at the fact of the state of the people that he saw around him near the gate. Everyone looked so grim and solemn that is everyone except for the guards that he was passing who where laughing at each other with mugs in hand. "Pathetic" Gideon mumbled as he walked by continuing towards the higher parts of the city. He had one thought on his mind to find this Elske women  and confront her about the parchment that he had found in his fathers study. Either she would tell him willingly or he may be able to bribe her into the matter he wouldn't leave without answers.

Once he was fairly close to the citadel he stopped at an inn which he hoped that he could at least find some information on Elske and maybe where he could find her that would be a fairly large help. Walking up to the counter Gideon slid into one of the stools, slowly a heavy set man from behind the counter approached holding a cloth and mug in hand. " Ain't seen your sorry lookin mug in here before just passin through or what."  The man asked still rubbing over the grimy mug whilst speaking. Gideon slowly looked up at the man " I'm looking for information on a specific person and if the information is good their just might be a few pieces of gold in it for you" he said ever so calmly. The man behind the counter set down the mug and leaned in and whispered to Gideon " Now what do you need to know."  Grimacing at the man's rank breath Gideon explained to the man "I'm looking for a woman named Elske any clue where I may be able to find her." After a little thought the man replied " Now that you mention I think I've heard some thing about her I heard one of the town guard talking about her saying something about going to a carpenter I believe there's one around here somewhere."

Thanking the man and handing over a few pieces of gold Gideon left heading in the direction that the bartender had told him. as he arrived he saw a slender women with auburn hair. Walking up behind her Gideon asked " Are you the Elske that I have heard so much about."

[Harbor]

She had the time to visit the carpenter today, but Elske didn’t want to ruin her good mood by pressing herself in among all the crowds. So she left the handle and hatchet head next to the keep wall for Fenir to look after—there was a soft soldier crouching with him rubbing his belly now, the spoiled hound—until she felt either resolute or desperate enough to bother with it. Since it was such a nice day out she sat on one of the lower fences instead and criticized the local pages’ archery while she sharpened one of her shorter knives, taking her time because one’s free time was not meant to be rushed.

”Put your whole bloody shoulder into it, Farley,” she called to one of the older boys. ”Are you tightening your sister’s corset or are you drawing a bowstring? Come on.”

Farley rolled his eyes at her as a few of his classmates chuckled, and indeed drew the string back further the next time he nocked an arrow. ”Better,” she said. ”Markan, stop tipping your head so far to the side, you’ll learn to sight the arrow just fine without it.”

A voice too close behind her made her jump and Elske leaped off the fence and spun to face the speaker, scowling. ”Chances are I don’t want to talk to the same people you’ve been yammering with,” she replied, eyeing him warily. There was something….smug about him. Plus he was a noble, and she had yet to meet one she’d felt was worth the time to talk to. ”Why?” She put her whetstone and cloth back in their pouch in case she felt the need to use both hands, and absently lifted the dagger to inspect it for scratches she hadn’t yet seen.

[Joker]

Almost unable to hold back his laughter, at the fact that Elske had almost jumped out of her boots when he spoke. To Gideon it seemed almost sad that the soldier that she had been instructing seemed to be taking her words to heart. Not that the soldiers in general where in a sorry state themselves. Some that where not older than eighteen. Perhaps this women would be someone to watch out for but Gideon doubted that. Just by looking at her she didn't seem like one to start a fight over nothing. Although one could not be to sure about this fact. If worse came to worse and he did have to fight he didn't necessarily like the odds that he was faced with. Surely the soldiers would help her but that was not even a concern in his mind.

Smirking as she spoke Gideon "Well that's to bad you might just like the person." Gideon smirked after his remark just by the way that she was looking at him Gideon already knew she didn't think highly of him. Doesn't matter either way if all went well he wouldn't be seeing her again.

Although this would need for her to be cooperative in the matter. As if a wave had washed over Gideon his mood changed. His smug smirk went away and he retrieved a scroll from the folds of his cloak. "This is the reason that I have sought you out." Gideon replied as he handed her the parchment. Hopefully she would understand the contents of it better than he could. Which would make sense since her name was their or at least he hoped that it was her. If not than he would be back on a wild goose hunt again.

[Harbor]

Elske was still eyeing him warily. He was heavier than she, but not much taller, though she was tall for a woman. He looked half her age, but she looked like half his. Elske tried not to think about the fact that she was going on eighty and still looked like she was thirty—people expected different things from thirty-year-old women than eighty-year-olds. And she could do with the peace of being treated like an eighty-year-old. Even if people didn’t like you, at that age they tended to instinctually treat you with respect. It helped that she was gradually revising her long habit of automatically treating people with disregard, however; it was the only reason she’d managed to arduously build this kind of rapport with the guards and pages.

There was something odd about his face. She couldn’t place it, but there was something lurking under his skin that drew her attention toward it while still eluding her specific notice. It made her want to dislike him on the spot. Mysteries vexed her. The man reached into his cloak and Elske watched as he tugged free a tightly wound scroll, extending it toward her. She thought to herself that it better not be another bloody arrest warrant because Camarat had already seen to a few of them after word had been slow to spread about her prior records having been ‘disregarded’ when he took her from the prison weeks ago. She appreciated though that those who had recognized her hadn’t simply attempted to snatch her from the grounds. It would not do well for her to damage any more soldiers attempting—rightfully—to do their jobs while in the wizard’s service. It reflected poorly on him, if nothing else.

Elske unrolled the parchment and smoothed the sides so the corners didn’t curl in as steeply, grimacing and attempting not to sigh. She’d rather see the arrest warrant—which she had come to recognize—than this block of fine script. Elske hadn’t had to read more than a few sentences in the last several decades, and while she’d been fluent once upon a time the effort to dredge up that skill after such a long gap was treacherously slow-going. She did her best not to squint at the fancy calligraphy, and to have to reread too many times to be sure she understood each of the beginning sentences, but as the sentences formed a more coherent and relevant picture in her memories, her interest aided in her comprehension.

….entrust this child to your upkeep and raising. His true mother is presently a prisoner of the royal dungeons, for reasons we cannot foreclose, a woman by the name of Elskenari. Whether you choose to enlighten him in the matter of his true parentage will be your prerogative….

Elske’s throat and every bone iced over and she shoved the letter into his chest, tone suddenly accusatory. ”Who sent you here? Who are you? They told me my child died, within a week of his birth, if you could even call it that.” Her voice rose as her demands did, and Fenir lurched up from his shady spot in the grass, bolting to her side. Elske stuck out a hand behind her back to form the gesture telling him to yield, and to watch, but not yet to guard. Her eyes narrowed and she asked, more pointedly, ”Who are you?” The ice began to crack. ”When were you born?”

[Joker]

(Sorry about the late post been outside a lot with the good weather here)

Gideon was getting fairly annoyed of the look that Elske had been giving him. Not only was it getting tiresome it was bothering him. As if she was trying to look into him trying to deter him from something. Gideon did not know what nor did he care for what it was. Although Gideon was returning the glance himself subconsciously. Trying to understand what the note had meant in itself there was no way that this was the Elske that he was in search for. At best she was around half his age perhaps mid to late twenties or very early thirties. Even if this wasn't her what harm could there be in showing her if she talked about it then he would probably just come back and cut her down. Most likely when she was not around her guard buddies the rough edges of the plan would eventually be figured out.

Gideon chewed at the inside of his lip as Elske seemed to be examining his face fairly closely. Now it was really starting to get annoying not the fact that she was looking. She almost seemed to know him and not in a good way. Had he ever met her before if so Gideon wouldn't have remembered but that didn't matter. After handing her the scroll she didn't honestly seem fazed by the fact. Perhaps she was use to receiving letters or warrants most likely the second. She did not in the slightest look like a noble maybe she was a thief for all Gideon knew. Although her demeanor was not that of a thief she was fairly composed and unlike thieves who always seemed jumpy. 

After unrolling it and sighing Gideon raised a hand to his temple massaging it. Just at the sigh itself Gideon could tell that this was going to be tedious. Perhaps Gideon would ask if she wanted him to read it to her. He smirked at that maybe give her a lesson in literacy whilst he was at it. Before he could ask she seemed to be done although she was rereading it. Most likely for a better understanding if not anything else. Through her struggling she did at least seem interested in the letter. 

Instinctively putting his hands up to his chest to grab the letter as she shoved it into his chest. At the push Gideon did step back slightly at the contact. Looking at her face he knew that Elske was slightly not very happy with him. "Hey, I sent myself and as for who I am I'm Gideon Reinhart not really sure if that would ring any bells. And who do you mean by they." Over to her side Gideon saw a large dog approach reaching but not grabbing his scimitar he made sure that he was ready. As the dog stopped a few feet away his hand returned to his side. "As for your question I already answered and I will answer again Gideon Reinhart." Finally it seemed as if Elske exploded "On March third if memory serves. Why does it matter."

[Joker]

Bump.

[Harbor]

Elske wanted to run. Her muscles had twisted tight like bowstrings beneath her skin and she wanted to release them before they snapped. But now was not the time, not if this letter’s implications meant what she assumed they did…. Not that she felt she could necessarily trust any of the nobility, particularly those with ties to the dead king. ”The guards,” she napped, in response to his inquiry as to the identity of who ‘they’ were. ”The jailkeepers. Whatever you want to call them all. Some of them were ex-soldiers.” Fenir paced unhappily behind her, eyes remaining pinned to their unexpected visitor, but his training held fast.

March third…. She hadn’t been able to keep track of time while imprisoned. Most of them hadn’t seen sunlight in years. The damp smelled different at different times of the year though, and the guards had sometimes discussed which markets and fairs were happening aboveground, in what her fellow prisoners called the real world, and that had been as good an indication as any of the time of year. It had been early spring when she’d given birth, though she’d never known the month or day.

Elske made the effort to calm herself, as verbally attacking those offering information about this part of her life didn’t automatically deserve it. ”Are you the child mentioned in the letter?” she wanted to know, pointing to it, voice still hard but no longer on the verge of a shout. ”March third, thirty-nine years ago?” She swallowed. "That's when I gave birth, and my child was taken from me."

Why did she still want to run? This was the first information regarding her childbirth she’d come across in decades, since the day they told her the child she’d never seen was dead. Why was she suddenly so afraid of being confronted with the motherhood she’d never had? Perhaps it was the fact that she didn’t look like anyone’s mother, let alone his. He looked older than she did, and cleaner, finer. She felt dirty beside him in a way she hadn’t even standing beside the nobles Camarat regularly had to deal with. And that alone made her want to hate him, even if her pummeled and buried memories wanted to reach out and touch him. Perhaps it was just the circumstances, the way he’d startled her, and the way he’d looked at her, but she was indeed afraid to be proven the mother of this man. And to see his reaction upon discovering he was indeed the child of peasants, one of whom had been in and out of prison multiple times throughout her life.

[Joker]

Looking her over Gideon noticed a slight shiver move throughout Elske perhaps of fear with the letters contents, speaking calmly with a superior tone " Now now there's no need to be angry I'm only trying to understand all of this just like you" eyeing the dog he held a hand close to his scimitar hilt and thought to himself. I'd rather not kill it but if this goes bad i may have to, he shrugs and lets out a sigh.

Returning his gaze back to Elske she seemed deep in thought. If he understood the contents of the letter could he be the child explained in the letter? A grimace covers his face, how could this women be his mother. She was or at least looked less than half his age and worse of all he would be the child of a peasant. No he was not a peasants child his mother and father would have told him about this or he hoped they would have. Either way it wouldn't matter they were both dead no use in wasting time trying to get information from the dead. Elske although less helpful than he would have hoped for knew something and he needed to know. So if not anything else he would have the true meaning of the letter. 

Thankful that her verbal battering was over he shrugged " I would assume so unless i had a brother..."  looks you over " or thing living with us" Gideon smirk slowly dissolves " what are you saying, who do you assume that I am" he thought back through his life his family... his wife, his sister was all of it a some sick and twisted lie was he never meant to have that life. No he deserved that life although none of it seemed fair looking back on it, but that was his life not a life with this women.