Kidnapping The Princess

[Alistair]

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What did he want her to do? Kick. Scream. Be a princess about this and not this person he was seeing. Not once had she complained (not that it had done any good), and not once had she crowded and cried. Weren't princesses supposed to be there spoiled, pampered, and so silly things like faint at the sight of dirt? Not carry buckets of water a half mile with no bitching types?

Alistair watches her for a long, silent moment when she asked that while thinking. Finally he spoke, "Put the dirty clothing in the water and scrub til it's clean. Then hang them on the ropes to dry." It was harder then it sounded and there was allot to wash." He glanced over to where Mae was playing tag or some chasing game and wondered when he could speak to her. He knew he needed her help but was not sure how to ask for it.

While he let her work, he stood over a few feet from her, arms crosses over his chest and watching her. "It is a hard life." he agreed softly to what she had said earlier, his voice seeming deeper and distance as if he was more thinking out loud rather then to her. "You spend everyday working just to live and hope one day a king does does send his men to kill you or you family simply because you were born what you are. These people . . . They would be safer out of Camelot. Yet they stay. They call it home." He did not understand why they stayed, but he was going to help make them and other druids safe, so they could stay.

[PAGE FIVE!!]

[isadora]

The thought of throwing a tantrum hadn't really occurred to Isadora; honestly, she'd never seen the point of screaming and throwing things about in order to get her way. When she was young, her mother had never tolerated that sort of behavior, and after she died, she didn't want to disappoint her. Since then, she'd found other ways to get what she wanted when it was necessary, or learned to accept not having her way when it wasn't necessary. She might not like these chores, but she didn't think that if she made a fuss that would make them go away; he'd probably just tie her up and gag her.

It sounded simple enough, and Isadora nodded, tying up her long sleeves to keep them out of the way. She frowned with distaste as she picked up some of the clothing and dropped it in the bucket, she might not complain or cry about it, but this work was definitely beneath her. She had spent years learning and studying, not to sit by a campfire washing spoiled unmentionables, but to work for the good of a country full of people. He still didn't understand that, and she doubted he ever would. He thought her only job was to sit around, randomly doling out death and dismemberment to undeserving children.

"It's their land, they can't just leave it." That, she understood; even if she and her family were driven out of power, if she survived their downfall, if there was any way she could remain in Gwent and survive, she would. There was a connection to the land that you couldn't just replace. It was another thing she knew he wouldn't understand; a wanderer couldn't understand the connection you had to your home, it was deeper than simply a place they lived. "Could you please stop with the preaching? I get it! I'm a terrible person, and life is unfair. Find some new material or shut up, please." The chores she could deal with; his preaching was getting on her nerves.

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[Alistair]

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His mind came back to the now when she started yelling at him. He stared at her for a short moment, a grin his his rugged face as if he thought her merely amusing. She was a fire ball of trouble this one. He knew he should at the very lest threaten to gag her for speaking to him as such but he didn't have the heart.

Maybe he was getting to her after all? He should use this break down her ice cold calm, that annoyed the hell out of him. Prove to them both she was only human. Just as emotional as everyone here.

Instead he took a few steps closer to her, and sat down, leaning against one of the trees that held the rope to hang the wet clothing on to dry. It was not often people told him to shut up, as most tired to get him to talk more. So, there he sat, silently laughing at her, seeming to follow her orders for once.

He began to pick some of the tall blades of grass and start braiding them together, and tieing them in places. He keep a close watch on her from where he sat mere feet away, but he would let her word in silence if she wanted. Poor little princess, all torn and tattered. If only Papa could see her now. What would the king think of his daughter, washing a man's under clothing? What her mother say of her time with the lower class men?

[isadora]

She half expected him to gag her, but she found it only more irritating when he only grinned in response. Isadora wondered what he was enjoying more, watching her do the laundry like some commoner, or just pissing her off. And yet she was still sitting on the ground, scrubbing worn fabric with harsh soap, ignoring how it stung her hands and the scent burnt her nostrils, while he sat there, just watching her, as he always did. She looked up at him, and she could see the laughter dancing, unspoken, in his eyes, and her eyes narrowed.

"And stop grinning!" She sighed, yes, he had finally managed to get a rise out of her. It was aggravating enough trying to do all these chores, but then he had to be so...so...frustrating! Even Isadora, who could usually face a crisis with poise and dignity under all sorts of trying situations, was beginning to have her calm damaged. But the amused look didn't leave his eyes, and a wicked gleam came to hers as she got an idea. Without fully thinking it through, she balled up the dripping garment she had just finished scrubbing and tossed it at him.

Now it was her turn to laugh, but she didn't do so silently. She might get herself tied up for this, but was it worse to be bored or worked to death? She was used to boredom, and it rarely caused death. Well, he seemed to find her outbursts so amusing, so really, she was just trying to keep him entertained, right? She smiled with mirth, wondering what punishment he'd drudge up from the sick recesses of his mind for her now.

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[Alistair]

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And stop grinning! Which of course, only made him chuckle. He was rather enjoying her outburst, and knowing he was getting to her in a way. She looked to adult, and womanly to be called a child but when she yelled at time he thought it was rather princess-like. Almost child like, temper fits. He was willing to bet that if she ever had him in her dungeons, she'd do more then order his head cut off. Hell, she might even do it her self.

Alistair could see the future, but he did not see this one coming. -SMACK-

One moment, he was laughing at her, then next a wet something smacked him in his face and soaked him everywhere it touched. The soap on it was enough to burn his eyes slightly. Pulling it off rather quickly he looked at her in shock. He had not thought she'd risk days bound and gagged, for one moment's stupefaction. There she sat, seeming to think she was the funny one now. He silently stared at her for a moment, before the surprise turned into something else . . and the grin returned. "You want to play, Princess?" He asked using her title as her name, rather in an insult; before moving into action.

With any good battle plan, the object was surprise and speed (and if you could do it, numbers but he only had two out of three). When going up ageist a woman this unpredictable you needed a hell of a good battle plan. He dove for her bring them both to the ground, and covered her torso with whatever it was she had hit him with. He was briskly rubbing her down with it, so it soaked her in return. It took him a moment to realize, he was still laughing at her.

[isadora]

Her laughter quieted as he spoke, although her smile lingered, she might as well let herself enjoy the moment before he had a chance to get back at her. Maybe her brief moment of glory hadn't been worth the trouble she'd get now, but hell, she could regret it later. Her eyes turned wary, unsure how he would respond, but whatever she might have expected, she certainly hadn't thought he would tackle her.

Shrieking with surprise and laughter left over from her victory a moment ago, the wind was knocked out of her as the two of them hit the ground. Isadora squeezed her eyes shut, inhaling deeply as she felt cold water seeping through her dress, laughing despite herself and shoving at his hands. "Get...off...of me!" She breathed through laughs as she tried to fight her off, she wasn't laughing at the situation anymore, but whether he was doing it intentionally or not, his hands all over her was ticklish!

"This isn't funny!" She half-shrieked, still laughing as she tried to grab at his hands and pull them away from her, wiggling desperately to get free. Okay, so she really hadn't thought this would be his plan for revenge; if she'd known, she may have reconsidered her own evil plan. "Alistair!" She gasped, finally grabbing the not-so-wet piece of clothing and tossing it away, maybe that would make him stop.

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[Alistair]

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His uncle had been a hard, unfeeling brute of a man. The type who would not have approved over this. Grown men to not tickle others; he would have said disgusted with Alistair's actions. He had been ten years old when his uncle had taken him out the backdoor while the knights dragged his mother out the front door. The only thing keeping him from being the cold uncaring man his uncle was, and had tired to make him into was the memories of his parents, and moments like these. Were things, just seemed to not matter.

He didn't stop until she cried out his name. Ever since he had seen her, there in the castle she had not been as he expected. She had fought with him, tested his temper, tried to out smart him, and now in the most unexpected turn of events she was laughing with him.

Had she'd not been his hostage, he'd had tried to kiss her again. He thought about it for a moment, as she wiggled under him and he tormented her. He wondered what she would do, if he really kissed her. Last time he made meant to punish her, teach her a lesson. However, he didn't feel like angering her just yet. . . . . and nor did he want to doge another right hook.

He sat back on his knees as he looked down at her with a easy smile. "Really now, Princess--" He said her title this time, not as her name but in the same tone one might use an casual endearment; and while he spoke to her he reached over to where he had been sitting and picked up the grass he had been braiding, which was now in a ring like a bracelet. "--had I know you held violent tenancies I would have make sure to keep the shield." He held the bracelet out; it might be a bit small for her as he had meant to give it to Mae as a bribe for helping him but he could make another. His uncle would be very displeased with him in this moment.

[isadora]

When he finally relented, she wasted no time backing out of his reach, a small smile lingering on her face despite herself. Her heavy breathing calmed steadily as she sat back, watching him warily in case he was going to try something again...as if things weren't bad enough, now they were both soaked. "Should have done more research." She laughed wryly, she knew that his criteria for kidnapping her had merely been her friendship with Arthur; although if he'd studied her, would he have thought her violent?

She didn't usually fight with anyone so much as she did with him, but then, people usually didn't hold her against her will. "Then you could've picked a nice, sweet, docile princess, one who would never have dreamed of fighting back." She smiled at that thought. "If such a creature even exists." Isadora couldn't even imagine a woman who wouldn't try to fight against someone trying to hold them captive, regardless of how futile it might be. She figured the difference between herself and other women might be her unwillingness to surrender...maybe that was just the noble in her.

She eyed the grass bracelet warily, why was he giving her a present? Even one so meager seemed somewhat out of place. Watching his eyes for any sign of trickery, she reached out to take the peace offering, not realizing that the hand she reached out with was the hand he'd bound last night; the red welts had darkened into angry purple bruises circling her wrist, standing out starkly against the pale ivory of her flesh, doubtless matching the many other hidden aches she could feel; she was a princess, after all, she bruised easy. "Is this your way of apologizing?"

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[Alistair]

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He was not going to apologize for being a man of his word. He had told her what would happen if she ran, she ran and he had keep his word. NOR was he going to tell her he was not apologizing. He was no an idiot were women were concerned, he knew women did not like it when you pointed such things out to them.

So instead he reached out gently and touched her purple wrist. His eyes looked into her, and hoped he looked honest. "Isadora," He used her name for the first time, "Would you let me show you something? Something magical? If I swear to you, on my mother's grave, that there is no evil involved?"

He sat there watching her, wondering how she would answer. His plan had been to ask Mae to find a way to show her the childish, fun side of magic. Mae was not strong or powerful but she could enchant a few spells to make shadows move on their own. Her father however, could do slightly more. If she trusted him here, then maybe he could help change her mind about magic? Make Gwent a safer place for Druids.

She had been right, about some magic being evil but most Druids were not evil. One out of ten might be. Most where families, and people like these. People who only turned to hurting people when they had to in order to protect their families. A last resort.

[isadora]

She flinched back involuntarily when he touched her wrist, jerking her hand out of his reach. It hurt, especially when anyone touched it, even her. She'd been doing her best to ignore it. She was surprised when he actually deigned to use her name, it sounded strange coming from him; she wasn't used to being addressed by name. Usually, people called her 'Milady', or 'Princess', as he had done. Her own name sounded foreign to her ears.

She frowned when he asked if he could show her magic, looking him in the eye, she wanted to believe him, and then she wanted to kick herself for thinking that. She wanted to trust a man who had kidnapped her? She was laughing with a man who was holding her against her will? What was wrong with her? This wasn't some vacation, nor some educational trip into the woods to learn how the common folk lived; she was a prisoner here, as much as if she were chained in a dungeon. "And why should your word mean anything to me?"

She tried to make her voice indifferent, haughty, cold as she was usually so good at doing in the presence of kings and commoners alike; somewhere she failed, she could hear the faltering tones in her voice, she knew she sounded too much like she was pleading, not demanding like she wanted. Some Princess she was, she couldn't even sound haughty on command. It was probably because she didn't believe he would swear on his mother's grave so lightly, not after what he'd told her about how she'd died. But no matter what he said, magic was evil, and if she allowed him to use it, wouldn't that make her as bad as him? Wouldn't that damn her just as much?

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[Alistair]

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The moment was gone. He had lost her the moment he touched her wrist, and he could see it in her eyes. Her words however made him wonder if she was willing. He knew this would either me a moment of faith, or they were going right back where they had been. At odds, with each other. Why should she trust him?

"Aside from the necessary lie to get you out of the castle, I have not lied to you." Miss lead her, ignored her, and injured her; but not openly lie to her. "You say magic is only evil. You say, because they say. You believe, cause they believe." He was referring to them (they), whoever had told her magic was evil. "Give your self a chance to decided for your self. Stop being the Princess for one moment, and be Isadora. You want to lead your people to best way you can. Will you do it the way they have done for years only because they have done it that way for years or will you explore and learn? Druids are your people as well, Princess, what if they need your protection too?"

He watched her for a moment, "Have you ever wondered, what if you execute an innocent? What if the reason they did not turn their back on magic was the same reason you could not turn you back on your kingdom? It's who they are, who they were born to be, and it's in their blood."

"Besides, worse case I prove you right and you can hate me some more, right?" He knew why she would be doubtful. Love spells. "I will NOT make you fall in love with. . . . at lest not my magic. If you do that it's just because I am dashingly charming." He teased her, trying to get her to believe and trust for a moment. He could force her to watch, but he wanted her to be willing. He didn't like trying to talk someone into something, as he wasn't a talker, but he wanted her to want this; not to be forced to see it.

[isadora]

It was the most he'd spoken in the brief time she'd known him, and she had a feeling it was the most he'd spoken in...well, quite a while, at least. Why was he so eager to convince her? Was this part of his plan? If he convinced her that magic wasn't evil, it could change how magic practitioners were treated in her entire kingdom. But what if this was a trick? What if he used some mind-altering spell to make her believe him? But...if he could do such a thing, why would he ask her permission? Wouldn't he just cast his spell, then make her do whatever it was he wanted?

Even if he couldn't just make her do as she wished, how could she trust him? 'They', as he so eloquently called everyone who'd had a hand in raising or educating her, had always told her that evil was attractive, it was tempting, it was a lie. Magic was unbelievably powerful, they'd always told her, but that power came at a cost. She bit her lip, uncharacteristically indecisive. If he was telling the truth, then everything she'd ever believed was wrong, and she'd allowed innocent people to be hunted down and killed for no good reason.

She owed it to herself to at least listen to him, right? See what he had to say? Or rather, what he had to show her. It was how she would settle a dispute in her court; hear both sides, then come to a rational decision. She'd heard one side her whole life, it was part of her own core beliefs, she owed it to her people to hear the other side, to give it a fair hearing. Like she'd said, life was unfair, she had to try and make it even just a little bit fairer on behalf of the people of Gwent. "...All right. Make your case." She said, still somewhat uncertain, but she was at least willing to listen.

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[Alistair]

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He gave her a grin and then stooped her up in his arms and sat her gently on her feet. Taking her by her hand, he lead her over to were some of the men were talking. He knew this would be hard for her, but he hoped that by doing this, it would give help at lest open her eyes. He might not change her mind, but maybe he can make her not see the world as black and white; good or evil. Everything was in the middle.

He stopped near a middle aged man, about ten years older then himself. Again, her title was her name, but said softer, "Princess, this is Rilan, Mae's father." He introduced her to the man. Rilan just gave her an awkward nod of his head and then looked at Alistair as if he was out of his mind. Alistair lifted the princess' purple and bruised wrist up, being very gentle with it. "She fights me like a lioness, this one." He told the man in a slight joke. "It seems I have injured her. Can you fix this?" He hoped if Rilan healed her, she would see the good side of magic. 'I am not working any spells before someone who would have me killed for it' Rilan answered bitterly. 'You bring her here. Let her see my family, and then ask that I give her a reason to come hunting for me and mine?'

This had not been part of the plan. He should have known that is would not be this easy. "Rilan, I am not asking." he said, his voice deep and strong, "You know you owe me. My dreams kept your boys safe. This is what I demand in return. I do not have the knowledge nor skill." He wasn't going to explain how he had helped Rilan and his boys, Alistair did not brag but it seemed to do the trick. Rilan sent her a glare before giving Alistair a nod.

Rilan walked away for a few moments to gather supplies. Alistair turned to looked down at her, "Trust me." Was all he said in hopes it would give her the strength to not change her mind.

[isadora]

Isadora was still reluctant as Alistair picked her up and placed her on her feet, still conflicted about the idea of even considering that magic wasn't a violation of every value she held dear. But there was no further argument as he led her over to another group of men, despite her uneasiness at meeting more of these people. It wasn't rational, that she was more comfortable with her lone captor than a group of people who didn't mean her harm, but she didn't know anything about them. At least she knew Alistair needed her alive to claim his ransom.

She inclined her head at Rilan's nod and Alistair's brief introduction, remaining silent. She still wasn't sure why they were speaking to the others, but she didn't question it. When Alistair gingerly lifted her wrist, she looked at him in startled alarm when he suggested the man should use magic to heal her. She'd agreed to being shown some magic, not having it used on her! She said nothing, however, as the man protested, hoping that would be the end of it. She didn't know what they could do to her if she agreed to let them work magic on her.

But Alistair argued, his tone becoming harsh, and despite her distress at having magic worked over her, she noticed what he said. His dreams; the prophecy dreams he'd told her of? So they could be prevented. She didn't know if that was important, but she filed it away anyways. And he couldn't work the spell himself; did he simply not know healing magic, or was he unable to use any magic, aside from his dreams? He hadn't used any other magic since she'd known him, which would have made it easier to keep her contained, she was sure. So maybe he really couldn't do magic.

She looked away when the other man glared at her, as though this were her fault. He probably did blame her, had probably decided she deserved whatever Alistair put her through, regardless of the fact that she was going out on a limb for these people, that she was even trying to listen. Why should she even bother? At Alistair's words, she raised her eyebrows at him. "I don't." She answered curtly.

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[Alistair]

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"I don't." She told him, and Alistair fought back a grin, "Good girl." He said, mostly to annoy her. He knew she had no reason to trust her kidnapper, but it annoyed him she did not. He had never really played the villain before. Before he had come here he had been to much of a loner to try at being a hero, but when the event did rise he always did what he thought was best. He had never gone out of his way to hurt others, until he decided it was time to help his people. Now it seemed, he would have to grow used to being hated, feared, and mis-trusted.

He kept his eyes on her for a moment before looked away. When Rilan came back to them, he held some herbs in his large but bony hands. Alistair knew she would be wary or even frightened so he moved to stand closer to her then he should and watched Rilan work. He doubted his presence would comfort her; why should it? He however also wanted to keep her from backing out. 'We are on equal terms after this.' Rilan told Alistair, and Alistair did not reply to him. He had seen the death of Rilan's sons, and had helped prevent it, and Rilan would do this. There was no reason to reply.

Rilan lifted her wrist and rubbed them over the busing while saying an some words that most did not understand. Alistair only knew some of them from his time with the druids. His uncle had been his father's brother--Not a druid, not a magician. After the words where spoken, time seemed to stand still for a long moment and Rilan pulled away. 'We are equal now. I want no more to do with this. She is one of them!' Rilan walked away but did not go far, just returned to his place around the fire with the other men.

Alistair wanted to look down at her wrist, but his eyes could not leave her face. He already knew the power of magic but he wanted to know her reaction. To know how this would effect her. Would she began to doubt that magic was evil? If he gained even that much ground with her, he knew the druids in Gwent would have a strong chance of being safe. If their queen knew magic was not truly evil; then they would be safe. When she became queen, there would be hope for them. He would have help something change.

[isadora]

She ignored Alistair's praise with little difficulty, only fighting with her baser instincts for a moment before swallowing her retort. That was what he wanted, after all, to bait her into some kind of response. Why he derived some perverse pleasure from irritating her, she didn't know, but she was all too happy to deny him the satisfaction. She was already somewhat impatient as the druid collected his supplies, and she found herself straining her abilities to remain calm, eyes darting about somewhat rapidly as she fought herself not to back away, or even run off.

Even as the thought occurred to her, she felt more than saw Alistair move closer, as though he could somehow tell that she was considering escape and wanted to remind her what a bad idea that was. As if she needed the reminder. She took a deep breath, not wanting him to see how close to panic she really was; the more he thought of her as the ice-cold, emotionless princess, the better. She managed not to flinch when the druid took her hand, even if his loathing for her was much more apparent than on Alistair, he was much gentler with her damaged wrist; he probably just didn't want to make worse that which he would have to fix.

Apprehensively, she watched as he chanted over her hand, remaining stock still as the pain, which had dulled to a constant throb, began to disappear altogether. She had to admit, even if only to herself...it was somewhat miraculous. But was that not exactly what the devil wanted people to think of his work? She still wasn't entirely convinced that it wasn't some kind of ploy, but at least she wasn't in pain anymore. Not from her wrist, at least. She was surprised by how the druid's words stung as he returned to the fire, not even giving her time to thank him, the venom apparent in his words. She hadn't thought words from such a man would even touch her, and yet...the sheer vehemence he held for her was enough to cut.

Her eyes were drawn to the healed flesh of her arm, no trace of redness or even a bruise remaining, just her own smooth, flawless skin, without any residual pain when she gingerly touched it. The painlessness was almost startling. When she looked up, her eyes widened as she found Alistair staring at her intently, her eyes locking with his. He looked so determined, expectant, and...a little bit hopeful? As though he expected her to immediately declare that the world was wrong, magic was good, and become a campaigner of his cause. It was too much, and she found herself looking away abruptly, knowing she couldn't meet the expectations in those eyes. She was confused, yes, the beliefs she'd held her entire life clashing with the reality she now faced. How could she respond to that?

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[Alistair]

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Damn. Alistair was rather disappointed with her reaction; or more to the point rather disappointed with his inability to read her reaction. She just stopped looking at him. What did that mean? Annoyed that he cared, and annoyed that he was left in the dark he took a step back. "At lest now you will be able to work better." He grumbled to her. She had not even raised to the bait of the good girl. Her ice had melted moments ago, when they had shared a laugh. Now it seemed to be back up, and they were no longer Isadora and Alistair but Princess and Druid once again. Yes, damn indeed.

He should have waited, gone with his plan to get Mae to charm her. Maybe it was Rilan's hate of nobles that made her unwilling to show thanks, or emotion here. Alistair had only known him for a few days but everyone knew Rilan did not like nobles. The druids were very peaceful people for the most part. It was the bitter few, or the angry that stuck out and built the reputations of the many. Rilan might be bitter, but he would not seek to hurt others. Maybe Rilan had not been his best option.

Frustrated with himself, Alistair turned from her, leaving her standing there as he walked further then had left her alone before, to his tent. He sat down right out side of it, deciding that he was not too far from where she would be working to catch her if she ran. He just needed time away from the mystery that was all to quickly starting to get under his skin. He would sit here and keep an eye on her, while getting far enough away that conversation was no needed. Give her time to think. Give him time to stop thinking.

[isadora]

She didn't miss the disappointed tone in his voice as Alistair spoke, but she didn't know how to reply. Did he expect one single encounter to suddenly turn her entire perspective on life around in five minutes? It was true that she was reconsidering some things she had previously taken for granted, but some deep-seated beliefs would take more than five minutes to be overturned. She needed to think, and she couldn't do that with him hovering half a foot away from her all the time, and she figured giving her space was a little too much to wish for. She was surprised when she was wrong.

He went back over to their tent, and after getting over her initial shock, she returned to where she had been washing clothes earlier. She wasn't foolish enough to think she could get away right now, when he would doubtless be watching her like a hawk even from far away. Besides, she hadn't worked out a new escape plan yet. She had to behave herself until she came up with something feasible, lower his guard so she'd have a chance. Kneeling down next to the bucket of soapy water, she picked up the garment she'd thrown at Alistair earlier, and with a sigh, started scrubbing.

Having expected to spend at least a little time on her own, she was surprised when the crunch of footsteps announced someone approaching, and looking up, she saw none other than the girl, Mae, glancing warily at her father before she sat down next to the princess. Apparently, Alistair's absence bolstered her courage to approach the mysterious young woman who had so suddenly joined their camp. "Hello there," Isadora smiled at her, seeing no reason not to talk to her.

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((So I figured Mae could help Alistair out...without even needing to be asked? xD I can change it if you don't like.))

[Alistair]

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The women were plotting together. Alistair watched Mae walk over to the princess and he rolled his eyes. Why was it women thought they knew better then you? They did what they wanted even after you told them no? Alistair could not hear them, but nor was he going over there right now. He was at a road block in his evil plans and he was annoyed with himself.

I am not allowed to talk to you, Mae told her. Her father had his back to them right now, so Mae was mostly safe from being caught. Her father would be ignoring them, even if Mae did not understand why. Why are you doing my chores? Not that Mae was not grateful but it did make one wonder . . .

Alistair watched them, knowing he should jump up and break them up. If Rilan caught them speaking there would be hell to pay. Still, he was rather displeased with him self and did not trust himself not to go over there and ruin things more. he would wait til just before noon, and then go make her carry more water. That would turn things around.

{{No that is perfect. His exceptions are just higher then realism. He is not used to being the villain and now he is pouting about it.}}

[isadora]

Isadora smiled when the first words the girl said were to explain herself, even if she was going against her own words just by saying them "Is that so? Then why are you?" Isadora asked lightly, she wouldn't send the girl away, but she didn't doubt there would be consequences if she was found over here, instead of with the other children. Then again, maybe her father wouldn't even notice; he seemed to be avoiding looking anywhere near the princess, perhaps he thought that if he ignored her, she'd just go away? She'd love that to be true.

Isadora shrugged at her question. "Apparently Alistair thinks I need to build up some callouses." She answered, laughing bitterly, still working on scrubbing clothes while she spoke with the girl. She glanced over her shoulder at the druid, he didn't look happy that Mae was talking to her, but he didn't look as though he was about to break the pair of them apart, either. Good. Isadora needed some company that wasn't of the silent, surly variety.

"I notice you didn't come over here until he went away. Are you afraid of him?" She made her tone as innocent and light as she could manage, looking up at the girl. She looked to be about fourteen or so, at that awkward stage where everything started to change, on the verge of womanhood, yet still too young to even understand what any of that meant. Isadora didn't envy her that. She hoped that Mae might be willing to tell her something about her captor, even though she'd spent the last day and a half with him, she still didn't know much about him. Of course he scared her, she was a victim of kidnapping. She wondered if he frightened children, too.

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