Offline
Jun 18, 2013 19:29:56 GMT -5
Tag me @isadora
|
|
Post by isadora on Aug 25, 2010 22:15:38 GMT -5
She looked over at him when he spoke to her, this was exactly why she needed to leave. He wanted to talk, to be friendly, after putting her through all of this? It was dysfunctional! But thinking about what she would be doing if she weren't here would be a nice distraction from all of this. She thought about it for a moment before answering. "My father and I were supposed to have dinner with King Uther and Prince Arthur tonight...I suppose I'd be getting ready right about now." Most of the other kings would have left earlier, so they were going to have a celebratory dinner. She had been looking forward to it; Arthur was one of her oldest friends, and her father was old friends with King Uther as well.
Thinking about this made her miss her father; she often spent time away from him, weeks at a time while she traveled to distant kingdoms, but usually she didn't have to worry about him quite so much. Stress was bad for his condition, and she knew he wouldn't take her disappearance lying down; he could aggravate his condition, even die while she was here. She bit her lip and looked away from him as tears welled up in her eyes, this wasn't something she should dwell on. "The meat's done." She told him, trying to keep her voice level as she spoke.
Looking down, she raised a hand to wipe the tears away, hoping he wouldn't see her tears. She didn't want him to know that she was crying, she didn't want to try and explain why. Would he understand? Maybe. He'd lost his parents, he could probably understand what she was going through, but did she want to tell him? He could find a way to use it against her, she couldn't trust him. [/size]
|
|
Offline
Jun 18, 2013 19:29:56 GMT -5
Tag me @isadora
|
|
Post by isadora on Aug 25, 2010 21:08:54 GMT -5
At his sharp glance, she knew she should've fought him more; made him believe it when she finally agreed, but she didn't have the energy. It wasn't just the hard work that had her exhausted; being around him was emotionally draining. One moment he made her want to kiss him, the next he refused to look at her, he made her heart race and then broke it in the next moment. She couldn't stay here, not when he was so convinced that they could never be together and so smitten that he couldn't keep his hands off her. She was strong, but the constant rejections were tearing her apart.
She knew she had to leave, and two days wasn't soon enough. She didn't understand why she was so drawn to him; he had kidnapped her! He was a bad guy! But he wasn't a bad guy, and something about him drew her to him, made her let him in when she was usually so careful. And then he used it against her, and would continue to use whatever she let him know to hurt the people she cared about. Even if she weren't a princess and he weren't a druid, how could she ever be with someone who would openly hurt her like that, betray her trust without batting a eye? It was for his people, and she could understand that, but she couldn't accept it.
She turned back to the meat, neither of them speaking anymore on her eagerness to get away from him. She used the knife to make sure it was finished; cooking meat might not be her experience, but she could tell when it was done. She decided to give it a few more minutes over the fire before she was satisfied that it was finished cooking. [/size]
|
|
Offline
Jun 18, 2013 19:29:56 GMT -5
Tag me @isadora
|
|
Post by isadora on Aug 25, 2010 20:20:13 GMT -5
Since Isadora was very determined not to look at Alistair, she didn't notice the look on his face as he stared at her. She did wonder what his dream had been about, but she didn't want to ask him. If it was important, he'd say something, she was sure. But she'd think that someone dying was important enough to mention right away, but he hadn't said anything to anyone. She wondered if he only dreamed about people he knew, or if he ever saw the deaths of strangers, and then she wondered if he tried to help those people, too, or if he only tried to help those he knew.
She looked back at him when he spoke; he sounded so serious, and with where her mind had been a moment ago, she could only assume this was because of his dream. If he was worried about her...could that mean his dreams were about her? But wouldn't he just tell her as much? It would be easier to keep her safe if he simply told her what she had to expect so that she could avoid it, he'd realize that. But then he mentioned others, and she assumed his dream was about someone else, or maybe an attack on the camp. He wanted to be able to protect everyone, not just her; well, she couldn't die if she wasn't here when it happened.
"All right," she agreed easily, and wondered if it was too easily. She looked back at the meat, would he realize she was lying? She didn't want him to suspect she was planning on running off. She figured that if she went along with what he wanted, he would think she was getting used to being here, or that she was breaking down under all of his forced labor. Let him think what he wanted. She couldn't stay here. [/size]
|
|
Offline
Jun 18, 2013 19:29:56 GMT -5
Tag me @isadora
|
|
Post by isadora on Aug 25, 2010 19:37:47 GMT -5
She looked at him curiously, wondering if there was something wrong with him as he recovered from...what? She had no idea. What could he possibly have been doing while she was working? As far as she knew, nothing, but she supposed whatever it was, it must have been intense. Then it occurred to her that he must've had one of his 'dreams'...falling asleep while he was supposed to be guarding her? That wasn't very good. But he was getting up now, and coming over to examine her work. He didn't look impressed, but he didn't say anything either.
Following his instructions, she picked up the knife and followed. Much as she might want to run away, she couldn't get away right now; and she already had a plan. She didn't want to screw things up and put his guard up right before she had her chance. Right now, he appeared to be more worried about what he would do to her if they were alone than what would happen if he left her alone, which was pretty much what she wanted him to feel. It would be easier to get away if he didn't think she was going to run off.
She knelt down next to the fire, taking the cloth and holding the knife with the other hand, nodding at his instructions. Cooking wasn't as hard as she'd thought it would be...it just meant a lot of waiting and sitting around with nothing to do. She stared at the fire as she turned the meat, not wanting to make eye contact with anyone in the camp. The other druids hated her; Alistair didn't hate her but she got the feeling he hated the way he reacted to her; she hated being here. Mae was off playing somewhere, so she didn't even have the little girl to distract her. [/size]
|
|
Offline
Jun 18, 2013 19:29:56 GMT -5
Tag me @isadora
|
|
Post by isadora on Aug 25, 2010 18:23:33 GMT -5
Isadora wasn't paying attention to Alistair, as a matter of fact, she was trying very hard to forget about his existence entirely. Forget about how his hands made her skin tingle, or how when he spoke in her ear it caused shivers down her spine, or the way looking at his bare chest made her stomach tighten. She didn't want to think about any of that, she wanted it to go away as though it had never happened, and even with her hands busy carving up the meat, she couldn't get her mind to stay on the task at hand. She was used to thinking all day, she couldn't just shut her mind off to do menial tasks, and right now, her mind wanted to think about Alistair.
It took an effort not to look over her shoulder every thirty seconds to see if he was looking at her, even though she was still scared of making eye contact. She wondered what he was thinking about, and then she scolded herself for wondering, and her prim and proper side managed to shame her wild, emotional side into submission, and she avoided looking back at him until she'd finished mangling the meat. Oh yeah, she'd butchered it...and not in a good way. It...looked...edible? That was a good thing, right? No. Someone was probably going to catch hell for this, and she was pointing her finger at Alistair.
Turning around, she finally let herself look at Alistair, but only for a second before they flickered away to take in the rest of the camp. She was finished, but she didn't say anything, instead just setting the knife down next to the meat, messily shoved onto the metal rods for cooking. She didn't know what she was supposed to do now, so she waited for him instead. [/size]
|
|
Offline
Jun 18, 2013 19:29:56 GMT -5
Tag me @isadora
|
|
Post by isadora on Aug 25, 2010 17:38:26 GMT -5
It was hard to miss how he avoided looking at her; just as well, she didn't want to feel his eyes on her. She followed him over to the meat, wondering what the point of changing had been if they were still going to be carving up slabs of meat. She didn't say anything, if they were going to be cutting up meat, there wasn't a lot she could do about it. She watched as he took the meat down and followed him to the table where she'd apparently be cutting it up...she still didn't think she'd be able to do a good job of cutting it up, but she wasn't going to ask for his help this time. She didn't want his hands on her again.
She found it funny that he couldn't think of anymore threats. So he really was bluffing...someone who was willing to hurt her would have hundreds of things to threaten her with if she misbehaved. She wasn't going to run now, she didn't think that she'd be able to get away right now anyways. She didn't believe that Alistair would hurt her, but she planned to get away later, she didn't need to get herself tied up already.
His instructions were simple enough, and after glancing over her shoulder to see that he was watching her from a good distance away, she rolled her sleeves up and picked up the knife. She bit her lip as she puzzled over where to cut, and then figured she'd just go for it...if she screwed up, they'd probably blame Alistair anyways. She followed his instructions, cutting up the meat and then putting it on the rods, hoping she was doing it right and then telling herself she really didn't care either way. [/size]
|
|
Offline
Jun 18, 2013 19:29:56 GMT -5
Tag me @isadora
|
|
Post by isadora on Aug 25, 2010 16:56:00 GMT -5
It was better to walk away, to just ignore whatever she was feeling and just continue on, right? That was the theory as she got up to leave the tent, but she didn't expect Alistair to stop her. She had barely made it a few steps before he pulled her into his arms, too startled to push him away. By the time she recovered her senses enough to react, it was too late, and she turned just in time to see him leave the tent ahead of her, staring after him with confusion and more than a little hurt on her face. Why was he doing this to her?
She didn't move to follow him, instead staying stock still as she tried to get her emotions under control. She was torn between going after him and yelling at him, going after him and kissing him, and staying here to just cry. She knew they couldn't be together, and he knew it too, so why did he insist on making things worse? And because he couldn't control his hormones, now he was going to punish her by treating her even worse than before, if the last time they'd kissed was any indication. She could handle the chores and the bandits and the kidnapping, but she couldn't deal with these bloody feelings anymore, they were likely to drive her insane.
She heard him yell at her, and as expected, his tone was even colder than before, as though he wanted to make it clear that they were not going to kiss again. No, they weren't. Isadora took a deep breath, forcing her emotions off her face in order to look perfectly calm before she left the tent; he didn't need to know how much of an effect he continued to have on her. She straightened her dress quickly, then pushed the tent flap aside and headed outside, apparently to cook the meat. These people really trusted her with their food? That was slightly disturbing. [/size]
|
|
Offline
Jun 18, 2013 19:29:56 GMT -5
Tag me @isadora
|
|
Post by isadora on Aug 25, 2010 16:05:01 GMT -5
She inhaled sharply as she felt his finger tracing its way down her neck to where her dress began, sending a shiver through her. She stiffened automatically at his touch, his breath warming her neck. She knew he didn't need to be this close, but she couldn't bring herself to push him away, telling herself that it was because she needed him to finish lacing her in before she could tell him off. She was grateful when she felt the laces pulling tight around her, at least he was doing what he was supposed to.
Every time she felt his rough hands brush against her back, she couldn't help but wonder if he was doing it on purpose or if he was just that clumsy with the delicate laces of a woman's dress. She smiled at that thought; oh, sure, he was a skilled hand at skinning a deer, but give him silk ties on a woman's bodice and he didn't know what to do. Thinking like that helped put her a little more as ease as he pulled the last of the laces tight, but nothing could've prepared her for when he nipped the sensitive skin of her neck before he tied the laces together.
She looked over her shoulder at him curiously, wondering what exactly he was playing at. Hadn't he been the one who had told her that there couldn't be anything between them? Her hair fell over her shoulder as she turned, flowing down her back again, and she looked up at him over her shoulder, her heart beating so hard she felt sure he must be able to hear it. Isadora looked into his eyes, and this moment felt too much like it had earlier, that same tension she'd felt before he'd kissed her, when she'd been undeniably drawn to him, but she still remembered the bitter pain of rejection. She turned her body towards him, and leaned forward to press a brief, chaste kiss to his cheek. "Thank you," she whispered, before getting up to leave. [/size]
|
|
Offline
Jun 18, 2013 19:29:56 GMT -5
Tag me @isadora
|
|
Post by isadora on Aug 25, 2010 15:02:40 GMT -5
She had hoped he'd just lace up the dress and they could move on with their awkward and extremely tumultuous relationship, but of course Alistair had other ideas. Her eyes widened when she felt his arms around her, what was he doing?! She had a certain amount of trust that Alistair wouldn't hurt her by this point, but it was times like these that she worried that her trust was misplaced. He was a man, after all, and he had been the one who told her that men always wanted what they couldn't have.
But he let go of her, moving past her to sit at the back of the tent. She looked up at him, clutching her dress to her chest to try and keep herself covered. She was still uncertain about the way he gestured her towards him, noticing that he was sitting on his bed now, but what choice did she have? She couldn't exactly back out now. So she made her way to the back of the tent, somewhat awkwardly since she was trying to hold her dress on at the same time.
"Try not to enjoy yourself too much." She muttered at him, it was obvious he was having far too much fun with this. She sat down on the bedroll next to him, giving him a wary glance before she turned her back towards him again, unable to resist looking at him over her shoulder. She swallowed the lump in her throat nervously, only now realizing that she was only half-dressed, on his bed, with him. It didn't help her nerves that he wasn't entirely dressed, either. Oh, she had a feeling she was going to regret this. [/size]
|
|
Offline
Jun 18, 2013 19:29:56 GMT -5
Tag me @isadora
|
|
Post by isadora on Aug 25, 2010 13:55:54 GMT -5
It was all the more mortifying because of how amused he was by the situation. She hated the way he was grinning, wished there was some way to wipe that stupid smirk off his face, but at the moment, she didn't have anything to use against him. At his instruction she nodded with as much dignity as she could muster, then knelt down next to the bucket and began to rinse the blood off her hands and arms. Once her skin was perfectly spotless again, she picked up her dress from the ground, shaking the dust and dirt from it before she went into the tent.
Even if she didn't need his help, Isadora didn't think she'd like the idea of getting changed in his tent. She swallowed her pride, glancing back at the opening once again to make sure it was closed, before she started undressing. It was kind of awkward in the enclosed space, but she managed to slip her blue overgown on, straightening it out and making sure that she was completely covered...well, except for her back, where the laces still hung loose, exposed to the waist in a plunging V. She did her best to tighten the laces on her own, but despite her efforts, the dress still hung open.
Delaying the inevitable, she folded up Alistair's shirt and her underdress separately, into neat piles, nervous beyond belief about inviting him in to help her. She kept trying to tell herself it wasn't so bad, that having a man see her bare back wasn't so bad. And then there was the infuriating part of her that wanted to invite him in and only made her delay more. Finally, when there was nothing else she could think of to delay her, she knelt down with her back to the opening, not wishing to let him see anymore than necessary, pulled her long hair over her shoulder to keep it out of the way, and called over her shoulder warily. "Alistair?" [/size]
|
|
Offline
Jun 18, 2013 19:29:56 GMT -5
Tag me @isadora
|
|
Post by isadora on Aug 25, 2010 13:08:54 GMT -5
He didn't reply for a long time, and she wondered what he was thinking, then decided she probably didn't want to know. It was embarrassing enough that she'd had to admit that she couldn't even dress herself --she was beginning to see why people might think a princess was useless-- but now she had to wait for him to come to whatever conclusion he would at her situation. Continue wearing the bloodied dress she was already wearing, or find someone to help her change. Maybe Mae would be willing to help, if her father would let her? Unless they had something else for her to wear, but she doubted it. There didn't seem to be any women besides little Mae, whose clothes would be too small for the princess.
And of course, being a man, Alistair's thoughts went exactly where she was afraid they would go. She blushed, her face getting hot and her jaw dropping as she tried to find words to respond. She might have expected this reaction but she didn't know how to deal with it; no other man would dare be so...so...brazen! But the fact was she did need help. Maybe it would be better to just wear the blood-stained dress, accept the risk of being eaten by a bear and avoid the whole situation. Somehow, she doubted that was an acceptable out anymore.
"Just to do up the laces." She finally responded, it wasn't like he actually needed to see her change, she could put on the dress and he could tighten it afterward, right? That was what her maid usually did. Isadora hated that she had to get from him for anything, but this in particular was just humiliating. [/size]
|
|
Offline
Jun 18, 2013 19:29:56 GMT -5
Tag me @isadora
|
|
Post by isadora on Aug 25, 2010 12:34:20 GMT -5
She got the distinct impression that Alistair cared more about her father's name than he was willing to let on, but since he only shrugged, she let it go. It wasn't that big a deal, was it? No, probably not, so there was no point dwelling on it. When he took her hand and started pulling her back to camp, she followed along, still unsure what she should tell him about her clothing. Of course he would assume she could just put her dress back on, other women had no problem getting dressed in the morning, right? But the reason noble dresses were so form-fitting and flattering was that they were laced tightly; and if they weren't, they had a habit of falling off. Not something she wanted to risk.
She bit her lip awkwardly. She was beginning to think that the reason these dresses were so ridiculous was so that noble ladies would need servants; after all, she'd never heard of a noble lady designing her own dress. It certainly made maids indispensable, if you couldn't get dressed by yourself. She knew her silence was dragging out too much now. "I...can't." She finally settled on awkwardly, but she knew he'd demand an explanation; he'd probably assume it was some squeamish princess thing otherwise.
"The laces are in the back. I can just reach to untie them, but I can't do them up by myself." She admitted, avoiding meeting his gaze. Had she known she'd be kidnapped and dragged off into the woods today, she would have worn a more practical dress. But she'd been dressed for the celebrations, not romping around in the backwoods --not that she did that often, either, but she was sure she had a dress for it somewhere. [/size]
|
|
Offline
Jun 18, 2013 19:29:56 GMT -5
Tag me @isadora
|
|
Post by isadora on Aug 25, 2010 2:13:37 GMT -5
He didn't say anything after she told him her father's name, and she wasn't sure how to interpret his silence. So she didn't make anything of it, letting the time pass in silence, trying not to focus on the unnerving sounds of metal slicing meat, however slight they might be. The life of a hunter or a butcher was even less her lot in life than that of a washwoman, it seemed.
She turned to meet his gaze when the sounds stopped, reading the disbelief plain there as he shook his head and got to his feet. She could only assume that he didn't believe she'd told him her father's right name; why would she lie about something so trivial? "You can ask anyone...I'm not lying. Why would I?" She said as she got to her feet, she had already figured out that he didn't like nobles, but she hadn't thought that he'd take it so personally. She had thought it merely an amusing coincidence; but then, she loved her father. She didn't think there was anything wrong with sharing his name, he was a good man. But Alistair probably didn't agree.
She got to her feet while he took the deer over to the drying rack, bending over to untie the loose knot he'd tied her skirt in. She followed his nod to the bucket of water, then nodded...and stopped. He wanted her to change...into what? Her gown was still over by the water bucket, true, but the interesting thing about her dress was that while she could take it off on her own, she couldn't lace the thing back up on her own. The laces were on the back, she couldn't reach; it was why noblewomen had maids, to help them into their ridiculous contraptions of dresses. She didn't want to admit to Alistair that she needed helping getting dressed, though. "...change into what?" She said awkwardly, this wasn't something she wanted to have to discuss with him. [/size] ((Good night, sleep well!))
|
|
Offline
Jun 18, 2013 19:29:56 GMT -5
Tag me @isadora
|
|
Post by isadora on Aug 25, 2010 1:19:34 GMT -5
She wasn't sure what it was, but something compelled her to turn her head towards him, meeting his gaze after she revealed her father's condition. She didn't like what she saw there. He was seriously considering using that, wasn't he? Well, it wasn't as though she had revealed anything that wasn't common knowledge; everyone knew the King of Gwent suffered from ill health. They just didn't know how how very ill he was. She hadn't expected sympathy from Alistair, in fact she had expected him to start plotting, but she had vainly hoped he would prove her wrong. She looked away again.
She wasn't surprised by his answer in the least, and for a moment, she thought she shouldn't bother telling him. But it was harmless enough, and she didn't want to talk about anything he might use against her later. "His name is Alistair." She told him, smiling a little. It wasn't that amusing a coincidence, but there wasn't a lot to amuse her out here. Despite being kept busy with chores, her mind wanted something to do besides focusing on menial tasks; if not for Mae distracting her while she was doing the laundry, she might have drowned herself in the wash water.
Isadora knew the names of the other nobles, although she only addressed those she was familiar with by name rather than title. To do otherwise would be rude. She often called Arthur by his first name, they'd been friends since they were children, so when they weren't around others, she could call him by name. His father, on the other hand, was always Lord Uther. She looked out over the trees while Alistair worked on the carcass, it was actually kind of pretty out here...once you got past the whole kidnapping thing. [/size]
|
|
Offline
Jun 18, 2013 19:29:56 GMT -5
Tag me @isadora
|
|
Post by isadora on Aug 25, 2010 0:36:29 GMT -5
Effortlessly, he picked her up and placed her off to one side...did all men just do that? None that she knew of, of course, but she didn't know anyone like Alistair. She sat next to him with her back to the bloody carcass, avoiding looking at the blood that had splattered on her hands and the makeshift apron. She was surprised when he asked about her father, she hadn't thought he would care...then again, he didn't sound too interested, more like he was just asking to pass the time. She thought that was odd; he seemed to prefer silence most of the time.
"He's...ill." She was hesitant to tell him too much. She didn't trust very many people with information about her father's condition, and she knew that Alistair would be more than willing to use anything she did tell him against her later. Or at least she was too suspicious that he might to risk it. Isadora worried more for her father than anything else in the world. "I didn't want him to leave Gwent, but the treaty was too important." She didn't wish to continue talking about her father's health...she was afraid she might say something she'd regret later. She was far too trusting of her kidnapper.
"Do you know what my father's name is?" She didn't want to stop talking, and since they were already on the subject of her father...she was curious. Most people knew the names of the kings, but Alistair hadn't known her name before he kidnapped her, so she doubted he was really listening to gossip about politics. Even about a monarch who shared his name. [/size]
|
|
Offline
Jun 18, 2013 19:29:56 GMT -5
Tag me @isadora
|
|
Post by isadora on Aug 24, 2010 23:47:14 GMT -5
She could feel Alistair's chest move when he laughed, his breath hot on her neck as he looked over her shoulder to see what he was doing. She let his hand guide hers, aware that she had no expertise in this area. It was hard not to think about the warmth of his body against her back, cutting into her focus as she tried to pay attention to what her hand was doing.
Cutting the flesh wasn't as hard as she'd expected, the sharp knife sliding through the thick skin easily, although the smell surprised her. She cringed as blood welled up and poured out of the cut, still warm, staining the animal's matted fur red. There was more blood than she'd expected, too, and it got on her hand as she let Alistair guide the knife through the flesh. She was mildly horrified that she was even doing this, the smell was enough to put her off meat permanently, but she didn't want to give Alistair the satisfaction of giving up so soon.
When he pulled the skin back, even her strength of will wasn't enough to prevent her from turning her head away in disgust. She would have even gotten up and walked away, but trapped in the circle of Alistair's arms, she wasn't sure she could. Just when she was thinking she might have to get up, he started talking again. She furrowed her brow as he began criticizing her for being too easy for him to kidnap. He was right, but it was everything she already knew. "I know all that..." She muttered, not sure how she could explain She had an excuse to counter every one of his tidbits of advice, but what was the point in trying to defend herself? Excuses didn't do her any good.
"I worry too much about my father. He doesn't leave the castle much anymore, so when he does...I get nervous." And that had her worrying about him again. He wasn't supposed to be stressed, she couldn't imagine what he was going through right now, with her missing. She felt like such a fool, she'd never get over it if something happened to her father because of her. [/size]
|
|
Offline
Jun 18, 2013 19:29:56 GMT -5
Tag me @isadora
|
|
Post by isadora on Aug 24, 2010 20:20:04 GMT -5
She frowned at him when he took the knife away from her, what was the point in telling her she had to skin the bloody thing if he was just going to back out at the last second? Maybe he really was afraid she would ruin the whole thing. She wasn't that disappointed, honestly, she just figured he had come to his senses as he pulled her up onto her feet. And then he just went and confused her again, and she turned her head over her shoulder to watch what he was doing. She didn't fight against him like she had at the river; he wasn't coming at her with a knife this time.
"What are you doing?" She watched his hands as best as she could over her shoulder, wondering what he was doing this time. Was he trying to make it harder for her to run away? Tightening her skirt like that would certainly accomplish it. Then he tied his shirt around her waist...she was slightly chagrined that he hadn't put it back on himself, but apparently he liked her to wear it. She was not even going to try and analyze the motive behind that action. When he was finished and kneeling next to the deer, she watched him for a moment before she kneeled down next to him in the same position she'd been in a moment ago.
She watched him a little warily as he moved behind her again, automatically stiffening as she felt him against her back. Her underdress didn't have any sleeves, leaving her arms and shoulders bare, so she could feel his skin brushing against hers as he pressed the knife into her small hand, keeping his hand over hers. Her heart rate quickened at his proximity, and she forced herself to believe it was just nerves. Butchering a deer was nerve-wracking, right? Of course it was. She laughed wryly when he suggested knife practice might help her in the future. "So now you want me to be able to defend myself? Hypocrite." She accused, but her tone was light and teasing, almost playful as she let him guide her hand. [/size]
|
|
Offline
Jun 18, 2013 19:29:56 GMT -5
Tag me @isadora
|
|
Post by isadora on Aug 24, 2010 15:03:57 GMT -5
Alone with him behind the house, she realized that he was still shirtless...because she was wearing his shirt. Her eyes lingered on the bare, hard muscles of his chest and stomach for a moment; it wasn't often that she'd seen men without all their clothes on, and it made something in her stomach tighten. When she realized she was staring, she knew she'd have to do something about it, and she pulled his shirt off, tossing it back to him. She assumed he'd know what to do with it.
Isadora rolled her eyes, then took the knife. "If I ruin the meat, you're the one Rilan is going to get angry with. After all, a stupid princess can't be expected to know what she's doing." Yes, she had realized the power relationship in the village; she was good at recognizing those kinds of things. It wasn't that she wanted to butcher an animal...that was really the last thing she wanted. But she didn't want to give Alistair the satisfaction of yet another thing she couldn't do; or in this case, wouldn't. So she knelt down next to the still-warm carcass, uncertain but determined.
She held the knife over the body, at a loss as to what she was supposed to do. "So where do I cut?" Honestly, she didn't want to ruin everyone's meal. Besides, if she did something wrong, she wasn't going to eat either. She looked up at Alistair, she didn't like having to rely on him for help, but she didn't see any other way to make sure that she didn't mess up too horribly. [/size]
|
|
Offline
Jun 18, 2013 19:29:56 GMT -5
Tag me @isadora
|
|
Post by isadora on Aug 24, 2010 12:04:24 GMT -5
She rolled her eyes again, a gesture that meant nothing to anyone but her since no one was paying attention to her. It was true that Isadora didn't usually swear, how could she? She was constantly surrounded by people who expected her to be a perfect, prim and proper princess. She'd been groomed her entire life to be a well-mannered young lady, and well-mannered young ladies did not curse. Even when she wasn't with other royals, what would her subjects think if their princess were foul-mouthed and vulgar? However, under the circumstances, she felt she was entitled to a little vulgarity of her own.
But pouting like this just made her feel like she was behaving childishly; she would never act so petulantly if she were home. Of course, no one there felt the need to constantly undercut her beliefs and treat her like she was useless. Even so, acting this way only made her feel worse about her entire situation and she didn't need that. She might as well just move on and try to make the best of it. It wasn't like she'd be staying here much longer...not if things went according to plan, at least. But she couldn't act too pleased. She didn't want to tip her hand.
She rolled her eyes when Alistair returned with the deer carcass, so now she was a little princess too? She supposed she deserved it, for acting like a child, but it didn't make it any less annoying. She followed wordlessly, having no desire to remain in the camp with Rilan having returned; no one wanted to spend time with someone who hated them. When he held out the knife to her, she looked from it to him as though he were insane, making no move to take the blade. She'd probably cut her own thumb off. "And what do you expect me to do with that?" He wanted her to butcher an animal? He really was insane; but she already knew that. Only an inane man would kidnap a princess, after all. [/size]
|
|
Offline
Jun 18, 2013 19:29:56 GMT -5
Tag me @isadora
|
|
Post by isadora on Aug 23, 2010 2:59:44 GMT -5
Isadora had no idea what it would be like to be an ordinary woman, she didn't know if she'd prefer the tedium of daily chores to her life in the castle, she doubted she'd ever know. Having grown up the way she had, she knew she could never enjoy a life like that now, not knowing what she knew, but if she'd been born a peasant, would she be able to be happy like that? She was curious, but supposed wondering was an exercise in futility. She wasn't an ordinary woman, could never be an ordinary woman, so what was the point in wondering?
She wasn't even normal as princesses went. Oh, certainly, some of them handled the occasional negotiation, in preparation for when they'd be queen, usually with their father and a band of advisers at their side. But princesses didn't rule kingdoms; they weren't supposed to. Isadora's father wasn't well enough to rule or even handle all the affairs of politics and trade on his own, and he didn't have any sons to take over. People expected a prince to take over from his father, but a princess? That was why she didn't advertise exactly how unwell her father was; no one, save her most trusted advisers, truly understood the extent of her father's ill health, or how many decisions Isadora really made on her own. People knew she 'helped', she just kept the details of that as vague as possible.
Of course he didn't respond, he never actually answered her. Just stared and changed the subject aggravatingly. A lesser woman might've screamed. She was certainly on the verge of it, but figured reacting like that was exactly what he wanted. She raised her eyebrows indignantly when he suggested going to the river again, almost challengingly. They didn't need more water yet, even a dumb princess like her could tell that, so he was just trying to get a rise out of her. She rolled her eyes. "Oh, fetch your own damn water." She didn't yell, merely spoke with an irritated tone to her voice, turning away from him. She didn't have anywhere to go, but she didn't have to look at him. [/size] ((Cool! For now I just need them to make the third trip to the river later, as planned.))
|
|