I've Seen Better Days, Maybe Even Weeks

[xarae]

ooc: open for anyone to join
bic:

Sounds echoed in her brain, random splotches of color exploding before her eyes. The day was a dizzying one, the square crowded with villagers looking to buy the things they needed. Isabel loathed running her family's food stall. Not only was it avoided like the plague because of the girl running it (You know, that odd one? The one who tastes names? The housewives whispered as they crept past, hugging their children close), but hearing everyone talking - screaming, more like - drove her insane. Mary! Jane! Hank! Isabel moaned softly, rubbing her temples distractedly. Her mouth was watering with all the different flavors exploding on her tongue, causing her stomach to growl in a most unflattering manner. She hadn't eaten since the night before, and even then it had been slim pickings.

With two other children and a daughter that most likely should have been married by then, her parents were having a hard time scraping together enough for for all five in the family. Being the martyr she was (hah!) Isabel most often gave her portions to the younger girls. Being "normal," they had better chances of being paired off to one of the village boys. Sadly, she was most likely doomed to the life of a spinster, running her family's vegetable stall.

Isabel cast off these oh-so-depressing thoughts, leaning against her faithful horse's side. Vern was her constant companion these days, toting down saddlebags filled to the brim with vegetables and other various wares from their small farm for the selling. The girl was worried about making her poor horse sway backed before his time, but dutifully did as her father told her, loading him down with more food each day. Isabel sighed and stroked her horse longingly, glaring at the uncomfortable side-saddle that she was forced to use when riding in public laying against his hind leg. Isabel wrinkled her nose in distaste before she was distracted by another nauseating volley of names and words.

The girl hadn't received any business all day, though she assumed it was fair. Everyone who hadn't lived under a rock the past two years knew exactly who she was. Isabel sighed in annoyance, kicking boredly at a rock. It skidded unnoticed into the crowd, the sound of it skipping across the packed dirt soon lost in the shuffle of footsteps and voices.

It was funny how though there were a hundred or so odd people in the crowd, Isabel felt incredibly alone.

The blonde haired girl fingered the end of her braid in annoyance, flicking the tip with a careful aim of her thumb and forefinger. She watched with bored, dull blue-green eyes as it swung back and forth before she grasped her braid in her left hand and undid the tie at the end. Isabel worked out the complicated looping and twisting, ruffling her hair slightly with her hands. Satisfied now that her hair was free, Isabel dropped the twine hair tie to the ground and ran her hands through her hair fondly. She did like her hair, she just didn't like it braided, all caught up and restrained, though most often that was how she started the day. Her mother had threatened to tie her hands together if she didn't keep her braid in. Isabel had never lasted an entire day with it, and had never had her hands tied, so she assumed it was an empty threat.

Isabel picked listlessly at a loose thread in her skirts, glaring sullenly at the ground. She didn't know what her parents expected to gain by forcing her to work the stall. There'd been a dramatic drop in business (no surprise there) ever since she'd started, which had caused the food shortage in the first place. She supposed until her mother came to her senses and let her roam about the village like a normal girl instead of constrained to the market, the hunger in the Brighten household would continue. Vern snorted, as if sensing his mistress's unease. The horse turned his head and nudged her shoulder slightly. Isabel sighed and stroked his muzzle, ignoring the cold fury that was forming in her stomach. She'd wait this punishment out, just like she had all the others.

Her parents would come to their senses... eventually.

And I'll hate myself for ever
Pretending I'm someone else

Because everything I've ever done
Has gone straight down to hell

[/size]

[donjavier]

Javier rode towards Knighton, slightly dazed. Just that morning he'd been kidnapped: He'd gone down to breakfast as he had for the past three says, though with the same excitement he had on the first. The food served at the castle was like none he had ever tasted before. Some thrilled his taste buds, others made them want to curl up and die, but he tried everything he was offered with relish, thrilled at each experience. In France the meals has always been light and delicate, though thoroughly filling, where as here the food was thicker, heavier and put him in mind of English weather. He always thought food reflected weather - in the pleasant warmth of southern France the light food had been substantial enough to keep them fed, where as the constant rains and winds, not to mention the general coldness of England meant men had to fill their bellies full just to stay warm.

That said, he was still looking forwards to breakfast as he’d trotted down the stairs from his room. A serving girl had passed him on the way to the hall and he’d tipped her a wink, grinning to himself as she bushed and hurried past him. His mother had always said that of all his family, he was the one who’d been blessed with the looks, but that was little use as a fisherman. He’d been able to wind up the local girls, and sometimes wheedle himself an extra ounce of rice but that had been it. Now, thanks to some fine clothes and a bath - as well as his dashing good looks - he could raise a blush in the cheek of any maiden he pleased. Or so he liked to think.

Javier sauntered into the Grand Hall with more than his normal vigour and plonked himself down on a chair near a platter of something that looked like it could be delicious. It was whilst he was sthingying the foreign food onto his plate that the kidnapping had happened. “Right then! Who wants to help me move in?” Javier had turned, his latest forkful of food half way to his mouth as a well dressed man - a Lord, he presumed - strutted in and clapped his hands down on the edge of the table “You and you” Javier never found out what the strange English food tasted like as it dropped from his fork with a wet splat when the newcomer pointed at him.

On reflection, it wasn’t exactly kidnapping, but he had hardly had a choice in the matter. The possibly-Lord had left the room as abruptly as he’d come in, but even then Javier felt strangely compelled to obey him. He’d exchanged a glances with the other inadvertent volunteer - a powerful looking girl with dark hair sat a few places down from him on the other side of the table, but hadn’t had a chance to even open his moth before a call of “Well come on then!” echoed through the hall. The might-be Lord was sticking his head round the corner of the double doors. Still feeling somehow unable to defy him, Javier had scraped his chair backwards across the stone floor and followed.

So here he was, riding to Knighton to help Sebastian - for that was his name, Javier had learnt. He’d attempted to pronounce it, but after three false starts involving superfluous “e”s had been instructed to call him Bastian - move into his new home. From what he’d been able to gather, the previous owner had been removed - he wasn’t sure why - and the estate was in need of a new owner. As they’d prepared to set off, Javier had began to grow suspicious of Sebastian. The man had started asking questions - Where was he from? Which family? How long did he intend to stay in Nottingham? Javier deflected the questions as deftly as he could, though with a slight fear at the back of his mind that he might slip up. Although that hadn’t stopped his vastly flamboyant answers, though it probably should have; He was from Valencia, perhaps the greatest city in all of Spain - home of El Cid. His family had been wealthy merchants for years until his great grandfather had married a noble woman over a hundred years ago. Yes, he was aware he came from humble roots, but the merchant blood had become week by the time he was born. Yes, you could tell, couldn’t you.

He’d skirted the question about how long he’d be staying in Nottingham. Truth was, he wasn’t really sure. For as long as he could, he supposed, then he’d move on somewhere else. Nottingham was perfect, though - the Sheriff was happy to put him up as long as he still held the promise of Spanish gold. He’d had the idea on the crossing from France to England - he’d known he was going to make his fortune in England, but he’d never been sure how. For some reason, he’d not felt safe pulling his act in France. It was too close to home, to close to who he really was. In England, there would be no chance he would fail. And everyone knew the English were excessively rich - not just the King, but the nobles, too, and even some lower than that. On his way over he’d heard talk of the Sheriff of Nottingham; his wealth was spoken of, as well as his considerable influence, but what caught Javier’s interest was the mention of a desire the Sheriff had to get help from over seas. And Javier knew just how to exploit that.

Despite skilful handling of the stream of questions, Javier was grateful when Sebastian spurred his horse on to catch up with the woman - Daine, he thought her name was. By the time they reached Knighton the pair had pulled so far ahead that Javier had to make sure he didn’t lose them in the crowd of the square. It wasn’t that difficult - there were very few people on horseback, but Javier was so easily distracted by the sights around him, it was all so different. A stone skittered across his path , and even that proved a distraction. He turned to see where it had come from and his eyes lighted upon a girl. Something about here caught his eye - perhaps it was the way she sat so listlessly, evidently having no interest in her work, or perhaps it was that golden hair. Almost as he thought it, the girl started to un-weave the loose braid it was in, eventually letting it fall free around her shoulders. But this time Javier had reigned his horse almost to a standstill, unconsciously, as he had been watching the girl. Smiling to himself for the second time that day, he steered his horse away from the crush of people and towards the stall the girl was sitting at. Perhaps this would prove a more agreeable distraction.

[OOC - I think that constitutes uber XD]

[xarae]

Isabel felt as if she was about to drift off to sleep when the clatter of hooves attracted her attention. Her eyes slid upwards, finding herself eye-to-eye with a big, barrel chested animal. Blue-green eyes continued on until she met the eyes of the rider, dark brown and sparkling with some sort of chivalrous light. Ignoring his gaze, Isabel edged around the sacks of vegetables, sidling up next to the animal he was sitting astride. "Gorgeous beast, sir."

Isabel couldn't help but wince at the word sir. The taste of it, like ashes in her mouth, still bothered her. The girl ran her fingers along the horse's silken coat, her shoulder lightly brushing Javier's knee as she did so.

The girl was quite astonished that he'd come this far, to actually approach the stall. He must not know. This realization was a gleeful one. At least he hadn't been subjected to the gossip mill first, so she was free to make her own first impression. Just no slips of the tongue... doesn't matter what his name tastes like... Isabel leaned slightly against the horse's shoulder, continuing to stroke its neck before pulling back and stepping away so she could get a better look at its rider. The dark haired man had looks to match that of his mount, but then again, Isabel had always preferred horses to men.

She blinked once, twice, then smoothed down her well-worn skirt, feeling quite out of place standing next to the apparent nobleman. Issie glanced back at Vern, whose ears were pricked forward, the stallion eagerly awaiting his new "friend." Isabel resisted the urge to roll her eyes and merely gestured lamely towards the food. "I don't suppose you came to purchase something? Or perhaps standing there and gawking is more your forte." Of course, she'd seen him a few seconds before he'd actually come over, watching her take her hair out of its braid with something reminiscent of desire.

Isabel didn't like being watched, and when she was, her skin always prickled as if she was walking through a thorn bush. She rubbed her arms slightly, her skin still feeling unnatural. Her loyal steed snorted slightly, stamping a hoof and extending his muzzle to touch her back. Isabel stepped backwards, closer to Vern, and glanced up at Javier once more. His looks were foreign, definitely Spanish. So he truly doesn't know...

The girl smiled innocently, running her left hand through her golden locks. A few of the typical gossip mongers nearby stopped and stared openly. Let them stare. Let them wonder why the noble is interested in me - the village freak. Her mother had often told her she was pretty, and if she'd only stop ranting about "colors," she might get somewhere in life. Snag herself a good man.

Isabel almost felt the need to curtsy, but knew she'd only wind up making a mockery of the gesture, so she merely looked up at Javier through her lashes. "Isabel Brighten, at your service." The word service brought about a hard taste in her mouth, like the bacon fat. Isabel swallowed the unpleasant feeling gamely, still keeping her cool. She would enjoy toying with this young man, if only to give her a way to pass the time until sunset when she would tack up Vern with the remaining goods and make the tedious, side-saddled ride home. Her fingers danced across her horse's velvety muzzle and he eagerly pushed back against the light touching.

The way he'd stared at her as she had undone her hair gave her a light, fluttery sort of warm feeling in her gut. It was nice to know she was still wanted, in a way. Isabel could remember many a summer night when she'd stumbled into their small cottage, dress dirty and torn, smelling of horse and the forest. Her mother would cluck her tongue with distaste, mumbling softly, Well, at least if she gets nowhere in life, at least she knows she's pretty... Isabel had her fair share of suitors before her little "secret" had gotten out, and she often liked to think about what life might be like if her true colors had stayed within the family. Most likely, she would have married very well, allowing her children and those after them a good life. However, since life had went downhill since it had been spread around the village, she would most likely wind up a spinster, or living with a dirt poor husband and children who were hungry all the time.

Her gut seized at this last thought. Isabel didn't want to put any child through what she been forced to go through herself. Her parents loved each other, but there was barely a coin to their name. The stallion behind her whickered, butting her back lightly and tossing her out of her reverie.

Isabel glanced back at Javier, offering a coy smile and twining her fingers in Vern's well combed mane. He was very handsome, better than most of the village boys, but thoughts of Conor and Jon kept seeming to pop up in her head, arousing the flavors of their names as well. Isabel became quite distracted as apple pie and cinnamon melted on her tongue, glancing over her shoulder at Vern's broad back, trying to collect her scattered thoughts. It was nigh impossible. The younger girl closed her eyes briefly, snatched at the remnants of her sanity, and opened her eyes once more to face Javier. "You seem new here. Would you care for a show around?"

That would be easy enough. There were only a few main points of interest, all of which could easily be seen from where they were standing right now. A "tour" of the village would be a quick flick of her wrist. Isabel, however, liked the closeness of the small structures, even if it did mean that gossip spread like wildfire.

"Issie! Issie!" Girlish screaming brought her attention back to the present. Isabel turned, searching the crowd for the source of the screeching. It was easy to enough to find. Her sister, Claire, was busy shoving aside villagers, her loose dark blonde hair flying wildly behind her. Her sister was seven, so Isabel supposed she didn't know better, but she wished her younger sibling could have picked a better time to appear. A sack was dangling in her grubby hands, so Isabel supposed she was carrying some sort of extra things that she had forgotten at home. The young girl edged carefully past Javier's steed, approaching her sister balefully. "Mum tol' me to bring you this?" Claire thrust the sack at Isabel. Sighing, Issie reluctantly took it from her sister, opening it to peek inside. A lump of stale bread and a small piece of cold cheese, most likely her lunch. Isabel shook her head, handed it back to Claire.

"Tell her no. Give it to Emily, or Da. I don't need it." Her sister tilted her head to the side curiously, taking the sack and swinging around to look at Javier suspiciously. Isabel groaned and gave the girl a light shove. Claire huffed in annoyance and scampered away, disappearing back into the crowd. Isabel brushed off her skirts and glanced back up at Javier. "I do apologize. She's a sweet girl, just has a bad habit of dropping in at the most... inappropriate of times."

ooc: mwahaha uber <3

To all those listening
This is my story

About a confused girl
And a boy thats boring

[/size]

[donjavier]

Javier was surprised when the girl got up to stand alongside his horse. He had expected English women to be demure and reserved, but this one seemed to have no concern for his apparently incorrect ideals. Of course, in Spain, the women he had known had been brazen, forward types, but in Spain, he had been a fisherman. Now he was a Lord - or as good as, anyway - he had assumed things would be different. Apparently not. The girl seemed to have no reservations about approaching him. Then again, it was he who had approached her first, but even so, this wasn’t quite the reaction he’d expected.

The girl was looking intently at his horse, running her hands over its shoulders. He felt slightly annoyed that he didn’t know more about horses - this girl seemed very interested in them. He’d noticed that there was one standing by her stall, though why she hadn’t tied it up he had no idea. Perhaps his knowledge of horses really was that bad. All he’d ever needed to know was how to ride them, but now he wished he’d been taught more. His studies of Lordly-ness in France had constituted fencing, dancing and the classics, it had been assumed he’d have ostlers or something to take care of that side of things. As long as he could stay in the saddle, that was good enough.

The sound of the girls voice for the first time brought him back from his musings. It was deep, for a girl, but still strangely feminine, and very nice to listen to. When she murmured an appraisal of his steed, he replied automatically in Spanish, grinning at her lopsidedly. “Supongo que hables de mi caballo.” He hadn’t expected her to understand, and wasn’t entirely sure that he should translate it for her. He wasn’t even sure he could. He clicked his fingers absently as he sought for the right words “I suppose that you speak about my horse.” He was still working on his English. He’d just about mastered French, it was so similar to Spanish, but English seemed alien to him.

She stepped back, as if to weigh him up. He could hardly complain, as he’d been doing almost the exact same thing moments before, though he did feel slightly put out. English women definitely weren’t what he had been expecting. Perhaps it was because she was a peasant, she didn’t know how to behave, though he’d have thought that would have made her even more submissive in front of her betters. He shook his head slightly. He really was beginning to think like a real noble, and he wasn’t sure he liked it. He didn’t mind the way the girl was acting, it was just surprising.

And the greatest surprise came at her next words. "I don't suppose you came to purchase something? Or perhaps standing there and gawking is more your forte." He sat, stunned, for a moment, then bust out laughing. It was a deep, heartfelt laugh that came right from the pit of his stomach. He realised his jaw must have dropped open at some point and laughed harder - that can’t have helped his case. “I am not sure why I am here, senorita” He replied after he’d recovered slightly, wiping a tear from his eye. “perhaps there is something that you want to sell to me.”

Javier couldn’t help but grin at the situation. He’d never thought he would be at the mercy of a peasants scorn in his new life, but the fact he was had brought him back down to earth. He may be a lord now, but he was still the same person he’d been before. And the person he’d been before would most certainly make the most of this.

The girls sudden change to modesty startled him almost more so than her original immodesty, as she told him her name, looking demurely up at him through thick lashes. Well, he wasn’t going to have any of that. Isabel was far to interesting a person to revert into a social stereotype. He looked round the square briefly. People were staring at them. Was it so odd, for a lord to address a peasant? What if he really had wanted to buy something? Maybe English lords had people to do their shopping for them. If this was all the people of Knighton had to be interested in, he’d give them something to really stare at.

He dismounted lightly and stepped over to the girl, still grinning. Without hesitation, he took her hand in his, bowing low over it and placing his lips against her fingers. They were pleasantly cool and her skin smelt slightly of horses. Then it was his turn to look up at her through his lashes. “Don Javier de Valencia.” He informed her as he straightened up “And I would rather have your company than your services”. It was reckless, he knew, acting so out of his new formed character, but he had not fled Spain to be repressed in another country. He could always pass his actions off as lordly reflexes to pretty girls, and the fact he was foreign worked in his favour. As long as he carried it off with confidence, he could get away with anything.

The few people that had been watching them were gaping now. Most of the village seemed entirely uninterested in their conversation, but those old women seemed intent on knowing exactly what passed between the two of them. There were old women like that back in Spain and he’d hated them, too. He’d always made a show of things in front of them, just so he could laugh at their horrified faces. He winked at them, them moved his eyes away, looking for Sebastian and Daine. As he did so, Isabel offered to give him a tour of the city. He shrugged and accepted. There was no sign of his former companions and he was sure they wouldn’t miss him. He suspected Sebastian as just as prone to distractions as he was.

But before Isabel could start, a wild looking girl with runaway hair came screaming through the crowd towards his newfound companion. Javier looked on with curiosity as the child handed Isabel a sack, the contents of which she inspected before refusing it. He couldn’t help grinning again - this girl must be the most wilful he had ever met. He watched the child disappear back the way she had come before turning to face Isabel again “¿Era su hermana?” he clicked his fingers at his side again, trying to think of the word “ Your sister?”

[xarae]

"Your horse, and perhaps his master as well." Her eyes sparkled devilishly, though she did not falter in her words. She was emboldened by the now openly watching, feeling safe in the familiar environment of the village she'd grown up in. She'd test this nobleman's limits, if only for a giggle or two. Isabel felt safe on the ground, looking up at him one his great steed. As long as he didn't dismount, she could keep her cool. If he did - well, she'd deal with it if it happened. Isabel had a habit of over analyzing things and for once in her life, she simply wanted to act on impulse. And calling a nobleman handsome, even in the off hand way she had, was certainly impulsive.

Then again, Isabel guessed that he didn't deserve the praise. He had the air of someone who had had their ego pumped full to bursting throughout their entire life. However, most nobles did. She supposed he was no different.

Isabel leaned back against Vern's flank, smiling lazily at Javier. Today would certainly be eventful, or at the very least give the local washwoman something to chat with her customers about.

The younger girl noticed how he shook his head a bit once she stepped back to observe him. He seemed bothered about something, but even Isabel was not stupid enough - or impulsive enough - to ask what it was. A nobleman's concerns were not hers. Most likely it was something trivial, such as what to wear to the Silver Arrow Competition. Isabel had spent days piecing together scraps of cloth for a decent dress. It had come out well, more or less. A pretty shade of eggshell blue, made mostly with the remains of her mother's wedding dress and some odds and ends. It accentuated her figure wonderfully, and with the mask on, she liked to pretend that she might even get asked to dance.

That is, if no one realized just who exactly it was hiding behind the mask.

Isabel raised an eyebrow as he burst out laughing at her snide comment. At least he was a noble with a sense of humor. The lord took a few minutes to clam himself down while Issie watched with mildly interested eyes. "Sell?" Issie toed the sacks of vegetables with distaste. "Unless you're interested in cabbage and carrots, I'm afraid not." She thought vaguely of all the long hours that her father, her, and her sisters had spent in the fields growing the food, only for it to go to waste because she was running the stall. It made her feel sick.

Issie smirked slightly as he smiled. He seemed to find the whole situation amusing, but then again, most lords did enjoy interacting with peasants as some sort of sick joke. At this thought, she glanced fleetingly around the square, searching for someone who looked as if they would be attached to Javier. Seeing no fine clothed men laughing at the "pitiful peasant," Isabel looked back at Javier. He seemed interested in the women who were busy gawking at the pair. Isabel shrugged briefly. "Their lives are empty. They look for things to fill the free time - I just happen to be the subject of their gossip as of late."

When he dismounted, Isabel paused slightly in her methodical stroking of Vern's neck, eying him curiously. What, exactly, was he planning? He was still smiling, at least, so it was nothing sinister. Issie tilted her head to the side curiously, but he soon closed the gap between the two of them, leaning down and taking her head in his. Hands flew to mouths in the crowd as they watched. How improper! Socially crippling for the poor noble! He daren't! Whispers assaulted her ears from all sides, but Isabel was took busy grinning wickedly.

Don Javier de Valencia. Isabel mulled the name over in her head. The taste was like nothing she'd ever had before. A sort of tangy, citrus like burst of flavor. Isabel licked her lips, smirking in a self satisfied manner as he stood up. "I do like your style, kind nobleman... it has a certain flair."

Isabel laughed aloud, a soft girlish giggle that didn't match her voice when he winked. They seemed to think alike, almost frighteningly so. The girl broke off laughing as he shrugged, seemingly accepting her tour. Isabel rolled her eyes, extending a hand and gesturing loosely to the most important buildings, such as the smithy's, the mason's, the stables, the local tavern, and a few other points of interest. There wasn't much in Knighton, but it was home.

Issie glanced up over at Javier after she had sent Claire off, the strange language going over her head. She noticed he often snapped his fingers when he was searching for words, an endearing, if a bit annoying habit. "Yes, my sister. Her name is Claire," Isabel said absently, shifting her weight from foot to foot for a moment before edging past Javier and standing near his mount. Issie stroked the horse's shoulder before glancing at him, her eyes questioning. "What's his name?" Isabel glanced at the horse, admiring its shining black coat. Of course the beast had been taken care of as only a nobleman's horse could be. He was strong and his eyes sparked with health. The stable hands in the noble stables truly did know how to handle an animal. Issie glanced back at Javier, resting her cheek against the horse's neck and looking at him in what she assumed was a demure manner.

Life in Knighton really was boring without people to toy with.

We fight this fight to stay free
And never say 'never'

If you leave this choice up to me
I'll stay young forever

[/size]

[donjavier]

Javier couldn’t help but smile at the compliment. Usually such a comment got him a slap, and he'd had enough of those to last a lifetime. It was nice, if somewhat surprising, to find someone who had the same attitude to social conventions as he did. Still, Isabel seems to be a pretty surprising person. Hell, he was surprised he was even in conversation with her. He'd always had a tendency towards spontaneity, but he'd intended to curb that in his new found Lordship. Well, it looked like that plan had gone out of the window.

Not that it mattered. He was already enjoying the conversation with Isabel too much to care. He had never thought he would meet anyone so engaging in his new life, but he was certainly glad he had. He didn't think he'd have coped if he'd had to spend all his time with stuffy nobles. He'd already nearly burst out laughing when one of them had tried to tell him about the new system of taxes the sheriff was considering implementing. He’d gone on and on in such depth that Javier could easily have fallen asleep, if he’d been the kind to do so.

"Carrots?" He asked, when Isabel pointed out the things she was selling, a confused look on his face. That was a word he didn't know. Then he looked at the sack of vegetables she'd just motioned to "Ah, zanahorias." He said, suddenly understanding "I do not like them, but my horse, perhaps" he said, patting the horses side. He wondered vaguely if he had any money with him, he'd feel rude taking up Isabel's time if he had no intention of buying anything from her.

"Their lives are empty. They look for things to fill the free time - I just happen to be the subject of their gossip as of late." He turned back to look at Isabel as she talked to him. Evidently he had noticed him looking at their audience."I know" He replied "There are women like that en España. Putas" He added with faint disgust as he unhooked his foot form the stirrup. He was fairly sure Isabel wouldn’t know the word, but did feel slightly abashed for swearing. He‘d done it all the time back when he‘d been a fisherman, but he supposed that lords were supposed to have more civil tongues. "But I can understand why you are the subject of their gossip." he said with a grin, once he'd dismounted.

Javier raised an eyebrow as Isabel licked her lips upon hearing his name. That was a new one. He began wondering if it was something all English women did, but the thought died before it was half formed. Isabel certainly wasn't "most English women", he'd have to stop thinking like that if he was ever going to get anywhere. If he wanted "most English woman" he'd have stayed in the castle with that kitchen maid.

"Claire" He repeated the name, frowning lightly at the strange vowel sounds "We have no Claire's en España.” He ran his tongue round the inside of his mouth “it is difficult to pronounce. But Isabel," he started, with a grin forming at the corner of his mouth "this sounds..." He trailed off, thinking. He didn’t click his fingers this time, there was no specific word he was trying to recall, it was almost as if he needed a whole new word to try and describe what he was thinking "No sé" He said quietly.

Her next question about the horse disorientated him momentarily, and it took him a moment to realise she was referring to the horse "Hmm? Oh, I do not know." He said, turning round to pat the horse gently "He is not mine." He thought distractedly back to his childhood, how he and his brothers had played El Cid, and they'd always made him play the knight's horse - Babieca. He had hated it then, always wanting to play the hero, but now, somehow, he didn't think being a horse would be so bad. "Babieca" He mumbled, almost to himself "I had always thought, if I were to have a horse I would call him Babieca" He smiled fondly as he said it, though he doubted the thought would ever mean anything to anyone else in this country.

[xarae]

The smiled encouraged her bold actions, leaving her with a pleasant feeling in her gut. At least he was someone who seemed genuinely nice amongst the distracting surrounding of cruel glances. A group of village boys passed, pointing and laughing rakishly. Despite her strong personality, a light blush rose in her cheeks. Isabel pushed her hair behind her ears, but it invariably came loose a few seconds later when Vern leaned forward and touched his muzzle to her shoulder. Startled, Isabel turned and stroked his nose lightly. It seemed he was jealous of her paying more attention to Javier's horse than she was him.

Issie rolled her eyes, "Selfish beast," She murmured quietly as her fingers danced over his withers and down his spine. The horse snorted and lowered his head, eyelids drooping, Isabel smiled softly at her horse, then turned back to Javier, the smile still on her face.

He repeated the name of the vegetable back to her like a question, and she reminded herself that he was not quite familiar with the language yet. Isabel shrugged when he spoke once more, assuming the foreign word was carrots in his native language. "Ah, of course, your noble steed." Isabel fished two carrots out of one of the sacks, offering one to Javier's horse with her palm flat and fingers outstretched so he wouldn't mistake them for another carrot. The horse lipped it up carefully, as she had suspected it would, eating it with satisfying crunches. Isabel turned and offered the second one to Vern, who ate it with less manners, snapping it up and chomping greedily. Issie rolled her eyes before turning back to Javier. "Consider it payment for such good company."

Isabel smiled warily as he spoke of the women in the general area, all of them seeming to glance at the pair every other second or so. "Their kind are everywhere, it is no concern to me what they choose to spread around in the rumor mill. Mostly their words are crafted from lies and jealousy, and of course pure boredom," Issie said, her words lacking the bravado they normally seemed to have. She did not enjoy talking about the various women in the village, all of whom detested her, be it for her pretty face (though they had no need to be jealous since she was socially crippled), or for simply being out of the ordinary.

Humanity has a funny way of rejecting things it cannot understand.

Isabel glanced at him, blushing slightly at his raised eyebrow. She hadn't noticed she'd wet her lips until he'd made the subtle gesture. Usually she could rein herself in when she heard new, interesting names, but it had such an exotic and foreign taste, something she'd certainly never experienced before. Sometimes it was too hard not to be herself.

Issie tilted her head to the side as he spoke. He seemed to go off on a slight tangent, but she smiled none the less, merely murmuring, "Hm?" at the end, as if she didn't quite understand.

Isabel smiled as he spoke of the horse, laying her hand on the horse's side for a moment, As he went to pet the beast, she drew back, their fingers brushing for a moment. Damn my pale skin... Isabel could already feel the blood rising to her cheeks and quickly ducked her head down, collecting herself, then meeting his gaze once more, this time her eyes slightly steely, as if she had convinced herself not to let him get to her. "Babieca?" She repeated back, a friendly smile on her face. "I like that." The name had a slightly buttery taste with a warm, friendly brown glow. It reminded her of freshly baked and buttered bread. Isabel stepped forward slightly, leaning to the side to check behind Javier and make sure Vern was still standing politely. He was. Issie breathed a sigh of relief and leaned slightly on the horse's shoulder, glancing at Javier. "So, what brings you to Knighton, sir?"

I know you don't want this, but know
that I need this more than I did before.

It's easy to see that it's hard
to ignore your subtle hints

[/size]

[donjavier]

Javier smirked as Isabel referred to the horse as his "noble steed". The beast was almost certainly more noble that he was. It was even likely that it had more noble blood in it than he did. Still, he'd always held the belief that nobility was more about attitude than breeding, and they both had plenty of that. He saw the way the horse neatly took the carrot form Isabel's hand. A proper gentleman, he thought. Well he guessed they weren't so similar in that respect. Isabel and her horse seemed much more suited.

He shook his head when she offered him the carrots for free "My company is not going to fill your coffers." he replied, fishing in the purse at his belt for a silver penny. He may be a Lord, but he was still going to pay. His title meant he was better able to afford things, not less. "More, my company is probably not worth a carrot." He added with a grin, as he he flicked the coin into he air with his thumb before catching it in the same hand and holding it out to her.

Javier heard the derision with which Isabel spoke about the women who were looking at them and refrained from saying anything else. His cousin Pilar had once been subjected to such gossip and he'd gotten a slap for just mentioning it. He didn't think Isabel Even if he was acting like nobility, he didn’t have to act like a callous bastard. Surely the English gentry had some empathy, at least?

The blush that rose in Isabel’s cheeks as he raised his eyebrow made him realise it wasn’t the best of ideas. He lowered it quickly, finding himself avoiding her eyes for the first time in the conversation. He didn’t want to seem derisive, like all the other bloody nobles around here. There was something a little like shame that welled up inside him, but he pushed it back down. He never got anywhere by second guessing himself. Instead he smiled, and looked back up at Isabel, trying to pretend he’d ever done anything out of place.

Even though she half-enquired after what it was he’d been mumbling, he didn’t attempt to repeat it. He hadn’t been entirely sure what he was saying - perhaps it wasn’t something you could say in English. For the first time, he felt ever so slightly homesick, wishing for once there was someone he could converse with in his native language. It wasn’t that he disliked present company, he simply couldn’t say exactly what he meant. He told himself he’d make a better effort to improve his English. Perhaps one day he’d let everyone know exactly what he meant.

When Isabel’s hand brushed against his he didn’t immediately notice anything was wrong. He’d been so absorbed in thought of his child hood and the horse he never owned that the touch had seemed perfectly natural. It was only when he realised Isabel had bowed her head that it occurred to him something untoward had happened. He smiled to himself, half at her reaction, half at the fact he hadn’t even noticed. He retracted his hand from the horse, hoping to avoid any further mishaps. He had no intention of making the girl feel awkward.

“Babieca” He repeated, looking into the distance as if he could see the legendary war horse on the horizon “He was the horse of El Cid, perhaps the greatest hero Espain has ever seen” He smiled, though it lacked his usual bravado, and flicked his eyes to the ground before looking back up at Isabel “A bit arrogante, no?” He didn’t mind laughing at his own egotism, though he did so with something vaguely resembling nostalgia. Hell, he was a peasant parading as a noble, how more arrogant could you get?

He frowned momentarily at Isabel’s next question, not understanding her at first. Then it clicked. She meant the village. Somehow, he must have missed what it was called. Knighton. He wasn’t even going to try and pronounce that. “I was with, er, friends” He hesitated before using the word, but it would probably take him quite a while and far too many clicks of the fingers to think of a better way of saying it “But I seem to have lost them”

[xarae]

Isabel watched the coin trick with vaguely amused eyes. She'd seen copious amounts of foolery like that over the years, usually ending with someone in the audience stealing the coin. However, she started slightly when he offered her the coin. It was more than she'd make in a long, long while. The girl bit down on her tongue and backed up a step. She badly needed the money, but her pride prevented her from reaching out and snatching up the coin.

She smiled thinly, then shook her head and reached out, folding his fingers back over the coin and pushing his hand back. Peasants lurking around the pair gasped slightly at the refusal. Nearly everyone knew how poor the Brighten family was. Once word got back to her mother, she knew what would come at her. 'You stupid, stupid girl! Get out of my sight before... Leave, just leave!' Issie decided she'd had enough of the flak her mother - and everyone else - was giving her, just because she was different. Although she could understand her mother's anger at refusing the money.

Issie glanced away from Javier for a moment, almost at the same moment when he avoided her gaze, and stepped around him, back towards Vern and the food stall. She glanced back at Javier with a cool gaze, almost as if daring him to try and offer the coin again. There was a sick feeling in her gut that told her something bad would come of this, but she attempted to ignore it.

It was very hard, though.

Isabel felt the stares of others on the back of her neck. At the flashing of a coin, gazes were naturally drawn to the source of the money. "Keep your purse close when you leave, sir. You've attracted the interest of many," Issie's words were low so the surrounding peasants didn't hear. She felt like a bit of a hypocrite - she'd stolen more than her fair share when she was younger, and poor Claire simply would not shut up, crying and moaning for lack of food. Isabel did not consider herself better than her fellow villagers, but she didn't want Javier to go back to the Hall only to find his purse slit. He really did seem too nice for that, though there were a fair few nobles she'd wish that upon.

Isabel glanced briefly at the sky. The sun was sinking lower and some of the peasants were trickling away from the open square. She suspected her mother would want her home soon. There were a fair few chores that still needed to be done with her name on them, as well as last minute touches on the dress for the fair. Issie huffed slightly and ran her hand through her hair, closing her eyes and trying to calm herself down. She was sure there was still time.

She smiled when he mentioned the name again. He seemed lost in his own thoughts, so she simply listened patiently as he spoke. Isabel was a good listener, a talent she did not display often, as she was usually too busy speaking herself. "Everyone is entitled to their own share of arrogance," Issie said, smiling devilishly.

Her fingers slid across Vern's muzzle, winning her a soft whicker in return for her kindness. Issie sighed softly and laid her cheek against his soft neck. "Friends?" She laughed, but only a little. He seemed uncomfortable, as if it wasn't exactly what he meant. "Nobles don't often have friends, at least not that I know of. It's good to see someone breaking the trend around here. It gets so... boring."

Could you feel when I snuck in?
Starting slowly a battle I could never win

Could you feel when I burst through
I am the sunlight drenching you

[/size]

[donjavier]

Javier didn’t quite know what to feel as Isabel reached out to close his fingers over the coin he’d been offering her. One the one hand he was offended that she’d thrown his charity back in his face - he could afford it, and by the looks of things she needed the money, but on the other hand his respect for her rose by her refusal. It was definitely brave, to refuse money from a lord. He could force it on her, he supposed, but that would sour the act somewhat. Anyway, he wasn’t the type of person to force people into things they didn’t want - he hadn’t escaped the people doing it to him so he could do it to others.

He heard the gasps of the people that had been watching then and felt suddenly worried for the girl in front of him. People like that always gossiped, and the refusal of a fair sum of money would not go down well if word got round to her family.

He decided to laugh it off, stowing the coin back in his purse and chuckling gently, but making sure the old hags across the square could see. “Perhaps I could pay you in some other means?” He asked, grinning at her and rising his eyebrows questioningly. The suggestive question came out automatically, bur he supposed it fitted in with his persona as an arrogant Lord. He wasn’t entirely sure that’s what he wanted Isabel to think of him, but she’d shown she could be just as bawdy as he could.

“Keep your purse close when you leave, sir. You've attracted the interest of many.” He grinned at the warning. She seemed suddenly so serious and earnest that he answered almost reflectively “Do not worry yourself about me” He said, keeping his voice low like hers had been and leaning in conspiratorially “I know the tricks of thieves” He winked at her and grinned again. Back when he had been a fisherman theft was part of every day life - there was only so much money to be made from honest trading, and most of the dealing had been done by exchanging the fish for other items of value, mainly food. But the other things they had needed - clothes, tools - required money. Over the years, he and his brothers had perfected the art of theft. Well, his brothers had been the real artists, he’d merely observed and taken in what he could, then tried it himself. They’d had a bit of a head start on him, both of them being older, but they’d always found a use for him in their little schemes.

Javier noticed that people were slowly trickling away from the square, although the women who had been watching them so intently showed no sign of budging from their posts. He resisted the urge to stick his tongue out at them, but only just. He should probably attempt to find ‘Bastian and Daine at some point, although he suspected they might not want to be found too soon.

He smiled when Isabel mentioned people being entitled to arrogance. He wondered whether she included her self in that - she probably did. It was an interesting view of the world, that everyone in it should be allowed a share of something, a far cry from the hierarchical society they both found themselves in. He shook of the philosophical thoughts and replied to her statement with a grin. “Would you say the same for pride?” He asked, looking meaningfully at his purse. Her earlier spurning of his attempt to pay her was still playing on his mind, but he didn’t let it bother him too much.

“Friends?” She sounded incredulous as she laughed at him. She was right, he supposed, that wasn’t what he’d meant to say anyway. Although he took her next comment as a compliment “I am not sure I am breaking the trend, just unsure of the right word in English” He answered truthfully. He couldn’t help but play up to the perceived compliment, though “But perhaps there are other ways of breaking trends” he finished, with a wink.

[xarae]

It had briefly crossed her mind that there would be consequences to her actions, but none of them seemed too dire. More hours at market? Fine, more of a chance to run into Javier again. Being kept home? Oh well, she could spend her hours in the field with Vern. Going with food? Frightening. She already did now. Forced out of her father's house? No matter. Knighton was, as far as she was concerned, of no great importance to her. There were no friends for her her here, merely her family and Vern. She knew if it did come to that, her father would send the stallion with her. He loathed the work her father had him do and was more of a liability than an advantage.

At this thought, she stroked Vern's neck idly. Being alone wouldn't be too bad. More freeing than anything else, she supposed. No one would be there to whisper, at the very least. Once she left, she could become a model woman. Quiet, demure - meant to be seen, not heard. Isabel shuddered slightly, pushing the thought away. The notion of becoming a sheep, just like the rest of the women in the village, terrified her.

Issie glanced up at him as he laughed. She decided she liked his laughter, as it was so unlike any well-bred noble's restrained chortle. She smiled in return, feeling obliged to show her appreciation of his company.

"By some other means? What, exactly, do you mean?" Her eyes danced with a wicked light, a small smile turning up the corners of her lips. Isabel, of course, knew exactly what he was insinuating. A few of the women close enough to hear even blushed and edged away slightly. She laughed lightly, taking a step closer to the Spanish noble. When he spoke once more, he leaned in, and she found him frighteningly close. Isabel forced herself to smile in return, as if they were somehow partners in crime, but found herself blushing despite her strong willed attitude that she would not let him effect her.

I know the tricks of thieves. Well, that was a new one. Typically nobles were totally unaware that the very people who almost worshiped them would just as soon cut their purse. "I see you are smarter than your fellow nobles, then," Isabel murmured, leaning in just as he had. The girl laughed lowly, then stepped back towards Vern. She felt safer closer to her horse - her heart didn't race so much as when she was close to Javi.

Issie let her thoughts dwell briefly on his comment about thieves. Thievery was simply a way of living among peasants. Her sister Emily was a master at it. With her baby face and wide, innocent eyes, no one suspected a thing of the sweet girl. Thinking of this, she supposed it really was a shame she would get snapped up by a suitor soon. Emily was certainly street-smart enough to take care of herself, and Isabel knew she deserved much more than a small, dilapidated cottage and four or more children. In fact, she liked to think every woman deserved more than that. She certainly didn't want that life. At least, not with a man she didn't truly care for. The notion of love was silly in these times. Her heart was not given to the one who truly wanted it - rather to the highest bidder.

The square was slowly clearing out, leaving Isabel feeling marginally less claustrophobic, and much more comfortable. She sighed softly, smiling warmly as one of the women who'd been watching from the beginning began to walk away. Issie lifted a hand and waved an enthusiastic goodbye, wicked humor dancing in her eyes. The woman ducked her head instantly, a hot blush on her cheeks, as if she hadn't noticed the pair watching her watch them. Isabel rolled her hands and dropped her hand back to her side, then folding them in front of her in a ladylike manner.

"Pride? Of course. Except those who undermine the privilege. Egotists are the absolute worst," She said lightly, keeping an innocent smile on her face and her hands folded. Isabel ignored his meaningful look, knowing very well he thought she could use the money. In truth, she could, but she didn't dare say anything to make him think so. Issie lamely followed the line of his eyes to his purse, raising a delicate eyebrow, as if she had no idea what he meant, when she quite clearly did.

Isabel chuckled softly. "To be completely honest, your English could use a bit of work, but I suppose you have servants for that - being a noble and all," She said softly, adding an over dramatic wink at the end. Issie laughed lightly at his next statement, smirking and taking a few steps closer. As if putting on a show for all the women still watching, she placed a hand on his shoulder, lingering there for a moment before running her fingers down his arm, pausing at his wrist. She could feel his pulse through the expensive fabric of his shirt. Glancing up at him momentarily, she withdrew her hand. "I am quite a fan of the extraordinary, you see. What is normal, shouldn't be. It is quite fun to test the limits of yourself - and others."

This show's come to an end
And now the fun begins

Just step into your skin
And let things unfold

text in purple © a change of pace
[/size]

[donjavier]

Javier’s brow crinkled ever so slightly as she smiled at him. True, it was a gesture of good well, but there was something not right about it. It seemed somewhat forced, insincere, as if she felt she had to, rather than simply wanting to. He tried not to let it bother him - she probably had better things to be doing than being bothered by pushy nobles.

He grinned at her response to his question, though. The insinuation had slipped from his lips before he could stop it, he hadn’t expected to be challenged on it. He’d think twice next time - Isabel was as sharp as he was. He should have guessed she’d come out with something like that. “Ah” He made a show of putting his hands to his pockets “It seems I have nothing else. Perhaps my unworthy conversation will have to suffice.” He looked at her apologetically for a moment, before an involuntary grin crept onto his face again.

He noticed her blush at his stepping closer with amusement and surprise. If ever there had been a maid less likely to blush, Javi didn’t know her. Then again, he’d only met Issie this-afternoon.

He couldn’t deny he was enjoying her proximity to him, and felt slightly disappointed when she stepped away. He made himself put on a grin, though, and think of a suitably arrogant reply “But of course” He said. Waving his hands around like the mincing courtiers he’d met in England so far “I had thought that obvious”

Keeping up his wit in English was getting a lot easier, but Javi still struggled with the grammar and pronunciation. In Spanish, he was always the first to crack a joke, mock a friend for an idiocy or offer a pith comment on current events, but it was so much more difficult when you had to think trough the conjugation of verbs and what in the name of Christ the right noun was before you could even begin to reply. He was getting much better, in his own mind, at least, but he longed to be able to talk without having to think.

But that would mean a return to Spain, which was out of the question. Even if he did have to grapple with his brain every time a word left his lips, life was so far improved it hurt to think about it. Here, he could live like a king. Well, a lord, but the principle was the same. Either were a vast step up from the lowly fisherman he had once been. And he was really taking a shine to the English people, too, he thought, his eyes flicking quickly over Issie’s slender form. That wasn’t the main reason he liked her, though, there were plenty of beauties around - or at least women who were not as plain as most. It was her spirit and pure audacity he found enthralling. Even as he watched, she was showing up one of the hags who had been watching them. He joined in, giving the woman a slow, deliberate wink and she skulked away like a downtrodden fox.

Issie seemed to be oblivious of his meaningful comment, though he more than suspected she was just ignoring the undertones he’d put there. Moreover, she seemed to be throwing it right back at him. Well, two could play dumb “Oh yes, the absolute worst” He agreed, nodding his head sagely “Although it has been my experience that pride can be apocalyptic” His quick-thought comeback was soured slightly by his inability to think of the English word for apocalíptico, but he did his best not to let it show in his face “ Famine especially” He reflected her innocent look, trying to stop the corners of his mouth from twitching up, and not doing a very good job of it.

He looked at her as if offended, brining his had to his heart in mock disbelief. “Creo que su español nesecita auyda” He retorted “But yes, being noble and all, my English can be as poor as I wish it to be” He didn’t let Issie know that she had struck a real nerve there. Hid problem with language, and his concern with that problem was still eating away at him, but as always, he laughed it off. He stuck his nose in the air and waves his hands around again, in a grotesque, over-elaborate mockery of the members of court - especially one Sebastian Mannering.

Thinking of that made him remember why his was in Knighton in the first place. His host would not be best pleased if Javier vanished without even slightly helping with the moving in. The sun had already travelled a fair way across the sky, and the market was emptying. Issie‘s comment pushed him out of his musings, and he let out a laugh in spite of his concerns about ’Bastian’s wrath “You sound like a monk” He said, immediately thinking of the way the devout Christians in his country pushed them self to the absolute limit, mentally and spiritually. Physically as well sometimes, with their days of fasting. That was another way they and the girl in front of him were similar, though the comparison ended there. He didn’t know what those religious men would make of Isabel, but he was fairly sure it would not be good. He liked that “I would rather not test the limits of my host, Lord Mannering, though.”