Balls ... who needs 'em

The room was energetic. Dancers entered and exited the floor like bees to a hive. Laughter and merriment echoed off the ballroom walls. Ellie thought that was probably not a usual occurrence around this place. It looked to be rather dreary under all the current festivities. And there was that rumor of a curse. It was nice to be her though and see her friend Daveth take his vows. That other fuck, she could give two squats about. There was another she had thought to speak with. The questions she had for them. A devilish grin forces her scar to wrinkle over her eye. "Excuse me, my lady. That is a beautiful gown. Aren't you afraid you may get pie on it." Ellie waits for Loreia to take notice of her, the playful smile still emblazoned on her face.

Panning in the direction of the young lady, Loreia briefly notices the scar. Has that always been there?

She wipes the concern from her face. "Lady Ellien! I've nothing to fear as long as someone doesn't drag me off toward any eating competition," she responds, tittering at her own reference. "Thank you for the complement, I thought it would be. I hope my lord and his sons have been gracious hosts to you and your family."

"Yes, I have been enjoying my self. No lack of entertainments or refreshments." A grand event. No doubt the heirs doing and not some stodgy old solider of a Lord.

"You can call me Ellie if you would like, my friends do. I consider making fools of ourselves eating pies makes us a bit more intimate than these buffoons will ever allow themselves to be." She nonchalantly throws her arm over the crowd.

"It is a beautiful dress and it definitely highlights your oft times forgotten attributes. Do you think you could fight in it, if needed?" As they often did questions left her lips as the entered her brain.

No mention of before? Maybe she's forgotten?

Loreia warms up at the invitation to be less formal. "Thank you, Ellie. Although, I'm afraid I must hold myself to the same standard as said buffoons, now that I have one foot in with the rest of them - if only a foot."

Ben wrote:"It is a beautiful dress and it definitely highlights your oft times forgotten attributes. Do you think you could fight in it, if needed?" As they often did questions left her lips as the entered her brain.

She giggles a little at the mention of forgotten attributes. "'Could I fight in it'?" The dress doesn't extend all the way to the ground, one can see her shoes beneath - not well-heeled as most nobles are likely to dress.

"I think so. I don't want to ruin it, though. In a fight, give me steel over fine wool or silk any day, I'd be less likely to return to Grenward in tatters."

An appraising look of thought lingers over Loriea's answers, her small mouth twisting about her face at different angles. "I was born in this cesspool that you only have one foot in, so take it from me their standards are worth" a quick look around. "fuck-all. Play their game but always remain above them. The good ones are few and far between." She waves at the air as if to dismiss them all.

"Do you think perhaps you have opened the door for other girls?" She says enthusiastically. "I once stabbed a man." Than with a bit of surprise remembers the circumstances. "Oh shit, of course you do. I am so very sorry." Then her speech accelerates. "Was he a friend? Is he well? I am sure he must hate me. I don't think I could ever be a solider. Do you feel sorry for the people you have had to ... you know?." Her small features bounce from emotion to emotion with each question, wonder, concern, fear, and remorse.

(ooc: were you referring to the above event or the subsequent challenge by you?)

[The challenge.]

Ellie's unflattering appraisal of the 'game' elicits a roguish smile. I think I really like this one...

She nearly giggled before she saw recognition of the faux pas in the noble girl's eyes. Instead of answering everything like a record-keeper, she focuses on cutting to the heart of the issue. "He's fine, Ellie," she soothes. "It was years ago, and I'm sure he only regrets bringing a sword to a fistfight. There was no honor in him to defend that night."

Not that my duty would demand defending him, if we're being honest.

"I may have been overzealous myself. As if common people haven't suffered that and worse without recompense. It was all an unfamiliar setting, but I wouldn't have admitted it back then."

Ellie is reassured by Loreia's words, a small smile returning. "I must admit I feel we were all out of our element that evening and following time. Though Ben has his reasons for being overprotective at times," For some trust is hard fought for. And harder defended. "I believe the malice of that night aided in his stupidity."

Turning her eyes and fleet mind back to the dress and new title she reinstates her investigation of female knighthood. "Do you think you would be dressed like this tonight without your knighthood?"

Benedict Marsten wrote:Ellie is reassured by Loreia's words, a small smile returning. "I must admit I feel we were all out of our element that evening and following time. Though Ben has his reasons for being overprotective at times," For some trust is hard fought for. And harder defended. "I believe the malice of that night aided in his stupidity."

"That is good to know. I hope he's taken my advice to heart, however crudely given."

Ben wrote:Turning her eyes and fleet mind back to the dress and new title she reinstates her investigation of female knighthood. "Do you think you would be dressed like this tonight without your knighthood?"

"Truthfully, no, but this is a new experience for me. I can't deny that this almost feels like a dream, but I wish I could wear my breastplate over it." She pauses. "But then I'd know for sure that it's a dream," she adds with a giggle.

A growing smile raises her cheeks. She nods in affirmation of Loreia's response about the dress. It confirms what she had assumed. "Well then I will say your knighting is gift to us all. Not that a warrior in his own right is not beautiful, but there is nothing more captivating than a well ... formed female in a properly fitted dress. I can only hope to someday fit a dress as well." She glances down at an as of yet to bloom chest and then back with a shrug.

"Is the plate more for security or familiarity? I often feel similarly when my brother is away or I am at House Krieger. I feel it is both for me."

Flattered, but catching onto the subtlety of her words, Loreia spares a conscious glance down at herself as well. "Goodness, aren't you sweet. Just wait another year or two Ellie, and it will get easier. Time is your only hindrance," she encourages, dancing on subtlety with the young maiden. Though perhaps she is overstepping?

The look fades when Ellie transitions away from the topic of fitting dresses. Or filling forms?

"Familiarity," she answers slowly. "I'm perfectly secure, but the fighter in me wants to be ready for battle should anything happen... 'Both' for you, you say?" smirks. "Are you having any ideas about joining men in battle, like your Lady Sister's cousin?"

[Unfortunately, I do not know Ellie's age or whether she's reached majority, so I feel like I'm risking insult.]

"Ah, Corrine feeds me the same aurochs shit." she giggles playfully to assure Loreia that she has taken no offence. "I think it's the Gods way of getting even for all the trouble I get into. That or they know how dangerous I would be with weapons like those. Extra cakes from the kitchen boys, my horse would be spotless and fed better then the king, and no boy could keep a secret from me." She appears daydreaming of her conquests, a small devilish smile creeping out. Laughter pulls her back.

"As for fighting, I don't think I would have the balls. No offence. I just figure there are two types of warriors those with conviction and the stupid. And lets face it balls make you stupid. And I feel I would lack that conviction unless my family is threatened." She pause in thought. "I don't know. Perhaps I should at least give it a go. Just for the sake of the opportunity you have given us. It would be fun to have a few whacks at Pudgy."

(ooc: 14/15 a late bloomer.)

Loreia laughs at Ellie's word choice, and nods as she listens. Two types of warriors: true. Balls make people stupid: true. Believe me, more than half the women in the Seven Kingdoms know that.

"That's the way," Loreia cheers. "Do you think he might let you if you tried?"

"You mentioned House Krieger earlier. I didn't think much of it, I haven't really heard of them. Do they treat you well?"

[Is Paul in attendance?]

"Of course." She says very sure.

"Well as a good bannerman should. Old man, Krieger is a bit of a grump, but he has softened a little since Corrine found him a wife. His daughter Gillian she is one of my dearest friends. They did suffer a good deal under Lady Isobel. She lost her brother, who was heir, to clansmen raiders. I guess that makes her a lot like Corrine.

I have to say we do have to tone down our ... adventures when at Sword Hall."

Ben wrote:"Of course." She says very sure.

"Well, there you have it, then! I take it he's a friend of yours?" A smallfolk squire, mayhaps?

Ben wrote:"Well as a good bannerman should. Old man, Krieger is a bit of a grump, but he has softened a little since Corrine found him a wife. His daughter Gillian she is one of my dearest friends. They did suffer a good deal under Lady Isobel. She lost her brother, who was heir, to clansmen raiders. I guess that makes her a lot like Corrine.

I have to say we do have to tone down our ... adventures when at Sword Hall."

"That sounds terrible." I know what it's like to lose family to savages. "I knew inheritance was an issue for the Marstens, I just didn't know why. Lady Corrine has proven to be a good matchmaker, is she looking into taking care of Gillian on that front as well?"

"Oh? What sort of adventures?"

(ooc: Pudgy would be at the tourney, but more than likely manicuring horses, oiling something leather or sharpening something pointy unless sleeping. Ser Markus makes great knights from overworked squires. One of your questions has put me on hold, as there is an off-season event related to it, unfinished. )