Thread: I'll Be Good (OffToTheRaces x Quantum Tangle)

Three weeks had passed since the old seamstress had abruptly departed from Denerim, taking her boarish son with his chubby, groping fingers along with her as well as any payments owed to the elves who had been in her employment. A note had been posted on the boarded up windows and doors In Antiva until further notice no forwarding address, no mention of existing ordersno coins. She wasnt the first to flee in fear of the Blight, and likely wouldnt be the last yet another employer gone meant another source of income, however measly it was, was severed from the Alienage. At first, Este had been too relieved to feel concern. She had worked for Lady Quigley for over a decade, and while the garments were of the highest quality in the capital, they were produced by labors of exploitation that no one cared to acknowledge, if they took the time to even notice. As far as the majority of Denerim was concerned, if the Alienage elves managed to find employment they should be happy. Most businesses kept their elves in backrooms and hidden away but Lady Quigley boasted about her staff as if she were running a charity, cooing over their nimble fingers and how they were perfectly suited for working in textiles. Yet her compassion was ever the faade, and the moment doors were closed the old, prunish woman would be red in the face, squawking demands and berating the smallest deviance from her visions. Even worse however was her son, a spoiled oafish boy who had no need to tromp through the Alienage to sate his boredom, as so many children of the upperclass tended to for he had his own personal selection to prey upon. Thankfully, though the word would be loosely used, his mother kept a sharp eye on her workers not for their sake, but for deadlines. His harassment was confined to whispered uncouth commentary and occasionally wandering hands.. Those hands had wandered across Este once while she was retrieving fabric from the basement low enough in their privileged curiosity to fold her skirts between her thighs, betraying angles and shapes that were not expected to be there. Andraste or whoever had created her, had blessed Este with feminine features and inclinations to match. Growing up as she began to favor skirts, her Uncle had not dissuaded her. He had already lost too much in his time, and life was difficult enough as it was for their kind when Estaron had wished to be called Este, he complied..and eventually so did the rest of the community. He would warn her often, however, to keep her secret guardedthe world was not a forgiving place, especially for those who wandered from the norm. Lady Quigleys son had not outed her that day from shock or contemplation, she would never know, as within the next few days theyd departed from Ferelden. She had saved enough coin that the first two weeks without employment had not been too difficult, but at the start of the third week, her cousin Brea had announced her engagement. Marriage was a community event and she could not let her favorite cousins day be anything but perfect when it arrived. An offer was posted in the Alienage for jobs to accompany the army and given the coin promised, Este felt that doing laundry for soldiers for a small amount of time would be worth the less than ideal circumstances. Though as she seemed to be given reprieve from one potential disaster, another presented itself almost immediately once they arrived in Ostagar. A group of soldiers had surrounded her while shed been delivering fresh sheets. Five men, two of which blocked her path forward, one who blocked her steps back, sending her against his chest.. Now now, whatve we here? You come to offer relief for the soldiers? Serve the men serving the country? Saving your pretty face From those ghastly beasts Ghastly beasts whod do ghastly things to a pretty thing like you Why dont you show us some gratitude? Maybe she wants ghastly things done to herSeems the sort, doesnt she They reeked of ale Estes dark eyes darted around quickly, paying no attention to the increasingly vulgar words, instead looking for a way to escape. One of the soldiers had noticed her lack of response and quickly relieved the basket from her hands, tossing it to the bushes as he stepped forward, and before she could protest, his hand moved down to grasp between her legs. Where Lady Quigleys son had registered a vacant stare, confusion and then fury rose to the soldiers face. Fucking knife-earred wisp! That bold hand clenched into a fist and collided immediately with Estes face, knocking into her nose with enough force that within seconds, she tasted blood. She had screamed, but only realized such when the sound pierced the air. The soldier behind her clasped his hand over her mouth while his comrades closed in around her, the blood from the first blow slicking his fingers to slip over her lips and in that moment, with her heart already racing, she bit the mans fingers -- hard. Howling, he dropped her to the ground and Este tensed, bracing herself for the underside of boots or fistsbut nothing came. With her breath clutching in the back of her throat, she looked up in time to see guards with the royal emblems marked upon their armor taking hold of the soldiers. They struggled initially, though only one spit in venom towards her, but something made them all freeze when their attention was directed towards the rail above themas if sobriety had hit them instantaneously. With blood still freely pouring down her face, Estes dark eyes wandered up the wall, fixing upon an older man whom she recognized only as someone who had ridden directly beside the King on their way to Ostagar. While he was focused on the soldiers, she grasped the ground beneath herself to stand, intending to gather up the spilled sheets in the overturned basket, and hurry back to the servants area to clean up. As she staggered to her feet, one of the guards wordlessly clutched her by the arm and began to lead her towards the steps.