Thread: Squire's Secret (Benny and Gunner)

Jacqueline was taken aback by Friderick's rancor when she attempted some polite conversation. Her mouth hung open a little at the salty, sarcastic words. She cleared her throat and looked down to the table. Apparently there was one thing she never bothered to learn. How to talk to men. Well, how to talk to men as a man. Did men wear two faces? One when speaking to a woman and another when speaking to fellow men? This was certainly something of an education. Little did she know it would only go downhill from there and Friderick wasn't entirely done. He continued on about the lifestyle of travel. Jacqueline was careful to school her face, trying not to look like a puppy that was being berated by its owner. Well she only expected such things. She had traveled a fortnight on her own, few taverns or inns along the way. Pack that up. With what? Jacqueline glanced around a moment before remembering the kerchief. A smallish square of dark green linen, lined with clumsy but detailed little flowers. She dusted crumbs off the bread before resting it on the square and tied the corners together for a neat little parcel. It was the last bit of needlework she had done with her mother before leaving. She hated needlepoint and was not particularly good at it but it was something she couldn't bring herself to leave behind. Aye sir, she simply said as he laid out his plans. A small grin couldn't be helped. He could berate all he liked but maybe he'd come around when he saw her skill. Maybe not with mace and her shield work wasn't the best but spear, bow, and sword. More importantly the lance. Then a knight behind them spoke up. She glanced over her shoulder only to see the various sets of eyes on them. The tavern had grown quieter too. She felt her ears warm but sank her teeth into the soft flesh of her cheek. Don't flush damnit. Friderick had drained his ale and she took a couple sips of the wine but left it, dropping a couple of coins on the table for the bar maid. At every order Jacqueline gave a sharp nod. Easy enough tasks. Though the suggestive remark made her eyes widen. Wide enough they just might plop right out of her skull. Glancing over she looked at the barmaid. Her pose, the way her breasts nearly overflowed for the men. The way the men seemed to stare. Culture shock. This was...not what she had envisioned. This had to be a farce. Ew... she whispered quietly to herself. This was certainly not what she had in mind when setting out. Learning to fight, getting to ride and joust. Not in her wildest dreams did she imagine any of this. Lord above. With Friderick gone the other knights took their turns with snarky and crude comments. Jacqueline hesitated a moment with raised eyebrows. She had never heard such language before! Weren't these knights? Her mouth opened as if to say something but she thought better of it and snapped her teeth together. Gathering up the parcel of bread she turned and left with an irritated scowl not even realizing the quick walk was nearly stomping and contributed to a bit more of a swing of the hips. Once out the tavern seemed to roar with laughter. Seen my wife stomp out like that! One man howled as he pounded the table. More men made like that might turn a fellow, another guffawed into his ale. Jacqueline made it to the safety of the stable. Once there she could breathe a small sigh of relief. It was quieter and horses didn't spout vulgarities every second breath. She set the parcel down and went to William first. The handsome bay whickered in greeting as she stepped into the small stall. I must be mad, she said quietly to the stallion as she gently stroked his velvety muzzle. Why didn't you tell me men were such boorish creatures? Seems I've done well to avoid marriage. She laughed quietly to herself before setting to work. This work was easy enough, feeding and hauling water. She had to ask the stablehand which horse belonged to Sir Friderick. The boy seemed nearly terrified as he pointed to a distant stall. Red brows quirked as she turned and headed over. The moment she tried to enter she nearly recieved teeth in her shoulder. Nah! She snapped at the charger with a sharp tap to his muzzle. This seemed to take him aback a moment. Just a moment. He stomped both front legs as if considering to rear. Hey...hey now, easy, she said with a laugh. Think you're a big tough fellow? Wingfoot stopped and shook his head. No fear. Horses were simple creatures and after those displays in the tavern Jacqueline welcomed simple creatures. If you are done fussing I'll feed you. She moved to give him a pat but Wingfoot moved away. Oho! Crabby now aye? Well that's fine. She fed and watered the horse and left him to his own devices. Jacqueline spent the remainder of daylight in the stable with William, brushing out his coat, mane, and tail. She would give the same attention to Wingfoot if he wasn't being sour. Just like his master. All the while she considered the absurdity of her decision to play as a man. She would just have to adapt. Loosen the shackles of proper upbringing and good breeding. It shouldn't be that hard, right? As the sun started to sink to the horizon she filled a pitcher to bring to the room. Pitcher in one hand, parcel of bread in the other, she headed back into the noise and stench of the tavern. Not even four steps in and a pair of hands encircled her waist. Jacqueline felt the blood drain from her face as a massive set of breasts pressed to her back. Never been called a lady before. Ohhhh such chills you give me little sir. The barmaid from before hissed into her ear. All around the roaring laughter boomed like a great drum. The woman's hands drifted lower. Jacqueline stepped to pull away but the woman grabbed her tunic, dislodging it from her shoulder. Unhand me! She shouted and wriggled harder as the woman's hand darted down. Jacqueline moved her leg just in time, the woman grabbed a handful of thigh rather than a handful of nothing the woman would have been expecting. Ohhhh little lad, don't be afraid. I'll show you a good time. She chuckled and purred. Jacqueline's heart raced, panic set in. If the woman kept yanking and pulling she would end up disrobed. Jacqueline didn't mean to do it. Let go! She shouted stepping a leg between the woman's skirts and hooking her ankle. A elbow drove into the wench's corset to push her back. Instead of just pushing her back the woman was toppled over. Silence. The woman was sprawled on the floor, skirts askew and over her head. Jacqueline's tunic hung off a shoulder but the undershirt hid anything else. Her heart beat in her ears as the group of men stared. Breath caught in her chest as she looked around at the myriad of shocked faces. B...beg pardon... Jacqueline managed before fleeing like a frightened rabbit. Last door on the left. The door flew open as she ducked in and slammed shut immediately. Red hair tousled, tunic askew, paler than new milk, Jacqueline panted as she leaned against the door a moment. Bearings, collect, calm. Blue eyes stared forward in panic. After a few moments her eyes darted towards Friderick. Clearing her throat she stood upright and raised an arm to right the tunic a little. Without a word she walked to the water basin and poured out what remained in the pitcher. Like a cat misjudging a jump she moved as cool as could be, as though she hadn't flown in there like a banshee on fire. If that will be all I think it is time to sleep, she said. The forced calm exterior might have been convincing if not for the warbling tremble in her voice. She cleared her throat once more as she removed her belt and the runic. The undershirt and breeches would have to stay. Sitting on the bed shaking hands unlaced and pulled the tall, black boots off.