Thread: Squire's Secret (Benny and Gunner)

Scissors whispered softly in a small clearing. Jacque of Lancaster stood behind his twin, Jacqueline of Lancaster, his hands steady with sheep shears as he cut away at her hair. A warm red snow gathered around her. Light caught and glimmered like sparks of fire through the red tresses. Both had glaring red hair, the same finely boned faces. The differences were subtle, Jacque's jaw a little stronger, Jacqueline's cheekbones a little higher. Startling bright blue eyes and neat little noses. Shorter and shorter he cut her hair until it hung about her ears. Jacqueline reached a shaky hand to her crown. Soft and short like the fur of a pup. Shorter, she said quietly. She'd had a mane to be proud of. Now it lay in piles on the grass around her. Jacque purses his lips some and huffed a sigh. Too short and people will wonder if you have lice, he said as he began to cut again anyways. Too long and they'll question my gender, she quipped back. Jacqueline's hair was short near as short as a terrier. She wishes for a looking glass to see just how different she looked. Hopefully enough like a young man. Ruffling her newly shorn hair she rose up off the partially rotted log. She wasn't as tall as Jacque who was also relatively short for a man. Shined boots gave her an inch or so extra in height. Already she wore simple breeches and a green tunic with white edging. The colors of her house. A rampant badger edge in white splashed across her chest which was bound tight with linen. A far different feeling than her usual garb of a boned corset. She met her brother's eyes. Despite the roughspun robe he wore she supposed looking at him was near enough to tell what she looked like disguised as a man. Her twin's eyes were wide an round as he stared. Could I fool you? She asked with a wolffish smirk. Not quite but you just might be able to fool father, he said with a chuckle. Your turn, she said as she gestured to the log. With a straight razor she sheared her brother. Rather than a sever cut he was losing it all. The flesh pale and smooth as she shaved away the soft fox pelt that was her twin's hair. Jacqueline hummed quietly as she gently went about her work. A shame they have no creams to make it a bit more comfortable for her twin. The process was not so long or so difficult and soon her twin aged ten years. His bald head gleaming in the filtered light. With a deep breath he rose. She could sense his trepidation. This is an awful lot to avoid marriage Jacqueline...are you sure...? But she cut him off with a fierce snap. It isn't just the marriage. While a large part it wasn't the only. She was happiest riding and fighting not counting stores, needlepointing or sipping tea enduring rigid conversation. She also didn't wish to marry and just be someone's wife. A someone she didn't even really know. Probably someone who just wanted land. She refused to be relegated to a baby farm. Of course there was the lie. Jacqueline had convinced her parents of her ardent desire to join the church. It noon several moons to fully convince them to allow her to go to a covenant. There she could live out her dreams of a quiet, pious life. How her parents finally believed she wasn't entirely sure. She had been very well known in neighboring estates as quite the hellion. Riding about as if the hounds of hell rode beside her astride the apocalyptic horse of war. Maybe they supposed it was better. Sure she could sing and dance, play the harp and flute, her needlepoint was dismal and her skills at managing a household were...mediocre at best. What man would want such a wife? Even if she wanted to be one. Then this is farewell sister, Jacque said tightly. Jacqueline felt a similar tightness in her throat. Two sets and she wrapped her lithe arms around her brother. Their hearts beat frantically yet in perfect sync. Please be careful...you know the laws... Yes, she knew them well. Discovery meat death. Worse it could mean marrying. Tomorrow or fifty years from now...death could come. I would rather live my life to the fullest for a month than exist as a man's property. With that the twin's broke apart. Jacque headed for an old nag, swaybacked and ancient she would slowly bear him to the monastery. Jacqueline headed to William, a fine charger with a glossy chestnut coat and black mane. His saddle well polished, reins shined and sparkling in the light. Jacque was due to meet Sir Friderick of Alnerwick. An arguably poor but respect knight having earned land and titles in tournies. He had agreed to take Jacque as his squire. None would be the wiser that it was the female twin who arrived. It would take nearly a fortnight to meet up with Sir Friderick and the small group of tournament seekers he traveled with. She kept to main roads, pausing at inns to check the track of the group. While she knew where the tourney would be held she wished to meet up with them before reaching the groups. Settle in and understand the group before the chaos of the tourney began. Finally she found an inn, three days ride to the estate where the tournament would be held. The group of traveling knights, along with others, had stopped for the night. Jacqueline handed the reins off to a stable boy quickly being told that rooms were already sold out. She had spent a few nights under the stars and wouldn't begrudge a sleeping spot in the hay loft. Thus far none were the wiser of her gender. For all purposes she looked like a man, perhaps more like a boy, and was treated as such. Shouldering her pack she headed into the inn. A cacophony of music and shouting assailed her ears. For a moment she stepped back as if to run. Men were everywhere, the only women in sight were the bar maids. Most of them being pinched or dandled on a man's lap. The rest rushing about to keep the ale flowing. Jacqueline took a steadying breath and headed in. Her knuckles were white on the straps of her pack. None one had been wiser of her gender yet. This would be no different. She looked around only suddenly realizing she didn't know what Sir Friderick looked like and hadn't even asked what his colors or sigils were. With another steadying breath she drew herself up to her imposing five and a half feet and approached the largest group of me. Excuse me.... Too quiet, a couple only looked up because she approached. Excuse me! She bellowed in as loud and manly a voice as she could muster. I'm looking for Sir Friderick of Alnerwick, could you direct me to him?