Thread: Squire's Secret (Benny and Gunner)

Was this how men acted around everyone? No, just other men. If they ever did encounter a lady, a real Lady, they might change their tunes and all begin waxing poetry and charming solicitations. As knights of nobility, they all had the etiquette training but that wasnt a tenth as fun as the martial activities, which bred and separated real men from the effeminate courtiers. Effeminate to these knights had a broad definition. One did not need to wear perfume or put rosy colour in their cheeks to appeal to a womans refined tastes to garner that moniker. People who were literate, who indulged pacifist tendencies, those were the effeminate ones as well. Those who could not stand their own against any challenger, they might as well be women themselves. So what did that make Friderick then, who sat on his bunk, back against the wall, with parchment and a quill laid upon his bent legs? As a Baron and Lord in his own right, he had to be literate to govern his fief, no? Even if it did make him look weak to his fellow warriors. What was the point of such temporal power if he could not delegate to others though? But there was no one else in Alnerwick that he trusted for that task. And it wasnt even that which he was doing. No, Friderick was writing a letter, a personal letter, to Lady Auriane of Bertillon. A woman he was trying to court, albeit far away, for many years, hoping he might win her affections with another tournament dedication. And perhaps compel her not to marry the richer Count Theodore. She was the only woman in his life, though the sentiment was not vice-versa for Lady Auriane. But she was his only chance for a proper future, a complete future, with husband, wife, and child. The only woman in his life The door opened and in came his squire, Jacques. His icy blue eyes popped up to look at the boy. Messy hair, disheveled clothing, and looking like he had seen a ghost. Now he did look effeminate to Friderick but that was customary with boys his age, between childhood and adulthood. By all accounts Jacques had to be a man. He just hadnt done the real vigils and he wasnt referring to the knighthood trials either. Friderick was responsible to take this bumbling idiot and turn him into a dangerous, sword-wielding and decisive young lordand idiot. He was still staring at Jacques, expecting a report on the duties Friderick had sent him on. Something was wrong though. Friderick could see it in the boys face. Something had happened that had discomforted this young man. It wasnt his job to coddle the boy. Certainly not, as he wouldnt learn anything, especially how to react on his own. But a part of him also sympathized. Jacques had probably never been away from home on his own. This was all new and terrifying. He had to serve another rather than be served, which was difficult for any Lord or noble to do. Jacques kept his clothes on, as if scared or discomfort. Friderick might have rolled his eyes. Did he never bathe with the other boys, play in the river, wrestle shirtless or visited the sparring grounds? These rooms were not heated but even in summer they would get very hot. He shrugged. Jacques would have to learn some things the hard way then. Still, he couldnt help but notice too that Jacques hands and feetlooked very soft. Never did a days labour in his life, have you? And he was supposed to win a tournament with this boy? He couldnt focus on his letter now. He folded the parchment, barely two sentences added on, and placed it upon the nightstand between their two beds. There was barely two steps between their cots. He swung him legs over and sat on the edge, facing Jacques. What the hell happened to you? He demanded outright. Did the muck and horseshit get to you? Youll get used to it. There are worse smells than horse shit. Have you seen Ser Reginard? That was the ginger-hating big knight. It was meant as a joke and Friderick offered a half-smile to Jacques. He put his hands to his neck, where he began to unstrap the bindings of his tunic, unveiling a bit of his chest. He did so casually, as he always did before bed, preferring to sleep shirtless. How was Wingfoot? Did he give you any trouble? He inquired as he took his tunic off and flung it beside his pillow. His body was unveiled fully. His chest was broad, with a bit of dark hair across it and thinning down to his abdomen, which itself was wrought and strong, the flesh hugging the tendons of muscle firmly. He didnt do any of this to impress or show off to Jacques. It was just regular behavior between knights and soldiers. He knew Wingfoot would have given Jacques trouble. He always gives trouble, even to me. But thats what makes a good warhorse and charger. He is free spirited and independent. Dont treat him like a pet. Treat him like an equal. Dont try to bid him to meal times. Put it there and hell come to it himself. Its like with dogs. If they sense fear or hesitation, they will assert themselves and take advantage. Have confidence. Friderick said, before looking sharply at Jacques. You should be able to get a lot of it, given how you shudder in your boots. He flatly said to Jacques and just stared at the boy, challenging him to say different. Get a little backbone or everyone is going to take advantage of you. The Baron had no idea he was saying this to a girl. If he knew, tradition and custom demanded he make sure the girl stay submissive and obedient. Women werent supposed to be assertive in their culture. They were supposed to be wed and breed babies and manage the household, nothing more. Never standing up for themselves. Tomorrow, after we wash, well see how good you are with a sword then well ride. Theres still days to Archmouth. You ever been to Archmouth before? Its nothing like your fancy Lancaster. Do you know what decay and rotting fish smells like? Youll find out, boy. Friderick said as he moved to lay down on the bed. A little lady might tuck in wonderfully at his side.