Chapter Text
Dragon 9:19
Elissa frowned, gripping her wooden blade a little too tightly. “You’re going too fast! Slow down, Fergie, I can’t–”
“Can’t keep up, little sister?” Fergus grinned, leaning slightly into a flourish. “Thought so! You just don’t want to admit it.”
Elissa huffed, swinging the wooden blade with a little more force than needed, clashing it against Fergus’s sword. “I can keep up! You’re just showing off!”
Nathaniel looked over the top of his book, raising an eyebrow. “I think she’s actually hitting you more than you’re hitting her.”
Fergus laughed. “She’s getting better. I’ll give her that.” He stepped back, mock-sad, and wiped an imaginary tear. “They grow so fast!” He turned back to his sister. “But one day, you’ll have to stop flailing and start thinking, Elsi.”
“Flailing?” the girl snorted. “I call it strategy! I’m strategically unpredictable.”
Nathaniel let out a quiet chuckle. “Strategically unpredictable. That’ll work in a real battle, I’m sure.”
Elissa glared at him, but the corners of her mouth twitched with a smile. “Oh, hush, you’ve barely touched a sword since you got here. You’re just watching us because you’re bored.”
“I am watching,” Nathaniel stated, “and I approve. Consider it… training supervision.”
Elissa stuck out her tongue at him, then spun to face Fergus. “You’re going down next round.”
Fergus clutched his chest in mock horror. “Oh no, not the wrath of the little spitfire!”
Gripping her wooden blade with renewed energy, the girl giggled, genuine and bright.
Fergus lunged, and she pivoted just in time, the clash of wood on wood ringing sharp and clear. Sparks of splintered wood flew where their blades met, and she could hear the faint rhythm of her own heartbeat, quickened by the thrill.
Nathaniel leaned forward slightly, curiosity flickering across his face. There was a faint smile tugging at his lips, a quiet approval in the way he watched her movements. For a brief moment, Elissa caught herself stealing glances back at him, noting how he seemed to notice her effort, her daring, her little triumphs, without saying a word.
“Careful!” Fergus called out, stepping back with exaggerated caution. “You’re improving faster than I expected. Don’t let it go to your head, Elsi.”
“I’m not worried about my head,” she shot back, swinging again, “I’m worried about yours!”
Nathaniel chuckled, returning to his book - but his eyes kept flicking up, tracking her with a mixture of patience and interest. She caught his glance, and a quick flicker of pride made her grin, just for a second, before she focused on Fergus again
Nathaniel shook his head, smiling despite himself, and went back to reading, while Fergus and Elissa continued their training, the clash of wood on wood ringing across the courtyard.
* * *
Dragon 9:22
Sunlight slanted through the stable doors as Elissa and Fergus moved around their horses, checking saddles and brushing the animals’ flanks. Dust motes drifted in the beams of light, stirred by the occasional snort or shuffle. The stable was alive with motion, and Elissa found herself smiling at the familiar sounds - the brushing of horses’ flanks, the creak of leather, the occasional whinny - that made the morning feel steady and full of energy.
The heavy door creaked open, letting in Delilah and Thomas, with Nathaniel following a few steps behind, boots clicking against the stone floor as they approached. Elissa straightened, brushing a stray lock of hair from her face. “Good morning,” she nodded, inclining her head.
Thomas stared at her, mouth slightly open, as if she were some curiosity on display. “Elissa Cousland,” he drawled, the arrogance of youth clinging to every word. “You’ve grown since last I–”
Elissa cut him off with a small, easy smile. “I’ve grown since last time you tried to ride a horse without falling off, yes.” She tilted her head teasingly. “I hope your skill has improved since then, hmm?”
The youngest Howe flushed, opening his mouth to retort, but Delilah’s cough - light, disapproving - cut him short. Nathaniel, standing slightly apart, raised an eyebrow, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. Her gaze lingered on him for just a moment longer than necessary. She wasn’t sure why, exactly, only that she felt pleased that he seemed amused by her words.
“Your tongue is sharper than your brother’s sword,” he said, amusement clear in his voice, though there was no condescension - only acknowledgment.
Elissa’s smile softened. “Better to be prepared, in case someone needs correcting.” She returned her attention to Fergus, who shook his head with a small laugh.
Leaning against his horse, he tossed his riding gloves into the air and caught them with a flourish, letting them snap against his palm. He grinned at the motion, clearly enjoying the small display. “All set, then? Ready to ride out?” he called lightly, glancing around at the group.
Delilah folded her arms and threw him a look of disdain. “It seems your brother enjoys showing off. I can’t imagine how you tolerate him.”
Elissa laughed, warm but teasing, stepping forward to give Fergus a playful shove. “Someone has to. Besides, he’s easier to deal with than some people.” She turned her gaze back to Thomas, giving him a pointed look while ignoring his deepening scowl.
Nathaniel stepped a little closer, voice dry but amused. “Sounds like a warning.”
“Consider it friendly advice,” she replied, her grin just shy of mischievous. She tipped her chin up, enjoying the moment. Then, almost unconsciously, she found herself watching Nathaniel again. There was something calm in the way he looked at her, patient but not distant, and she realized she liked the way he seemed to notice her wit and gestures. That subtle attention made her heart skip in a way she couldn’t quite explain - it was a strange, pleasant awareness - and she wondered if he had realized she’d noticed him too.
Fergus clapped a hand on his saddle. “Well, enough chatter. Let’s see who can keep up!”
The words pulled Elissa from her thoughts. She gave Nathaniel a quick glance, catching the faint smirk tugging at his lips, then swung lightly into her saddle. The group readied themselves, the stable doors creaking open to the morning light as they set off at a gentle trot, the sounds of hooves and shifting leather filling the air.
* * *
Dragon 9:23
The courtyard smelled faintly of hay and leather, the sounds of departing guests carrying in the air. The Howe retinue was preparing to ride, men-at-arms tightening girths and checking tack.
Nathaniel had just clasped Fergus’s arm in farewell when a voice cut across the space, sharper than he expected.
“You weren’t going to leave without saying goodbye, were you?”
Elissa stood a few paces off, hands on her hips, her expression caught somewhere between mock indignation and something softer.
Nathaniel let go of Fergus’s arm and turned toward her, half-smiling. “I thought I’d already been thoroughly seen off by your brother.”
“Well, Fergie doesn’t count,” she said briskly, waving her hand dismissively, then hesitated, her voice softening. “Not the same.”
Nathaniel tilted his head, amused. He hadn’t expected her to follow him out, not after the long rounds of farewells indoors. “I wasn’t planning to slip away unnoticed,” he said gently. “Though it seems I would have failed if I tried.”
Elissa shrugged, scuffing her boot against the stones. “So. You’re really going to the Free Marches, then?”
He offered her a faint smile. “I am. My father thinks it’s time I broaden my horizons.”
She wrinkled her nose. “That sounds like something fathers say when they want you out of the way.”
Nathaniel huffed a quiet laugh despite himself. “Perhaps. Or perhaps he’s right.” He studied her a moment, then added, “You’ll see soon enough - your own father will have plans for you before long.”
“Mm.” She tilted her head, eyes narrowed. “Plans aren’t the same as choices.”
Her candor gave him pause. The little girl with the wooden blade was still there, but she was beginning to think, to question. He inclined his head. “You’re not wrong. But - if you must follow plans, you can still choose how to go about them.”
Elissa glanced at him sidelong, lips twitching in a half-smile. “That sounds like something you practiced saying to sound wise.”
“Maybe it is,” he admitted, smiling wryly. “Did it work?”
She laughed, quick and bright. “A little.” Her lips curled into a faint grin. “I’d be cross if you ran off somewhere far without warning.”
Nathaniel chuckled under his breath. “I’ll keep that in mind. Your wrath is a dangerous thing.”
That earned him another laugh, though tinged with sadness this time. “Well, don’t forget us, then. Or me.”
The honesty in her words tugged at him more than he expected. He kept his tone steady. “I’ll miss this place. Fergus, your family… you too, Elissa.”
She seemed to weigh that, then squared her shoulders as though trying to look older than her years. “Then you’d better come back. And don’t take too long, or I’ll be all grown and you won’t recognize me.”
Nathaniel regarded her for a long moment, seeing not just Fergus’s little sister but someone halfway between the child with a wooden blade and the young woman she’d soon be. “I think I’ll recognize you whenever,” he said, voice quiet.
A sharp call from across the courtyard broke the moment - his father, summoning him. Nathaniel gave her one last small smile before turning toward the waiting horses.
Elissa lingered where she stood, arms folded tight, until the Howes’ banners disappeared past the gates.