Urda - A Squire's Story

New Boots And Britches

Urda taken so long in changing into her new garb, that after awhile Leander suspected that she might've climbed out of the Inn window and fled him as he waited upon the other side of the door. True enough, the room seemed very quiet from within when he ceased his pacing long enough to strain to hear. Leander dipped his head and put his ear to the door before knocking gently.

"Urda?"

He called through the wood, and to his relief, the girl called back after a short pause. Though even Leander could tell that her voice sounded strange.

"D-don't come in!"

"I'm not. I'll wait just out here," he called back, and for once in his life Leander hoped that his voice sounded mildly reassuring. The thought was a strange one; new and foreign. A frown returned to the Knight's face and he resumed his pacing outside.

Though still, Urda was taking a ridiculously long time. And after several more minutes of pacing had passed Leander huffed impatiently and returned to rap on the door.

"DON'T COME IN!" Shouted again the shrill little voice on the other side.

Though this time Leander ignored it and pushed his way inside. He was greeted by the sight of Urda in the middle of the room, wide and watery-eyed, tangled within a doublet; she had been trying to put the item on upside down. The girl suddenly sobbed with his abrupt entrance. And as he crossed the room to help untangled her from the hash she was making of dressing herself, Urda hugged onto narrow ribs with her frail arms, as if to hide her skeever-bitten little body from his sight.

"Well I don't know how to put fancy stuff on!"

She had began shouting amidst her sobs. Silently, Leander guided her arms into the appropriate holes and deftly buttoned her up, finding that he couldn't quite manage to meet her eye for the shame of the situation that they had found themselves.

"You think I've ever had other clothes before to wear?! Well I ain't!!"

Urda blubbered on. Horrible fat tears. And Leander felt something gnawing at his stomach that felt awfully like guilt. Perhaps he had bitten off more than he could chew with this particular venture. Now he was stuck in a small room with a crying child and he was completely void of anything to say; he knew that he should say something. Anything at all. But he didn't know what. So instead, he changed the subject as Urda stood with tears running down her chin.

"Have you ever ridden a horse before?"

Somehow, Leander had managed again to say entirely the wrong thing, for Urda wailed harder and shouted up at him.

"Of course I haven't even ridden a hoss before! I ain't never worn a cloak before! I ain't never had boots!" She continued, now small, angry and ranting; but still weeping, "So I likely ain't never been near a hoss, have I?!"

She ended her tyrade with a spectacularly loud sniff, and despite now possessing a handkerchief, Urda still wiped her nose upon the sleeve of her new doublet.

Though, Leander ignored the nose-wiping; just as he did Urda's raised voice and brazen backchat just now.

"Well we are going to buy you one, just now. We will ask the stable master for something placid, that way it will be easier for you to learn to ride. All Knights must learn to ride, Urda."

He swept her fur-lined cloak about her little shoulders, and Urda meekly lifted her chin as he fastened it beneath. He'd outfitted her exclusively in boy's garments; the merchant had said as much when he had bought them. But he didn't see much practicality in having Urda running about the place in a little dress and corset and stockings and whatever other ridiculous, impractical garb girls were expected to wear.

Still, Urda looked a damn sight better than just an hour before, he thought as he stepped back to look her over. Silently, he wondered whether she'd ever permit him to cut off that unruly mass of red hair. It was impractical, and it made her look untidy. Though so did the skeever bite on her cheek. But time would heal that, he supposed.

"Come on, then," he spoke again at last, turning to head from the room and awaiting the patter of Urda's following feet once outside.

***

"What is 'placid'?" Urda asked once they were outside the city gates and at the stables.

"Placid means peaceful. Easy going and gentle natured," nodded Leander to the girl, before returning to his exchange with the stable master.

Thankfully, he claimed to have such a horse to befit Urda's needs. A dappled grey mare by the name of Sweetroll. She was so tranquil, he claimed, that just a month past she was stolen by a drunk and returned herself to her pen thereafter.

"She must have walked all the way back from Hjaalmarch!" laughed the stable master, as he patted Sweetroll upon the side of her neck, "She had Deathbell petals all in her mane to show for it!"

Leander paid for Sweetroll. One thousand septims. That, combined with the money he'd donated, what he'd paid for Urda and the extra septims he spent in clothing her, this had turned out to be a very expensive trip into Riften indeed.

Once Urda was lifted into the saddle and shown where to put her feet and hold the reigns, they set off. They didn't have far to go, assured Leander, pointing to the far side of the lake.

"There is a small farmstead, just around the bend," he spoke back over his shoulder to Urda, as her and Sweetroll followed his own horse along the winding road.

Urda, he was grateful to see, had ceased weeping entirely. In fact, now she wore an odd little smile, and reached frequently to pet the mane of her mount.

"Is she really mine?"

She called eventually, and Leander turned again to nod to her and affirm, "She is yours."

From behind him, he heard Urda make a small sound of elation; and Leander found that he could not help but huff a small laugh for hearing it. Though, Urda's next query drew a frown again to his brow.

"... Are you my father now?"

Abruptly, he shook his head and glanced again to the girl.

"I am not your father."

Urda's mouth twisted strangely and she probed again, "Well... Who are you, then?"

"My name is Leander," replied Leander, and no sooner had he introduced himself, did he silently curse himself for not doing so sooner. Urda didn't even know who he was. It was a little wonder she seemed nervous of him.

The pair continued on the rest of their short ride in silence. It was early evening time by the time they reached their first destination; the small farmstead on the banks of Lake Honrich, that was the home of Leander's grandmother.