The dawn had broken sometime ago over the land, the soft rumble of thunder and incoming grey clouds signalling that today the rains would fall - a blessing for the farmers who had been worried for their growing crops given the last week or so had been sunny and hot. Probably one of the hottest that they had ever known. Along the cobbled roads that surrounded the farmlands and lead around and out of the city, a lone woman walked, cloaked with her blonde hair falling over one shoulder in a simple braid. Upon the crook of her arm she carried a basket filled with herbs and other plants used for her craft. Her cloak flapped slightly behind her in the breeze, and as the first droplet of rain fell, she cast her gaze to the sky with a small smile.
It was refreshing to feel the further droplets that splashed onto her skin, and the rumble of the thunder drew nearer along with more darkened cloud. Pulling her hood up and over her head, she continued her walk along the road at a leisurely pace, not caring for the weather that would ultimately soak her through. She was almost home anyway.
Turning away and up past the stables, continuing towards the walled city that was perched atop a hill, she greeted the guards that stood guarding the gates that led her to her destination. They did the same with a nod, familiar with her presence just as they had been for the years that she had come to spend there. The affiliation with her father being the main reason that they led trust in her also. He was a well respected member of the court and the town after all.
The city itself was still quiet, aside from the odd guard patrolling, the rains becoming heavier until the cobbles on the street glistened and were slick. Her pace picked up, cloak now feeling heavy and sodden with the odd strands of hair that had also become wet. She hurried up the steps to the keep that loomed over the city itself - the guards letting her in and the cold and wet being replaced with the comforting warmth of home.
The drops of rain from the bottom of her cloak left a trail behind whilst she headed for the next staircase that would bring her finally back to the rooms that she and her father both occupied.
He was already hunched over his workbench preparing tonics and remedies for those who needed them. Only did he look up on her closing the door and then shook his head. "I told you it would rain and you'd get soaked", lightly scolding her as she grinned and took her cloak off, hanging it upon a hook and then wringing her hair out. "You're making the floor a hazard".
Coming over and putting her basket onto the table, she gave him a light kiss upon the cheek. "And good morning to you too father", making in the direction of her room. "I had to get the ingredients, otherwise I can't make the poultice for Peter's leg".
"Silly boy won't do well in battle if there ever comes a day for one", Abraham Erskine now declared with a tut. "I said that the Jarl was too hasty in knighting him".
"We needed more hands, more soldiers. It's the Jarl's decision anyway". Orla now appeared again, fresh and dry with a new dress on. Looking to the fireplace, she held out her hand, fire now flaring from it and lit the logs on there.
Erskine looked over. "What have I told you about doing that?"
"Not to when anyone's around? Which they're not?" Orla replied innocently, knowing that he couldn't really say much when she'd seen him do the exact same to the water pot the other day.
He sighed. "You forget that anyone could walk in here", to which there was a knock on the door before it opened, Erskine now looking to Orla as if to say, 'see?'
"Sorry for the early morning visit Erskine but my shoulder's killing me from yesterday".
Orla looked up as she put the pot of water over the fire to boil, smiling lightly as the Jarl's son, Steve now walked in. He smirked on seeing her hair still wet. "You look like a drowned rat Orly".
"Because she didn't listen to her father - who is always right might I add - and went out to pick ingredients this morning". Erskine shuffled over to his bench, beckoning Steve to follow.
"I still make for a pretty looking drowned rat though". She threw back with amusement. It was their way to make fun of one another. Since she'd come to the city, she had spent a majority of her life growing up alongside himself and his friends. Not that she was ever meant to mix with them considering they were far above the ranks of her and her father. But he had always been kind to her, treated her no differently to how he treated others. It was the same compassion that his mother, Lady Sarah, held.
"Very". He said, almost forgetting that Erskine was stood there waiting, and then quickly cleared his throat. "So erm, yeah - this shoulder's not been doing too good from training yesterday. I just wondered whether there was a tonic or anything that you could give me to ease it?"
Erskine studied the shoulder, and then nodded to Orla who looked through her satchel and produced a small bottle - passing it to Steve. "Take it now and by this evening it should be fine, but come back if you need some more".
He took it and smiled - her heart skipping slightly. She couldn't help how she felt, or had come to as of recent. Growing up they had only ever seen one another as friends, but lately? Something had shifted, and Orla felt differently as to how she had before.
It could never happen though. As a Jarl's son and the heir to everything, Steve could never marry beneath him. Only a Lady of high standing would do, and there had been talk of a betrothal making its way around the court - even though Steve himself had said nothing about it to her.
"Thanks". He said and put it one of the pockets of his jacket. "Anyway, best not to venture out today - looks set to be a wet one".
"It's a little too late for me on that one". She smirked. "No ingredients, no remedies, and no remedies mean people are not healed. I have some rounds to make this morning anyway".
He nodded and thanked Erskine, then looking to Orla. "Have a good day", and then walking out.
Orla ignored the look that she knew her father was giving her, and began to make their breakfast. He said nothing though, knowing that currently it wasn't harming anyone - but the flirtation between them had not gone unnoticed by him, whereas it did to everyone else. Erskine had known long before his daughter had, that Steve was fond of her more than he should be. Instead he'd let it slide. His daughter was a beauty for sure - but a match like that would never come.
"It's nothing". She seemingly read his mind.
He smiled lightly. "Well it does not look like 'nothing' to me".
Orla glanced to him. "Surely you know more as to whether there's a betrothal, the Jarl trusts you with his life".
"With his life yes, with political matters? Not so much. It's not my place". He paused. "Orla...you should guard your heart when it comes to Steven, and you know you should. It will only bring you pain when the time does come for him to take a wife".
She nodded, swallowing the lump in her throat and then smiling at him even though she wanted to break and cry. "I know...but what is love without a little pain to know that it is valid".