Perfectly Capable

Writers: Danielle, Yvonne
Date Posted: 25th July 2006

Characters: Mariss, Benamil
Description: Mariss has to borrow a runner from Benamil at the stables
Location: Amber Hills Hold
Date: month 13, day 1 of Turn 3

Benamil

Mariss hesitated at the entrance to the stables, acutely aware of the fact that she didn't really belong. A scrawled map was tucked into the pocket of her riding jacket, and a small pack beneath one arm.
Another shipment of personal goods had come in from Amethyst Cliff Hold, and among them were a small a box and a painting belonging to one of the former seamstresses, who was now living with her husband in a small cot about a candlemark's ride up the road. Mariss had volunteered to take the things out to them herself, simply because she couldn't stand being locked up in the abominable Hold and under the accusing eyes of the understewards - and Shadux - any longer.

But at this rate, she wasn't going to go anywhere. Mariss cleared her throat, steeled herself, and stepped into the stables. "Hello?"

"Hello!" A voice called back. A moment later, Benamil emerged from one of the stalls, his arms full of tack that he'd just removed from one of the runners that had just come in. "Oh!...Er...Can I help you, miss?"

Mariss smiled even as her heart sank. Lovely - one of Lord Benamil's sons. "I'd like to borrow a runner, if I may. Just for a few candlemarks. I have a delivery for someone up the road."

"Oh...of course." Benamil set the tack down and looked back and forth between her and the runner's stalls. "I..um...suppose you know how to ride then?" Some of the hold women didn't. But then...those who didn't actively seek out the stables either.

"Of course I do." It seemed rather obvious, didn't it? Mariss reined in her temper; it was getting ridiculously easy to provoke here. But then again, being questioned every time she did anything besides-
besides embroider pillows or something- was getting irritating.
"Although I'm ashamed to admit that I can only ride astride."

His eyes actually lit up when he smiled. "Don't be ashamed- truly.
The last lady who came in here wanting to go riding wouldn't have ridden astride if her life depended on it." Now that _had_ been quite a scene. "I'll just fetch you a runner... oh...er...I don't suppose you'd want an escort?" Somehow he had the distinct feeling she didn't. He was also torn between the knowledge that he shouldn't let her go off alone, and also the fact that it wouldn't be proper if he were to just go off with her as well without some form of chaperon.... Oh the intricacies of honor!

Mariss shook her head. "No, thank you. I have a map."

"Oh." Of course she did. "Alright..." Maybe he could pretend he'd never even seen her....She'd probably approve of that plan.
"Here...how about this one? He's a pretty even tempered gelding, smart enough to keep you out of trouble, he is." And no one would miss him for a bit- except Benamil, of course. "You...um...aren't going too far are you? Sometimes the roads get a bit treacherous towards evening if you've never ridden them before."

She reached through the bars of the stall to let the runner blow gently on her fingertips. "Not far. Just a candlemark each way, maybe less. I'll be fine."

"Good. Ah...will you at least tell me which way you're going, in case you're not back say... by midafternoon?" It was still early in the morning- plenty of time to spare if she wanted to take her time and stay away from the Hold for a while- he certainly understood that. "I don't mean to...ah...be..over protective or anything," he said, not really sure what he was trying to say.

Mariss stepped back from the stall, doing her best to hide the sudden surge of anger she felt. Did women do _nothing_ on their own here?!
And it wasn't as if Amethyst Cliff Hold had been the most liberal of Holds, anyway! "I'm perfectly capable of taking myself on a ride, and of following a map," she said sharply. But her conscious kicked in as soon as the words left her mouth; Benamil, unlike most of the other Holders here, had at least phrased his worries as a question. At least he was trying. She sighed, dig the map out of her pocket, and handed it to him. "Here. This is where I'm going. I promise to get your runner back before mid-afternoon, all right?"

He'd winced at the sharp words, they stung almost as if she'd slapped him. "Thank you," he managed to say after glancing at the map. "I have no doubts that you can take care of yourself...It's just that..the land and people around here are different than what you're familiar with. It's nothing against your abilities...I...um...want you to know that." The woman would probably scare off anyone who intended her harm just by the sharpness of her tongue.

Mariss had the grace to flush, and felt a little as if she'd kicked a puppy. "I'm sorry. I- ah... things are just... different. Here. Being Holdless has me- thinking the worst of people, and it's not a pretty trait." She shrugged and picked at the bandages that still covered her hands. "If I was rude, then I apologize."

"No, no...I'm sorry for...for...well..for everything being different.
I know how...ah...frustrating this place is..." Benamil shrugged, helpless again, and flustered. "It's hard being stuck here.
Especially if you'd rather be...someplace else."

She smiled slightly. "Yes. Well... there's nothing that I or anyone can do about it save try to make the best of the situation. And I'm not ungrateful to Amber Hills Hold. None of us are."

"True spoken. And I...ah...we're happy to have you here. I mean...I'm sure Amethyst Cliff would have done the same for us, had the tables been turned."

"Of course." But she knew that Amethyst Cliff Hold would have responded with much more _grace_...

He was at a loss for words then. "I'll...ah...just saddle your runner for you..." He gathered up the tack and ducked into the stall, leaving Mariss to wander through the stable and stroke the soft noses of the runners who poked their heads out from their stalls. She enjoyed their quiet, and the way their ears pricked forward as she held her bandaged hands out toward them. But as enjoyable as it was, she was still happy to leave when Benamil led the tacked up gelding out of his stall.

Mariss came forward to take the reins. "You never told me his name."

He smiled at the question, his eyes lighting up. Not may would have even bothered to ask. "Tempest. Although his personality is the opposite of his name."

"Tempest." She let the gelding sniff her hand, then glanced at Benamil. "I do hope you're right about his personality. Thank you for your help, Benamil. I won't be late."

"I'm sure you'll be just fine." He would keep watch for her though.
But there was no need to voice certain things aloud.

Mariss smiled, then mounted without assistance. She wasn't graceful and there was a certain amount of flailing that occurred since Tempest was a little taller than what she was used to, but she was grateful that Benamil let her save face and not offer her a hand up. She brushed a few errant strands of hair out of her eyes, turned Tempest's nose toward the road, and gently kneed him into a walk. At the stable's gates she turned and found that Benamil was still watching her; she waved, then turned her back on the Hold.

Shards and shells, it was good to turn her back on the place... even if it was only for a few candlemarks.

Last updated on the July 26th 2006

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