#young ophelya knocking her brother to the ground rugby tackle style is such a mood

[biserker-kadan]

"Are you really going to let her do that?"

Eleanor watched her youngest grin toothily at her brother and the young Gilmore, wooden sword in hand and dark splatters of brown mud on her new silken dress.

Her husband had warned her, and she had paid no mind - she was regretting that now, watching as Ophelya slid across the dirt to knock her brother down with a mighty battle cry.

"I win! I win again!" She cried out, laughing gleefully as that wretched dog barreled into her and knocked her onto her back. Ophelya giggled away, arms and legs flying all over the place as 'Marby' slobbered all over her face.

"I mean honestly Eleanor, she's making such a mess. I could never allow it. My daughter would never be caught dead playing in the mud like some ruffian."

Eleanor turned her gaze to her companion. Took in the extravagant jewellery and outrageously expensive looking clothes and shoes and frowned.

Truth be told, she had no idea who this person was - just another high-born Lady expecting Bryce Cousland wife to know her.

She purses her lips, lost in thought as she took in her companions daughter, a sweet looking girl; all prim and proper standing tall with her chin held high.

She looked miserable.

For one moment, Eleanor felt an intense sadness crash over her.

Could she imagine her own girl like that? Ophelya, as rambunctious and loud as she was, just being so...still and poised, like a living doll?

Eleanor had complained over and over to Bryce about Ophelya - 'She's so much like her brother, how will she ever find a husband?'

What does it matter?

Could she be happy if her daughter was not?

Ophelya loved playing with her brother and the others. After all, she wasn't the only girl in the castle eager to pick up a sword and wave it around. Why should she be denied that?

What mother would keep her child from play?

Eleanor smiled, though her eyes were cold and lips closed. She leaned in close and whispered, "My daughter is fine just the way she is, perhaps you should not be speaking so freely and without thinking of consequences? Hmmm?"

The Lady paled.

With that and a very pointed glare, Eleanor called out, "Ophelya, Fergus, Gilmore, come along."

"But mother!" Fergus whined, sighing when Ophelya only nudged him and stomped forward, brows pulled together and the most murderous look a 7 year old can make on her face.

"It's not even lessons yet! Dad said we could play until the shadow hit the trees!" She argued, staring defiantly up at her. Eleanor smiled, open mouthed this time and pulled her into her side.

"I know, but I figured you three would be much happier having a go at it in the courtyard with the soldiers and the training dummies?"

Excited squeals and yelling followed her announcement and she laughed under her breath as she shooed them along ahead of her.

Eleanor watched out of the corner of her eye as Ophelya stopped and looked back. She smiled as spoke to the other little girl, "...and if you would like to come as well, I'm sure your mother would have no objections?"

Ophelya, always one step ahead of the others - so much like her mother - walked back and held out a hand, "It'll be really fun." She promised.

The girl spared one single glance at her mother before nodding decisively and taking Ophelya's hand with a shaky smile.

Eleanor followed the two girls down the path, both as equally excited as they rushed on ahead, talking in low tones and grinned.

Her daughter, no matter how well she was with a sword or her words, was going to rule.