Chapter Text
Kara lifted the bale of hay with ease, blowing a piece of hair that had escaped from her ponytail out of her face. The end of summer was announcing itself by the cool breeze that slipped through the long linen shirt clinched at the waist, raising a few goosebumps on her uncovered arms.
Although most of the area had broken out their wool pants and hard broiled leather, she wanted to take advantage of wearing the least she could for as long as possible.
Just like every year.
The dirt trail from the fields to the castle walls was at least half a league, but rather than lay her burden on a mule, she simply shouldered it with one arm.
Summer harvest had treated them well and she was sure they would not only have enough for their kingdom, but the others as well.
Nearing her home, animal musk, and baking meat, assaulted her nostrils first.
The sapphire colored fortress created hundreds of years ago, by Lord Alexander Danvers, had once had an official name, but once a King had visited and called it Heaven’s gate, the rest was history.
Whether because of its strategic placement that protected the easternmost part of the Realm, because of its blue walls, or because of the two towers that rose out of the ground, allowing the watchmen to see beyond the horizon, she wasn’t sure.
And she truly didn’t care.
Knowing the inner workings of the castle weren’t her concern, as Eliza had reminded her many times.
Approaching the gate, she stood tall, making sure the guards could see her over the heads of the assembled civilians, trying to make it pass.
“Make way! Come through Kara!”
Heads turned to lay eyes on Midvale’s most famous, while simultaneously trying not to be, inhabitant.
But at least it wasn’t for the reason she was trying to hide.
Being Lord Danvers bastard wasn’t the worst fate.
She was fed, clothed, given a moderate amount of leeway to do what she wanted, and treatment fairly well.
“More hay Kara? Is it for the horses or yourself?”
Flashing what she hoped was a sweet smile at the guard she shrugged, “Who knows, maybe there might be some left for the horses when I'm done.”
“You know you’re given a mule for a reason, and your father would prefer you use it. Probably some clothes so you don’t get sick either.” He snorted, “Jesus, if it wasn’t bloody impossible I’d think you were part El.”
Kara smiled but he had already turned his attention back to the line in front of him that was pushing her forward, “Me too Gary.”
The market was hectic, with merchants shouting, and villagers socializing, but she weaved her way through without a hitch.
Although her father had an open castle policy with his people, most tended to stay within the market unless they had other business.
Past the market, was a small archway which led into the more private portion of her home. On the left, the stables waited for her, while on the right, a few soldiers practiced in the training yard.
She paused for a moment to watch as Alex strung her bow and in the blink of an eye let the arrow fly. Bullseye.
Above it all, her father looked down from one of the walls walkways, with a stern look on his face.
In his black breeches and dark blue long sleeve tunic, she supposed most would find him regal.
If they hadn’t experienced him trying to re-enact the Battle for the West, with voice changes included.
She began to toss hay into each pen, chatting with the horses as she went. Besides helping in the kitchen, taking care of the animals was one of her favorite things to do.
“My lady!”
With a grin she rolled her eyes, knowing what was coming next, “I’m not a lady, what do you want?”
“Come, pick up a sword, spar with us!”
Glancing over her shoulder, her eyes swept across the assembled soldiers. Most of them were the usuals, castle guards who lived to fight, drink, and fuck, with little else on their minds. Besides challenging her to duels whenever they got the chance.
It seemed like an easy lifestyle, free of worry and responsibility.
“Or are you too scared!” Another taunted when she didn’t respond.
Throwing aside the remnants of hay and smirking, she stalked across the walk way, picking up a dulled practice sword from the rack and twirling it, “Who’s first?”
“Me,” the sharp voice caused the soldiers to scatter, and she fumbled to put the weapon back, “If you don't get your chores done.”
Compared to other stories she had heard, her father’s wife treated her well. Better than most high born bastards.
In fact, Lady Eliza Danvers had taken one look at the scruffy twelve year, dressed in rags, with a boys haircut, ordered a bath drawn, and gone back to her regular duties without an eye lash batted.
“Well my lady-”
“It wasn’t a question Kara.” Although she smiled as she said it, there was no mistaking the warning tone of her voice along with a raised eyebrow.
Kara nodded, “Yes my lady, I’ll go finish them now.”
“See that you do,” the Lady of Midvale spun towards the living quarters, walking away with her flock of hens trailing after her, “And please wear more clothes for the feast tonight.”
Kara blushed as the handmaidens giggled.
“Yes my lady!”
—–
The sun had set only minutes ago, but the servants had already lit up the entire Great Hall, shrouding it in a warm haze.
Rushing around, setting done plates and utensils, arranging the tables, she kept to her spot against the back wall as to not disturb them.
Kara pulled at her collar. The stiff knee length tunic was made of fine material, but not above her station. A dull gray, the light blue accents gave it some detail.
Her tights on the other hand were making her sweat in very uncomfortable…
Before she could blink, people started to file into the hall before it was filled to the brink.
And then it began.
One of the many knights in attendance stood at the doors, chin high, armor gleaming, as he announced the high lords and ladies.
Her father and Eliza came first, her sapphire dress matching the trimming on his white doublet.
As they took their seats on the raised dais, her half sister entered with the guest of the evening.
In his mid thirties, with a pretentious smirk on his face, it was obvious that Lord Maxwell Lord was not going to make a second trip back to Midvale.
Although her hand sat in the crook of his elbow Alex stared straight ahead, back straight, with her features set. Beside her Kara heard someone mumble about the low cut dress her half sister wore, and sent them a sharp look.
They took their seats, the visiting lord sitting on her fathers right, Alex next to him. Finally Winn, her father’s ward, walked towards the front, ignoring the semi-friendly jeers.
With the final highborn seated her father stood, “Welcome! It is always great to fill this hall with great warriors, and guests!” He gestured to the man of the evening, “Tonight we are honored by Lord Maxwell of House Lord, who has decided to oh so generously grace us with his presence.” He drawled, gaining snickers from the crowd.
“As always, times like this is where we must reflect upon how fortunate House Danvers has been, with a plentiful harvest, and strong bonds between our house and other great houses, we are truly blessed by the Gods.”
“With that said, let us feast!”
The food came out in droves, offered first to the high table before being relinquished unto the rest of the hall.
Followed by the ale.
While she knew that the Lord and Lady of Midvale, Alex, and Lord Maxwell were probably indulging in fine wine, the bitter brew was exactly what she wanted.
She stuffed her face, ignoring the jokes that came from the usual people who had watched her devour food for the past three years. For once she was actually managing to have a little fun, listening to tales from the older folk, and arguing with those her age.
The fifteen year old was almost done with a platter and into her second cup, when a hand clapped onto her shoulder, “Enjoying yourself?”
Kara stood quickly, before she was forced to grab the table to keep her balance. Blushing, she faced mirth filled eyes, “Yes my lord.”
“So it seems,” he turned to the eyes intently watching the pair, “And the rest of you, are you enjoying yourself?”
“Yes m'lord!” “Aye!”
“Good,” Lord Danvers placed his hand on her shoulder again. “As interesting as hearing about our guest's one brush with danger is, I could do with some fresh air, join me?”
“Yes my lord.”
They made their way out of the hall, efficiently moving through the passageways.
Well more so her father, with her stumbling behind him.
When they stepped outside, he didn’t stop, instead heading for the stairs. Besides a quiet groan she followed, reaching the top of the castle wall after a brief struggle.
Her father had a pensive look on his face as he stared out into the moonlit fields.
“What do you think of Lord Maxwell?”
“I haven’t met him my lord.”
“True, but you’ve heard of him and seen him, so what do you think?”
“I think if you truly wanted your daughter to marry, you wouldn’t be scraping the bottom of the barrel.” Shoot, now the ale didn’t seem like such a good idea, “I’m sorry my lord-”
He waved a hand with an easy smile on his face, “We’re alone Kara, if I didn’t want your opinion I wouldn’t ask.”
“Yes my lord.”
“And truth be told, you’re not wrong,” he sighed. “At your age I was sent to ward with Eliza's family, training to become a knight, learning how to make peace with other great houses. Sadly, that is not an option I can give your sister.”
“Why not? I’ve seen Alex fight and she’s just as good as any of our soldiers! And don’t get me started on her skill with a bow!” She implored.
“You know why Kara,” he chastised, “She is my one… true born heir, and she has to do her duty. Even if I wanted to, no other Lord or Lady in their right mind would knight her without the King’s consent. And I would rather not anger the crown.” He spit when he was finished.
Of course.
For some reason that her father had been unwilling to disclose to her, he had always held a deep disdain for the royal family.
Since she had been at Midvale not a single member of the royal family had visited, nor sent a delegate in good faith.
Intent on trying for the thousandth time to get some piece of information she opened her mouth when shouts broke out at the front gate.
“Let me through!” Her eyebrows furrowed.
She recognized that voice.
Eighteen and with shoulders the width of a tree trunk, even with blurred vision, James Olsen was easily spotted wherever he went. Especially with a handful of guards trying to pull him down.
But for once he didn’t have his usual crowd of warriors, servants, and company.
Or Clark.
Without realizing it, her feet were moving forward toward the commotion, determined to see why her half brother’s best friend had travelled hundreds of leagues alone.
“Let him go!” Her father commanded. He yanked Gary back by the collar as the other guards backed away, keeping their hands on their swords.
James fell to his knees, breathing heavily, as Kara pushed her way past the final line of people, “James?” She crouched down next to him, surprised to see a mixture of tears and weariness in his eyes.
“They know.” He hurriedly whispered.
Jeremiah gained both their attention as he crouched down beside Kara and placed a steadying hand on the young mans shoulder, “Who James?”
“Clark. They took Clark.”
For once, she shivered.