Chivalry (Arturia Pendragon x Diarmuid Ua Duibhne)

Ⅱ. Fit In

            "Not out of the woods? What's that supposed to mean?" The blonde spat, impatience flaring in her eyes.

            Scáthach furrowed her brows, "Let me put it simply for you," her sour tone made the girl flinch, "a little miss maiden pops up into your house, unannounced. And she's wearing your own clothes for heaven's sake!" That last sentence immediately caused Arturia to look down to her attire. She wore a raggedy gray shirt; it draped down to her mid-thigh. A pair of woolen trousers, which dragged past her ankles. And it seemed to be fastened by a rope. Both articles were much too large to fit, which only confirmed the earlier statement.

            The girl faced the redhead once more. She tried to let words escape her mouth in response, only remaining slack-jawed as a result. "Get what I mean, sweetie?" Said Scáthach with a smug look. This woman was clearly not one to be messed with, especially given Arturia's own condition; she nodded. "Now that's a good girl."

            The emerald-eyed demoiselle proceeded to be questioned similar to that of a game show. She could hardly answer anything, let alone with a semblance of detail; her memory was quite foggy. It was more synonymous with interrogation for the poor girl, although the woman had insisted her lightheartedness. Questions on who she was, and where she came from. Where they were, and who was responsible for causing her so much pain. Matters she couldn't possibly recall. Eventually, the group—Arturia excluded—had decided to forget what they were just talking about, and visit the town nearby.

            "Did I really need to come along?" The young lady questioned with a belligerent groan, earning her a flick to the head.

            "The more you complain, the longer we're gonna take, lass. Besides, I need only run a few errands."

            The blonde clung to Diarmuid, and begrudgingly so, as she barely had the strength to walk independently. The town was more lively than she had hoped, even if there weren't many people to begin with. There were, occasionally, some girls to trail them, and they seemed to be after Diarmuid. Even shopkeepers offered him free goods. All of their leering eyes were on him; it unsettled Arturia. He was good-looking, yes, but a crowd of ladies is a bit too much. Some of them even shot glares at the meadow-eyed girl. Nevertheless, the unwilling duo waited expectantly for Scáthach whenever she'd enter an establishment. Both remaining voiceless, looking their separate ways.

            Gravel under their feet creaked and crunched under the weight of their steps. The air was brisk, fitting well with the refreshing weather. The sun had died down after morning, now being past noon. The woman set her purchases—meats, vegetables, and spices—in a sack she brought along. Scáthach bought more than usual, as she had another mouth to feed for today. "You're awfully close to him, aren't you, miss? I can hold onto her if she's hefty, Diarmuid." The man held Arturia by the hip, and her with an arm over his shoulder. They looked all too much like a lovey-dovey couple, and the redhead was getting a kick out of it. A few of Arturia's feathers were ruffled at the Scotswoman's comment, as she hastily tried to push the noirette away, but she was quickly swept off her feet.

            "She is quite light, Scáttie." Said the man as he held her in bridal fashion, causing Scáthach to choke out laughter. Only after Diarmuid noticed her reddened face—whether of anger or embarrassment, the man hadn't a clue—did he put her down.

            The maroon woman put a hand to her chin, "Arturia is a wee lass, that's for sure. Oh," A fuse lit in her head, "that reminds me. We've ought to get you some clothes."

            A groan escaped the blonde, as she was given an armful of clothing to try. She was being dressed up like a doll, and, by extent, being brought around like a doll. The girl tried outfit after outfit, as Scáthach demanded. Dresses that made even Diarmuid stare for a second too long, and more casual outfits that hid her fair skin. She refused to try anything remotely frisky, and rightfully so. In the end, they exited the shop with only a simple blouse, loafers, and jeans, which was much to Scáthach's dismay. Diarmuid stressed that an extra set was necessary, to which Arturia disagreed. Of course, Scáthach listened to her brother, buying an extra shirt and denims. And she insisted that the blonde do not pay her back, as the woman said her company was more than a suitable payment, even after Arturia had said that she wasn't to stay for long.