The longest week.

It was cold, She regreted not taking the offer of the padded undergarments from her brother, the beaten iron was positively icey on her skin.

After buckeling her borrowed greaves she unravelled the strip of linnen and started binding her chest.  Why her?  Why couldn't that damn reptile have taken a liking to her brother?  Or someone, ANYONE else?

She sighed, it was true, she'd spent a lot of time feeding and playing with it as a hatchling, and then riding it as it grew.  The brest and backplates were heavy.  How had he said to put them on?  Buckle the sholders first?  What about those damn ugly shoulder guards?  How did anyone MOVE in this stuff?

"Abby?  Abbigail?  Where are you?  They are waiting!"  Her brother never forgave her for being the one chosen ...  her father had walked out.

"What is it John?  It's not like this stuff was made for me!"

He walked in through the door, "Well it's just as well you fill it out in some places, you'd never survive rattling around in there otherwise!"

"Ok OK!  Just help me get this damn stuff strapped up will you?  Or they are going to be waiting a lot longer!"

"What?!  The chosen one wants MY help?"


"Ok Ok, keep your stockings on!  Here's your problem.  They are never going to buy this you know, you should have let me do it."

"Ohhh yeah, and have you get eaten by your mount, now there is an effective hero!  OWW!  Why can't I just wear a hood or something?"

"You're gonna be sis, but you gotta look like a warrior, not a kid!"

The End

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