Timothy

" It was because of the young man's charms, that she fell in love and left her family to be with him"

The plummet street of Harth is buzzing with the sound of the wet market. Voice of merchants and buyers resonated with the dirty streets. Bargaining a purchase or sling a deal. It was filled with voices with wants and needs, in the intent for betterment at each end of their bargain. It was a small fishing town in the outmost corner of Laurice.

A group of children huddles closely, by the inside the unmoving traveling wagon. Tranted with generation years of use. And seemingly incapable of its initial usage. It shows poke and tears of the cloth encapsulation it's an inner cabin. And rotten, creaking wooden panels threatening to collapse beneath their feet.

Voice looms over the wooden carriage, each bringing voices of concern and question. Regarding the statement.

One voice looms above the rest, as it regarding its listener with their concern. A young girl who seems not to have reached the age of ten held the authority in the present discussion. Urging her listener, by constantly shushing. Ever relevant to children's insolence. As her listener, who are children, both boys and girls alike, no one older than herself, refuses to listen to that so-called held authority. It was with bickering calls and name-calling, ever-present in childhood brawls. That she finally regains the presence of her audience.

" Like is said SHUT UP-" the young girl places her hand in her lavish hair. Having trouble asses control over the situation. Dressed in a hand me down, thin cloth of baker flour sack, fashioned into clothing and a pair of mismatched shoes, a fortune as regards if you live in slums. Which most citizens are barefooted.

Elie has a face said to be suited of a low Nobel woman, praise in its self is a high worth. If she would maintain their Nobel's counterpart's hygiene. Most more likely containing a luxurious amount of soaps fashioned from animal fats. Essential perfumed oils from flower, within the part of their land, is rarely to be seen or ever smell one.

If she only would wear an elegantly woven dress, with intricately detailed and finely measured to the wearer's body, and in a possession of a precious plot of land embroidered with a few finely crafted jewelry, accessory toppled with color full weirdly shapes, expensive gems stone. She would at least look the part.

In which as the young maiden regarded is a merely a boastful fashioned of wealth. No more than an empty representation of their extravagant, crude lifestyle.

"The man is a Lord, I heard."

She and the other children in her care. Had never seen a lord before, or contemplate enough to imagine, what would one looked like. But in their imagination maybe sum up to a single image; a bloated, grotesque large body, always hungry individual, fashioned with the most expensive clothes and gems in the land. With twice expression for hungry. And pious like face.

In summary, a pig wearing expensive clothing.

Harth has never seen a Nobel- a Lord before, and never contemplated to house one. It was a suburban fishing village, relative close to the kingdom of Ciel in its outermost outskirts. Closes to Laurice's family's summer house. A house by which the Laurice king's as born. Centered by both powerful families. Neither one wants to own Harth. The remaining of the few villages were disregarded by the realm. Poor enough to be disregarded for the prosperity of the realm.

The young girl's thoughts stray away, it was immediately brought back, by the urgent sounds of discussion of her audience.

" That's not true! My mother said that the girl did-not fell in love with him. But-but she was taken by him" regarded by a skinny boy with the voice of a screeching mouse.

"Yes." another one regarded,

"He had taken her to be his wife. "

" And forcible bedded her." a roar of laughter came, mostly from the boys present in the group.

Their female counterparts sneer in dismay at the other's reaction. And the apparent figure who openly disapproves of this is Elie, the leader, a female herself.

Once again the wagon itself has filed with laughter, senseless chattering, and this time quite a lot of jumping. Which in the wagon current state could not handle.

"That's Enough-" Elie's shout was cut off by a soft but attractive voice.

"Enough." It says, in a certain firmness which one would stop if one would hear.

Timothy.

Timothy came in the parted drapes of the thin cloth. He fashioned himself to enter at the front side -where the horse and the couch man would be if this wagon is still in usage. He entered exactly by the place where Elie is standing, conducting this meeting. And by this time in had interrupted her talk more times than she can count. And she can count This is Harth- where counting is hailed more than reading and writing. Counting here means survival.

She stares at Timothy in disbelief, as the latter makes way, sitting next to her makeshift pedestal. Her audience stopped by the arrival of Timothy, quietly sitting down, as he made his way beside Elie.

" You can't just barge into someone like that," Elie said looking up, eyeing Timothy in a distasteful glare.

He had interrupted Elie many times before. He always did not listen when she asked him, and would not bother to announce the present to her. And would always barge in the middle of else's talk.

His voice always made her jump, and Elie is not pleased with that.

Despite having physic of a 19 or the age closer to that. Which Elie, had politely questioned him about his age. and got a reply of "Close to that." with a condescending tone.

Timothy is quite childish and lacks the manner of a proper in a coming adult must-have. Elie knows that they are nowhere close to a Nobel or are one themselves. But it is not an excuse for oneself to act not like one.

She was always taught not to talk back or cut someone off like that.

Barbaric is the only word she could describe him. Barbaric not in a context of looks but by his action. Timothy is quite handsome in looks for his warm eyes, and a kindred smiling face. He has a very dirty hair if Elie could comprehend, inward competing-winning to her sun-dried brunet locks. Elie's thought if he would keep clean enough would surely resemble the yellow color of that of corn.

For Timothy, eyes are another matter of warmth. Contrasting its actual vibrant blue color, which reminded Elie of the cool blue waves of Harth. Timothy is only one it these parts. He not like any adult she met. His nice, crude, and a little bit outspoken at times.

Elie constantly experienced being shout at. Which is a merchant village in itself, a manner which grown by the local for your voice to be heard, you have to shout. But he kept his voice level at all cost.

" Hahaha, The Maiden and The Lad. A rather old story. Told by different people and heard by different ears." he regarded them with his open smiling face.

The children listen intently to the voice of the young man. Who had the eyes of every person from the wagon and Elie herself?

"By that, had been interpreted differently by the people of themselves." He raised his hands in an open gesture.

"It may be a story of love by which the young maiden herself falls in, willingly to the man's soft graces," Timothy said putting little pressure in his tone.

" An act of heinous crime itself, having that maiden snacked away from her family, seemly of the young man." he paused " forcing himself on her despite not feeling the same way. "

"But the different versions tell the same story. The Maiden left her family to be with the young man whether it is voluntary or not. "

Silent grew awkwardly from the children.

It was Elie that spoke up.

"You mean, that her family could be lonely."," When left with him."

"Yes, her family is lonely.",

" It is the part where the songs have missed, Timothy said. " It lacks the chivalrous act, that one wants to be said in a song,

familial love is indeed rarely depicted for a song."

Especially the song, The maiden, and the lad

that focuses on telling a journey of maiden having left family volunteer or not, to be with a lad that lives in the secluded woods. It is a romantic song if Ellie could comprehend not a familial one. That is held only the thoughts about the maiden for the lad.

Another girl voice out.

" Do you -think they may come for the her-her family to come home."

Timothy smiled

"Possibly."

"Timothy." a voice shouted in the distancing. Timothy, it continued.

The kids went up and pried open the drop cloth to looked out the shouting man.

The man wearing clothes of high quality is relatively simple at first glance. But Upon closer inspection, it is the finely sewn laces, handcrafted meticulously to fit the wearers built. An aristocrat if Elie could comprehend.

It voices out Timothy's name with urgency, as his handsome features drip with sweat, straying hair frame his face possible for the fact that the man may have been looking for Timothy for a long time. Voicing out his voice without the intent of stopping.

" Hey, Timothy! Your man is calling you home." The wagon thunder with laughter yet again. Uncontainablehis time.

Timothy gave out a huge sigh and head out of the cabin.

Elie looked at Timothy's figure as he heads toward the man.

News of Timothy having got himself a Nobel is not new at all. Elie had perceived it at least, knowing Timothy and all.

He held himself different from the other young man she has seen here in Harth. Having held himself better than the women combined in this small fishing town.

One of the boys jumped up and down and said.

"Just when Timothy got to play with us."

" We can help it, you know that he rather busy."

"From running around and all."

"Why Timothy, why can you stay longer" a younger girl cried out.

"Shut it." Elie voice out with authority.

" One time -" the screeching voice spoke up and ignored Elie. "One time, my father got Timothy to help, moving out the fishes we just caught. Despite having worked hard the whole day without complaining. Three copper -my father gave him enough to last you three days of the meal. He gave it to me. All of it. Not a single one was taken. He says to kept it a secret between the both of us."

Woah. A loud appreciation poured out from the children. The discussion that they just held turned into an open forum, of Timothy's good deeds.

"I got one also, I was in the Forrest, there to picked up wood for the fire. When I lost my way, it was also beginning to darken - I'm mean. I was so scared thinking I was gonna die, there where he found me. And lead back to my home."

Another round of applause came.

Another spoke out.

" I was playing in the ditch when I fell and sprained my feet, and their right then Timothy appeared. He lends his back for me, offering a ride in his back. There he carried me back to where my brother was. He was so nice and smelled nice too!"

"Smell nice?" Elie questioned.

" Yes, I supposed like flowers" then the applause came.

Flowers. Elie never smelled one. And surely is the same for the children around her. She had seen one displayed in a glass container behind the counter of the store owner, meticulously guarded. It looks nice but expensive. Timothy must have gotten it from that man.

Elie has a story of her own of Timothy's heroic act. Which involves one of the pair of her which matched shoes.

Timothy is nice. But saying it often is not pleasing to her ears. The children got rowdier.

"That's right, Elie." the familiar voice said.

"Your mother is looking for". Timothy said peaking out his yellow head from the parted cloth.

"And don't worry, I will be back," he said addressing all the children in a wagon. And left.

The wagon was one again filed with cheers.