It was the early hours of the morning and everyone at the inn was asleep.  Everyone that is, except Gwyneth.  She had been rudely awoken from a wonderful dream featuring a certain someone by dull thuds on the shutters.  She grumbled and tried to bury herself under her blankets and pillows, but the thuds only got louder.  Sighing, she climbed shivering out of her bed, slipped on some mismatched slippers and wandered sleepily over to the shutters.  She hauled the right shutter open and was nearly pelted with a medium sized rock.
“What the bloody ‘ell are you doing?”  she yelped, sending down a malicious glare through the moonlight at the offender.
“Is Aine there?”  Emlyn asked, peering up at Gwyneth’s bedraggled and extremely annoyed form.
She gave a peevish sigh, “Of course she’s here!  She’s sleepin’ like a normal person.”
“Well, wake her up.  I need t’speak with her,” Emlyn shifted his weight onto his other foot, hiding something behind his back.
“Are yeh daft?! I am not going to wake her!  She’ll maul me!”  Gwyneth exclaimed, a little too loudly, as Aine stirred and muttered in her sleep.  She smirked, “If ye need to talk to her so badly, wake her yerself.”
“I would, but I’m not up there wi’ye,” Emlyn snapped.
Gwen opened her mouth to retaliate, but hastily shut it as Aine rolled over yawning.  “What’re you doing Gwen?  Who’re you talking to?”
Gwen stuck her tongue out in Emlyn’s direction.  “You’ve got a visitor,” she told Aine, wandering back over to the pile of blankets that was her bed.
“Who?”
“A lad.”
Aine groaned and got out of her bed.  “It’s Emlyn again, in’t?”
“You’ll see,” was the muffled reply as Gwen succeeded in burying herself under her blankets once more.
Aine sighed and approached the window.  She looked down at her suitor and snorted.  Emlyn had worn his Sunday best, attempted to flatten his unruly red hair, and was holding what looked like a horseshoe in his hand.  “What d’yeh want?” she hissed.
“Will yeh come down here so I can speak wi’yeh properly?”
“Or you could come back i’ the morning, when I’m not tryin’ to sleep.”
Emlyn laughed cheerily, as though he were accepting a challenge of sorts.  “But that’d take all the fun out o’ it!”
“Out o’ what?”
“Courting you of course.”
Aine laughed and Gwen poked her head out from her pile of blankets to listen.  “If you’re trying to court me Emlyn, you’re going to have to try harder than that.  I’m not so easily won!”  Aine leaned against the windowsill, grinning smugly.  The moonlight shone down on her, illuminating the fact that she was quite clearly playing a game of extremely-near impossible-hard to get.
Gwen giggled from her corner of their shared attic room, “You aren’t going to lead him on a wild goose chase are, yeh Aine?  ‘Cause if you are, I want to watch!”
Aine winked at her, whispering from the corner of her mouth while Emlyn sputtered below, “Mayhaps I am, and mayhaps I’m not.  It depends on how much effort he puts into winning me.”
Gwen chuckled, “This aught to be interesting!”
And so began a battle of wills, Aine versus Emlyn.  The score; Aine one, Emlyn zero.  A few hours later when the sun was peeking through the slats of the hastily closed shutters Aine and Gwen crawled out of their beds grumpy and full of wicked ideas of revenge.
“That was the twelfth time Emlyn has woken us up this month!” Gwen said tripping as she pulled on a petticoat.
“Why are yeh telling me?! It’s not you he wants to see!”  Aine replied lacing up the front of her corset.
“Are yeh ever going t’actually make him do anythin’ or are yeh going to keep letting him come here at all hours of the night?” Gwen whined pulling a brush through her tangled hair.
“Well it’s not like the beauty sleep helps you much anyway,” Aine retorted.
“ ‘Ey!” Gwen squealed pulling the cords of her apron tighter around her waist.
“Yeh know I was just teasing,” Aine said, now piling her hair on top of her head making faces at herself in an old mirror of polished brass.  “And I’ll have him do something soon as I can think of something good enough!”
“Yeh could always make him clean up around here.  Heaven knows that’s task enough in itself.”  Gwen said tying her hair back in two small braids at the back of her head.
“Pfft!  That’s not good enough!  I could have one o’ the other girls do that!  It’s got to be somethin’ really embarrassing!” Aine replied.  She leaned against her bed, waiting for Gwen to finish fussing with her hair.
“Oh, it’s hopeless!”  Gwen muttered, flouncing over to Aine’s bed.  “Well, in’t he supposed to be coming over later this mornin’ with some fish?  Couldn’t we make him do somethin’ then?  What would you want to do to him?  Make him fetch something off one of the cliffs?”
“Ooh!  Maybe… Actually I’ve always thought it’d be funny to dress him as a lass one o’ the nights he’s really drunk.” Aine said, laughing.
“Pssht!  You could probably get him to do it sober!”  Gwen snorted, covering her mouth with her hand.