Post by Rhianna Costache on Sept 11, 2010 16:29:41 GMT -6
This scene begins in the market streets,
but as play continues, it ends up in the Briar Rose Inn.
I opted to keep it all together rather than split it up...
but as play continues, it ends up in the Briar Rose Inn.
I opted to keep it all together rather than split it up...
Rhianna Costache
The caramel haired Gypsy woman was quite the traveler and seem to find herself in all sorts of different locations. She had left the fort earlier in the day with the rest of the caravan who seemed, like her, to travel back and forth between Vercovicium and Turas Lan. Once the caravan had arrived and others began to pair off to go and see about other things, Rhianna had decided to make her way to the markets to see if anything or anyone interesting could be found there. The Gypsy woman was wearing a purple skirt with fabric tied about her slender waist topped off with a white chemise covered by a matching purple bodice. The fabric tied about her pretty little head was the same of sorts about her waist... blue. There were gold coins and bells that jingled or chimed as she made her way through th streets. (d)
Connor Darokin
It had been a long, difficult journey for Connor, having done whatever he could to make the coin needed for his travels. Word had spread and he'd heard the whispers of this land, of Skye. Whispers of a place where the people who came and lived there could be more than what they'd been before if they worked hard for it. His most fervent wish would be to simply have the chance and opportunity to actually have something and someplace that was his own, rather than what he'd stolen. After arriving and finding accommodations for the night at least, he decided to acclimate himself to Turas Lan, which eventually brought him to the bustling marketplace. His form was wrapped in a modest, rust brown cloak as he walked among the vendors. Bright, striking blue eyes slid out over the crowd that he shared the area with. ~d~
Rhianna Costache
Even with the sun not yet set, and what wares the people of the market had to offer getting ready to end the long days work in a couple hours, music was heard in the background. Music that the lil Gypsy woman couldn't resist dancing to. She skipped, she twirled, she swayed her way down the paths where room allowed it. Walked and weave when it didn't. Just when she was about to start into another lil dance number, she was shoved and made to bump into the large male in the rust colored cloak. She stiffened and turned to face him. Staring up with an apologetic expression as caramel brows furrowed. "So sorry sir.. please forgive me?" (d)
Connor Darokin
Those bright eyes of his would happen to catch the movements of those nearby, as well as glimpses of those further away. In that respect, he would catch glimpses of that purple skirt swaying to the sounds of music. As the woman wearing it came nearby though, he happened to be eyeing one of the nearby stands. He blinked, his body stiffening and quickly shifting to step away from whoever had knocked into him. A single hand slid to the dagger at his waist beneath that cloak on instinct, before he stopped himself and let his eyes rest upon the figure of that gypsy. Teeth gritted together while he blinked, trying to force himself to calm. The last, nearly two decades had instilled habits and instincts that he was trying to fight against internally, such as the immediate dropping of those eyes towards the ground, making sure that he did not make eye contact with the woman. Catching this though, he tried to bring those eyes up, only to have them lower partially once more. "No forgiveness necessary, Lady. I should not have been standing in the way." Words that were not said sarcastically, but almost as though he were apologizing to her instead. ~d~
Rhianna Costache
Eyes dropped as she saw movement and knew he was going for some sort of weapon. Small hand quickly reached for his forearm to stay it, gently, showing she meant no ill will. Mysterious eyes of a luminous sea green peered back up to try and meet the fierce blue gaze of the male. If and when it was had, there was a soft shake of her head as those caramel brow arched free from the furrowing. Rhianna could sense as well as see the inner struggle, as to why or what, it would remain a mystery. It was when he lowered that cold steely gaze to the ground that her interest piqued. Why would such a large and obviously strong looking man do such? she wondered. He spoke, his voice gruff and apologetic all on their own. Her hand had remained, but now was when she withdrew it. "Do you have a name kind sir?" she asked as her head canted slightly to the right. (d)
Connor Darokin
His eyes jerked to rest upon the hand of her's that would grab his own through the cloak. The muscles of that arm would immediately flex, as though he were expecting something. There was another of those inner battles, where he would force himself to remain standing in place, rather than to shy away from that touch. He forced himself to keep his eyes locked onto her own gaze when she seemed to seek out his own, yet even that would only last for so long, before his gaze shifted back towards the ground. It was a part of him that he hated, yet with so many years of training and rules, it was hard to fall away from such habits yet. As his name was asked, that gruff voice of his came flowing freely once more, yet something about it left him seeming, subdued at the same time. "I am called Connor, Lady." His hand which had moved for the dagger, slowly released the hilt and returned to his side beneath that cloak of his. ~d~
Rhianna Costache
It was when he tensed and when his gaze met her own that she saw it. His spirit was broken while he had been molded into something else, someone that he did not know yet, whom he was may be possibly forgotten. "It is nice to meet you Conner. I'm Rhianna Costache." she offered. Her hand came up to her chest as she introduced herself before dropping back down to her side. "Do you travel alone? Have you had something to eat?" She paused a moment, realizing how she sounded. "I'm sorry, I don't mean to tax you with so many questions. I only want to help... as you look like you could use it." she added with a sweet friendly smile. Rhianna knew all about being an outsider, and all the tell tell signs were there for him. Of course, she wouldn't let on to him that she knew this, it may embarrass him or upset him further. Something that the lil caramel haired Gypsy did not wish to do. (d)
Connor Darokin
He let his eyes shift to watch as her hand moved to her chest, while she introduced herself to him. He wouldn't end up being overwhelmed by the questions, since he'd had them put before him often...it was more of the touching and the eye contact that he seemed to end up avoiding for the most part. Though as he spoke, she would find that his answers seemed to be somewhat to the point, with little, if any embellishment. "Yes, I travel alone. No, I have not yet eaten." A slight tilt of his head came to be while the woman continued to speak, offering help, which she seemed to sense he needed. A frown came over those features and those bright blue eyes quickly shifted to meet those incredible greens of the gypsy. He blinked, unsure as to how he should react. It was not something that he heard or was offered every day. "You are not taxing me...and...thank you, for the offer..." He certainly did not seem as though he were in his, 'element'. ~d~
Awendela
The marketplace was a-bustle with people like always, but Awendela was in the inn...like...well, mostly. She didn't much care for the market because the hawkers were usually shrewd, and she still did not much care for the concept of trading strange shiny things for produce. Silent unless spoken to, she was clearing empty plates from tables while Rose took care of other, more pressing business - like visitors. If she was swamped, the copper-skinned girl would step in, for she now possessed the basic linguistics to be able to do so. Moving completely silently, she did her job with ease and surprising muscle on that tiny frame.
Rhianna Costache
Rhianna watched his eyes, watched his stance, and paid very close attention to anything else that would clue her in on more about the man that towered over her. He gave his answers and she nodded before looking down a nearby alley. "I have friends we could go and sit with, people you could trust." she offered. "There, we can find food as well. Or, if you like, we could maybe go to a local Inn. What would make you feel most at ease?" she asked as a hand came to rest very gently on his forearm, almost as if it was not even there. It was a friendly touch, one meant to soothe any worry and to offer comfort. "I know of a place close by, the owner is very kind." she added with an encouraging nod of her head. (d)
Priest In The Street
Eventually, one might notice the small crowd beginning to gather in the marketplace at one of the edges. The usual hustle and bustle had quieted somewhat as various people had stopped their shopping, and even a few stall keeps had closed up, just to hear what it was all about. A rising voice carried over the assembled crowd, and it was just possible to see a head and shoulders standing up out of the crowd. Perhaps on an overturned box of some sort for additional height. The face of a young man gazed out over the crowd, with short, well trimmed dirty blond hair and piercing blue eyes. His voice rose with the motion of his hands, the left of which was clutching a black leather bound book. There was another hint to the content of the speech, that priest's collar snug around his neck. "Brothers and sisters! Wake up! Have you not heard the good word? Have you not heard of the sacrifices of the son, God's son, for our sin's?" A few shouted, that yes, they had indeed had. "But then why, brothers and sisters do you allow the unbelievers to live amongst you! Those who pray to false idols and false goods. Mohammedan's and their false prophet, twisting the word of God! The Jews, who tried to silence the words of the son!?" The hate filled tirade continued, his voice strident and rising in the crisp air. He had the ability to keep talking, even through the shouts of affirmation and disagreement with his position. But it was clear that the crowd gathering about him was mostly supportive of his accusations. "Have you not heard, of the plague striking down the faithful in Saxony? I have it on good proof, that the Jews were the one that poisoned the town wells!" A gasp came up from the crowd at the claim...some were surprised, that was crazy. But others were suspicious..those Jews were always doing strange things on strange days. The crowd grew larger, despite some people leaving in disgust.
Queen Beathag Aberdeen
A market day was a red letter day depending on who you were or what side of the proverbial fence one was posted. To some it was a chance to sell all matter of wears while for others it was a chance to be seen. People maneuvered, solitary, paired or trioed. On this market day the Lady elected to move in a trio; perhaps it could be considered more as guardsmen walked behind her if not somewhat ahead. All looked to the increase of the crowd. Gasps, cries of agreement or discontent stole her away from looking at a silversmith's work. Upturned came to be the head as she, a daughter of old ways, considered the words of one of Christ's most zealous brothers. "Should we have him quieted, madame.." inquired the Lady Heather, lips pursed in a hard line of disapproval. Her mistress said no with a shake of head "Nay, Lady Heather, let 'im have his say. Righs o' words n' assembly is nay granted only tae the nobled or people we agree with.." Her hand turned over an elegant assortment of earrings fit with garnet stone, " Ah should like tae hear it though. Come, we get closer.."Lady Heather came to the right of her, and the Lady Aimlee to the right. Old friends in a young reign. "I am glad ye did nay take the children out today, madame, this is not fit fer their ears." "Oh, my son's n' daughters will be powerful in their own right one day, who is tae say wot be fit? Tis nay fit tae m'ears still I listen." Long legged strides required the two smaller ladies to step every two to her one. At the end of the lane she came to a pause to regard the man whom sought to save them from the horrors of 'Christ-killers'. "M'ladies n' I heard ye down the lane, sir? Wot proof have ye o' the wells n' saxony. If it be sae surely it must come at once tae the Laird n' Lady o' the city!" she stepped closer, waiting. She was a woman of wealth, but it was not displayed in brazen fashion thus she might have appeared tempered by some sumptuary law or other (d)
Connor Darokin
Those eyes of his came back to rest upon the woman as she gazed to an alleyway, before mentioning that there was a place that they could go with people she said were safe. Though Connor had learned quickly that it was not always the smartest things to do. Though when she offered another option, he felt somewhat more inclined to allow a slight bit of trust forth. If he chose the place, then it would be harder for any kind of attack to come. With the fact that he had already procured a room, there would indeed be an Inn that they could go to. One where he would feel more comfortable with his belongings being nearby and more easily attainable should they be needed. He gave a slightly hesitant nod before speaking. "I mean no offense or disrespect, but...I would prefer an Inn...The Briar Rose." His reasons would not be stated, though it may seem silly to others looking in on the situation...the larger, broad shouldered male wanting accommodation for safety from the smaller Gypsy female. ~d~
Rhianna Costache
She waited to see what the large man known only as Conner would say. As she waited, shouts and cries rang out. Men, woman and children of all ages gave voice to their opinions on whether agreeing or disagreeing with the man that was perched up on a box of some sort. Those curious green eyes would turn to the direction of the growing crowd and the man standing before them all. Head canted this way and that way for a better view, but her short stature would not allow her to see him without difficulty. When Conner began to speak again, she turned her attention back to him for the moment, hand where it had lingered, was now slowly retracting."No offense is taken Conner. Nor disrespect... it is your comfort and security that matters here, not my own. For I am familiar with this place where as you are not." she replied. "Do you know the way to the Inn? We will have to make our way through the crowd there..." she said with a frown as she looked back to the preaching man. She spotted some very well off ladies as they weaved in and out, moving closer toward the man and his claims. "Are you alright with that?" she asked as she looked back to Conner. "If you don't know the way, then I can lead you there." she said with a small smile as she offered her hand out to him to take so she could lead the way. (d)
Priest In The Street
He was used to ignoring the crowd. But the appearance of the noblewoman was a problem, who put forth a rational question that seemed quite clearheaded. The crowd seemed to consider that, it was a reasonable request..certainly the authorities could solve such a problem, as they always had. Suddenly, somebody had injected logic and reason into the conversation. He however, only seemed to miss a beat before he launched back on his tirade. "That may be, but does not the Jew have power behind the scenes? Was it not the Jewish priesthood that convinced Pontius Pilate to slay the son of God? Was it not the will of the Jew moving the hand of the Pagan to do evil?" Well, that was most certainly true, and the crowd began to murmur their assent. "While I am most certain that the Lord and Lady would only have the best interests of their people at heart..." Smart there, dancing right around the idea that he was being treasonous. Of course no blame lied with them. "But who knows if that is true for all members of their....enlightened administration. Most certainly if such a conspiracy existed, they and their pagan servants would do all they could to silence those who bring the truth." He said, sweeping out his hand.
Queen Beathag Aberdeen
He put forth is ascertains with great vigor; speech making was the back bone of empire. Rhetorical arts given leave to great oratory performance could convince a populace to follow or abandon a cause. She folded her hands one over the other with definite aplomb to the gesture. Nothing was said on her part, her ladies, nor guards until the priest was through. Wry grin was her gift to his serious matter before she pulled back the hood of her cloak. Hair of harvest gold was let loose to flow, unbound in any sort of kerchief, hood, or cap. Thread through it were strings of pearls spaced with glass beads and tiny pieces of amethyst. In the crowd any number of people began to gasp. In the last several years, the advantage gained was that the Lady could appear far better than in earlier times, for some only knew her by description. For those that didn't, there was a confused amount of bowing in the simple revelations of the woman's hair! "We are bereft o' a great many Jews, father." She came closer, tone mild. She spoke like a woman, rich brogue dancing up to his ear. Or did it tempt him. God forbid,no? It wasn't her intention, she only wished to vocalize. Where was a man to caution her mute, to pull her back? "N' the ones tha' come tae Turas Lan are a peacable lot. M'wells have nay been poisoned nor m'lakes, streams, or ale barrels." This earned a laugh from some of the men. No, nothing to sour their ale. "In m'readin' n' study o' the book ye hold sir Ah find tha' the choice tae crucify yer christ was left tae a crowd, n' n' the right crowd the right words give a man power in sae much as strip it. he had many lessons tae impart, some did nay wish those lessons superior tae theirs. Alas, nay Jews with infinite power here abide either, Ah find them all quite humble, vera pious tae their ways. Though one would wonder wot ye'd say o'er the presence o' the Egyptians in our court, or other Moors. Gae nay tae the lane just yon named fer carnvail n' frivolty lest the gypsy steal yer collar." She looked up to him, "M'name is Beathag Aberdeen, will ye nay come down from yer box n' speak tae me directly, would enjoy tae know hence n' when wells in our lands be poisoned. N' yer views as well." An invitation to speak heartily .If he looked at the tall column of white throat he saw no cross, nor saints medallions. Only a necklace of pearl, and the other beneath a simple silver chain holding a beautiful silver Griffin. She did not mention the long list of what tile ensued or how the world had changed, it wasn't very humble. She had no need to glorify herself in public "Please, tellthe people tae rise tha' are bowed guard, tis quite enough." (d)
Connor Darokin
He had heard the voice of the male, calling out. Those blue eyes of Connor's turned to gaze in that direction for a moment as he heard the male rant on about all those religions that were no good, save for his own. He had heard such claims and speakers before in his life, and as he had then, it was of no consequence to him. He had been a slave. A tool of entertainment for the pleasure of the masses, from the nobles, to the common peasants, all of whom were considered better than he was. At least that's what had been beat into his head for so long. He would not blink or think twice to kill a man in the arena...yet simply the art of talking with a free person was something that would give him pause. Such would be one of the habits that Connor would have to force himself out of one day. He knew that the longer he acted as such, the more noticeable it would be that his destiny had been forced on him by whoever was his Master at the time. He looked to the hand that was offered after she spoke of the need to move through the crowd. A slight brow rose and the corner of his lip came up, before he forced the small, half smile away from his features. "Indeed, I do know the way, and the crowd is no issue." There were things he was still insecure about...but it was more about learning how to speak and meet the eyes of others, to act less of a slave when being spoken to. Of course, another of those things he needed to get used to, was not to automatically follow...which meant he would step forward, and take hold of her offered hand, though it would be him, leading, rather than her. Taking a breath as he felt the warmth of her hand, he offered a slight nod. "So, let us go then." As they came near the large group however, he slowed, mainly due to the congestion the crowd was creating as the man spoke now with a golden haired woman that was obviously a noblewoman. ~d~
Rhianna Costache
Rhianna would await his decision and any replies that would accompany it. She had expected him to refuse her hand and to follow her if he did not know the way. However, she was surprised when he did just the opposite. He did take he did know the way, he would lead her rather than have her step aside and her simply follow. The small hit of a smile granted to her by the man soon had her beaming like a star in the night sky! It was progress and likely a very huge step for him. She would let him lead her to and through the crowd, taking mental notes of what was being said between those gathered as she and Conner passed them by. Wait! Was that the Queen of these lands?! She had never seen the woman but had heard of her fabled beauty and height in her ripe age. She was a very lovely vision and suddenly she wondered if her words were as sharp as the woman's mind. At least, from hear say. She seem to resist just enough to slow them down as that she could look upon the Queen and see her with her very eyes before a glance was then given to the priest. For here was a Gypsy woman... would she steal his collar? No. Not all Gypsies and their Caravans were bad people. It was like a barrel of apples, one rotten apple seem to spoil it all. (d)
Priest In The Street
A slight tightening of his jaw revealed a slight flash of anger. Was it directed at her, at that revealing of the hair? Or at perhaps the bowing, or the reason for that bowing. But it was gone rather quickly, he made no comment to the bowing, no matter how it seemed to irk him. Needles to say, there was no bowing from that overturned fruit crate. "It was left to a crowd...a crowd of Jews." Well that just made a huge difference, didn't it? Obviously so! "Perhaps, but they seem meek and humble to one not skilled in rooting out subterfuge! After all, so many are moneylenders and involved with the movement of large amounts of money...certainly that is suspicious in and of itself, and when combined with their naturally untrustworthy nature." He said, with a small tug at the edge of his lip, a hint of a smile. "I have already spoken to the dangers of Mohammedanism, and the belief and worship of a false prophet." He said, before he waved his hand around. "And if a person can be persuaded to believe in a false prophet, what else might they be persuaded to do?" It was a not so subtle casting of blame for all sorts of things. He was good at that. Blame, but never really direct blame. Now, the next time somebody drank water and got sick, or even worse...there was an outbreak of some waterborne disease it might be impossible to make the Christian populace see sense. Or any other thing that might be easily blamed upon another..which was just about anything. "Of course, we must do our best to help the misguided see the error of thier ways, and come to the light of the Lord. Please, lead the way and I will tell you all that I have learned of nefarious plots. Go with God, all of you." He said, as he clamored down from the box, looking towards the woman with what might be described as a slightly haughty look, stooping to speak with what appeared to be a pagan. After all, no good Christian woman would speak in such a manner!
Queen Beathag Aberdeen
"And there were no others in the Holy Land at this time, sir, save Jews? Hmm. Tis a quandary tha' nay age will solve Ah wager," said she of the un hooded, revealed, pearl strung hair. He needn't bow at all to her. Some in the crowd found this a fact of no relish - this was the Lady of the Isles, Queen of the Isles? By whatever name you called her, Queen of Scotland and England, of Skye! Lady Protector of Wales and Ireland, Lady Griffin! He wasn't prone to lore so needn't behave so. Ladies Heather and Aimlee wore crosses. What then were good Christian women doing tending this golden haired giantess, this jezebel of a new age? "Mohammedanism..hmm. Ah've ne'er heard o' such, but the belief in false witness be privy tae all faiths, as m'studies thus show. Ah've taken an interest in holy books in these last years o' m'life since ascendin near the age o' n' crossin thus untae forty. Tae each his own I say n' counter, unless he sacrifices children or sheds such blood as old rite require. Nay, m'thinks we may be a little bettr off than tha'. M'household certainly makes nay prolific blood pacts with devils n' demons." Then on the topic of money "Twould stand tha' a king or any such man whom reigns may take better care as tae exchange good for money less than findin ways tae take such aid from a money lender n' make a debt he can nay repay. Sae then is this fault o' a Jew are those who can nay count n' keep a good coffer? N' each age a faith reigns dominant, and someone always seems tae be the lesser. Now tis the Christ Child's age, where in some time the Muslim was above him, n' the ancients saw the Jews a kingdom untae themselves after a time, yet they always seem rather oppressed. " Might God lead the way and grant the man a new fruit box? She chuckled a little as he finally descended down to meet her, all six feet with an additional inch or so of Scotts-Norse lineage. "Sae then, nefarious plots. Should like tae listen close tae such. N' m'travel on' the continent sea when tradin tis prolific in inspires laws against such. Will ye walk, sir? Ah might purchase thus a bible from one o' the printers.." Printers? Heathens indeed, taking God's word from holy authority to be distributed among the people in common language. Why then it was no wonder so many were misguided no? So many lost sheep to save "Ah've nay had m'bible's study fer the day." (d)
Connor Darokin
It did seem and feel odd to have her hand in his, to be the one leading, rather than the one following. Even when the Arena slaves were rewarded it was in the pits and cages that they lived in. So there had not been much leading involved throughout Connor's life. He had come to the realization, that to pass, even in the slightest bit, as something other than a slave, he had to go against what came natural and was forced into him...and that meant to lead, to hold the hand of a free woman, something that could have gotten him executed in the lands he'd spent so long in. He felt the slight pull as Rhianna slowed, causing him to end up slowing as well and turn his attention and gaze back to the woman and the Christian priest as they spoke. He allowed himself a single quick look over the noblewoman, before he looked away from her once again. It was simple really, as all attention seemed to be presented upon the woman and the priest, which was fine for him. A pause was made and he and the Gypsy would listen in with the rest of the crowd Warriors Rhythm: for the time being. ~d~
Rhianna Costache
It was people like the priest that made her kind become the black sheep they were. Just by word of mouth, people could gain a bad reputation. Just by word of mouth, lives were destroyed, and while this annoyed Rhianna very much, she fought against that urge to grab up a clump of dirt and fling it toward the so called holy man. What Rhianna didn't understand was, if Christians were suppose to be good people, suppose to accept people no matter what, even if it meant their lifestyles were wrong, depending on who looked at it. That while trying to teach others of their ways, rather than force it, like she had seen so many times, let a choice be made and move along. She let her eyes linger on the Queen and Priest before she quit the with resisting and moved along more willingly and freely with Conner as he lead her by the hand to the Inn he spoke of once he was ready to be on the move again. For now, the gold coins and tiny bells were silent. (d)
Galen Vasilios
These lands were not forgotten but they were buried away in a distant memory. Galen hadn't set foot on these shores in years, much like the tides he came and went, something he inherited from his birth Father. The ocean swirled with marine life, the fish bustling about with nothing more than a nanosecond of thought. If only life was as simple as swimming amongst the foam and Conch shells. Galen had become a man of sea, following the winds without so much a care in the world. But his face displayed a look of indifference, inside though he was yearning to be back home and see the men and women who once raised him. Galen had struck a deal with a local fisherman who traveled back and forth between ports, a few coins was enough to ensure his way. The velvet pouch was offered to the withered old man before Galen departed, stepping off of the boat and onto the dock with a more than nervous smile. Grinning always helped right? Nah, it just made people look more stupid and suspicious than they really were. Golden curls eased into his gaze, those brilliant blues blinking harshly against the dying sun. "Thank you, Sir..." He mumbled softly, deep vocals rumbling forth as he bid the other Adieu.
Queen Beathag Aberdeen
On the subject of God, Beathag and the priest reached an impasse. Each holding a copy of the holy work of the God in his hand, none could say what value Old or New Testaments had in a world so grievously secular that she would leave priest no doubt standing amay. On the whole, she hoped for more dialogue again. In her later years her mind expanded with no sign of stopping; Turas Lan fed her ever-increasing want to know of the world in which she now ruled. A bible was exchanged for a copy of history of the continent as seen from the perspective of a man some twenty-years hence agone. Did perspectives change? Twenty years ago her life was a shadow. She didn't know how deeply her lineage touched Skye, nor anything beyond her two hands carving survival. Now, silk velvet dress in deep gray shade was kicked up to float after sure strides of feet in gray leather boots. One might dress the woman in sumptuous attire, pearls and silver. One might ordain her, yet the scars that carved out the possibility of the reign could still be seen if you knew where to look. As she read she looked up, her entourage of ladies and guards passing a young man "Pardon m'lord," she offered as the company went by him, yet she lingered. Head turned over a slightly exposed shoulder, viewing him over the pale fading edge of a whipping scar (d)
Galen Vasilios
His heart was thrumming heavily in his chest. It was as if his nerves were nothing more than a musician's finger tips, strumming madly against the strings of that feverish organ. Galen's eyes flitted over the market's many carts and various buildings, he was trying to put names to forgotten faces. His memory was almost as sloshy as the tides and it frustrated him. His stomach nearly bounded in his chest as the voice of someone very familiar slithered into the tender shells of his ears. Bess? A brow quirked and his pace slowed till his body became suspended in animation. Blonde curls gifted his face with a shadow as he canted his head to the side. "M'Lord? I don't think I am worthy of such a title. Lords do not cast their shadows into the depths of seashells. Especially not ones who are quite fond of crabs..." This was something only Bess knew and if it were the correct person, if his memory had not failed him, she would understand. And if this woman of stature was not from his past, well then he would just look like a loon. But her scars....those eyes. It had to be her! He could not mistake her voice.
Queen Beathag Aberdeen
Memory served the young man well. There was only one woman so tall, so lived in her skin that viewed the world with an intense green stare. The ladies-in-waiting remained still beside the guards; when the woman was intrigued nothing went on except what she deemed fit to see. Sunlight was slipping down into the twilight. Orange was being exchanged for fire infused purple, the darker side of blue. In the transition of nature she viewed him with silence until she made dawn rise again in her smile. "It can nay be," she whispered, coming closer with a tilt of head. She laughed, a great rich sound. "Nay...not the boy whom m'son favored sae among all his older playmates who would cast crabs intae cups n' jars tae hold as pets until the end of day on the shore? This is nay a boy..but a man before me." She put her hands on his shoulders. No doubt he was a few inches taller than her now where he used to come to just her middle! "Is it Galen? It must be, fer only tha' small boy from Avaria was sae fond o' sea things. Lookin fer mermaids..tellin m'Edme about them" Like the General who had held her when her world broke at the sight of her dead infant daughter, Galen celebrate the girl as she lived. She could see her now, just a little over a year, enraptured at his tales. "Mmmm..welcome home then, boy. Welcome home." (d)
Galen Vasilios
The scent of the sea was strong upon his flesh, the golden tan from the sun's warm rays infused into his bones. Galen had subconsciously taken on the traits of both of his Fathers. Physically he looked like Pere but mentally his brain had warped into the mind set of Maahes. But some habits die hard and in his blood ran the need for adventure. Galen had come to accept this and with doing so his heart lightened. Bess' voice was rich upon his ears, her laughter full bodied and rich like a glass of fine wine. Her excitement slithered into his own frame as she touched his shoulders, his chest rising and falling with ebbing anxiety. Her touch was familiar and comforting to the restless soul of a boy once lost."Aye, tis me. Spat back from the depths of the ocean." A smile flashed upon his face, those dimpled cheeks brightening with a soft blush as he dipped his head. Curls bounced and brushed against the curvature of his features. He stood much taller now, remembering quite vividly when he barely reached her waist. At the mentioning of her son, he couldn't help but chuckle. But the words welcome home struck a cord in his chest and for a moment his breathing hitched. "Thank, yeh " A soft mumble escaped. After all this time...he was welcomed back with open arms.
Queen Beathag Aberdeen
The progression of life placed her an ordained, sanctified state head but some things never changed. Salt ridden flesh resonated in a soul remembering what it was to sleep, rocked by ocean waves. When the world was harsh she escaped to the shores by route of her private paths from the Griffin Gardens through what was carved in the hills. This child had been a product of two men, one by blood, one by affection. She felt radiating from him the stark stillness of Egyptian but he smelled like, lived like the man who sailed in her Navy. Years passed by, but some things never changed. Maternal hands held both his cheeks before she put her arms around him "Yer welcome, though tis nay needed m'boy, nay at all." She smelled of the land; rich heather troves, bluebells, the salted wind in the trees over moor grass. Iron tang of blood left her flesh long ago as the fight was continued with the potent power of excellent word and the advantage of the mind. Adam had not been amiss to use that power, one now cultivated in his wife. Welcoming Galen was no different than welcoming any of the children of court who became no less than her own sons or daughters, nieces and nephews. This boy was now a man. A living testament to the new generation turning over once more. "Say ye will walk with me?" (d)
Galen Vasilios
Lashes surrounded those oceanic hues as he fell into her embrace, cheeks heated by the touch of her calloused digits. Much history was etched into her flesh but the gentleness of her soul still remained. He admired her strength for had more than once succumbed to the burden of the heart and spirit. The sweet smell of tilled soil slithered into his nostrils, the softness of her hair surrounding his face as he too wrapped is arms around her. To weep would be out of character for him but the up rise of emotion was enough to sting his eyes. His chest swelled with pride when Bess had asked him to walk with her but the question was, could he keep himself from stumbling? Old lands became new again as bright eyes grew gentler with the reminder of his heritage. " Aye...." An arm had extended itself to Bess, that appendage bent at the crook of his elbow for her to take if she wished it. " Ye were always like a mother tae me, Bess..." His voice still held a quiet tone to it despite the deepness of sea stained vocals. " I never stopped thinkin' of this place, even when the sea had swept me so far from these lands..." He mused with a fondess.
Queen Beathag Aberdeen
One day, one day all too soon when Aodhan had left her care to see the world would he return to her this way? Open arms for a love grown from a mother's kindness? The years were gentle to the face of the woman who held him, for she looked no different! If it weren't for the laugh lines at the side of her eyes, a small crease by the mouth who would know if 'ere she aged. In his youth she began her climb, merely the Duchess in the service of a King who sat on yon distant shore. Unknowingly, he walked with the Queen. She'd grown as he had. "Ye warm m'heart tae say tha', Galen. It means ye found a home here n' somethin worth comin' back tae, eventually the waves always put ye feet ashore somewhere. I always used tae say I hoped m'boots would settle where m'soul could anchor. Sae where have ye been, wot have ye seen? Nay doubt adventures done, a lass' heart a'taken hmm?" The ladies-in-waiting settled several paces behind Beathag to give her privacy, the men doing the same as they settled to guard around the exterior. "Wot think ye o' Turas Lan, has it changed much since ye last saw her?" (d)
Galen Vasilios
Aodhan, he was wondering what had become of that boy. He could remember fondly catching crabs in the midst of the summer sun, forcing their tiny bodies into jars without remorse. Galen had learned about life and death from a young age had made it rather easy for him to explain it to the other boy when their poor pets had passed on. Adventures were abundant with this boy, mostly all of his tales were made up at the time and he was more than happy to share and it made it mirth with his smaller counterpart. But now his fantasies had become his reality, minus a few mermaids and fairies. Galen lightly gnawed on the inside of his cheek as he soaked in all of her questions. It was a lot to digest but nonetheless he was grateful for her attention. She certainly hadn't aged a bit but the idea of royalty beyond the notion of a duchess eluded him. " I've always considered this place m'home. But m'heart was dark enough tae cast a shadow upon M'mind. I could not accept M'self fer who I was, Peregrine's son. Among other burden's o' a child forgotten by th'world." Scarred shoulders tensed a bit but laughter soon followed at the mention of a lass.: " I nay have a lass, but I 'ave broken many 'earts..." He playfully mused, a twinkle so to speak in his eye. " I've been near Th'coasts o' tae oriental....workin' on various ships fer trade..." Another chuckle rolled forth. " Aye, it 'as..but th'faces are tae same...."
Queen Beathag Aberdeen
"All the way tae the orient..sae far m'boy has traveled. Ye've been as one of m'own children, if nay less than m'own nephew sae close the court is. Yer heart had much tae mend from Galen. All of our hearts.." The Queen mused, touching the edge of her fingers that were set over his arm with the opposite set. They adjoined for an instant before she let the un held hand come to her side, "Long lived shadows beyond our worst eventide's, but ye learn tae let the dawn in? Ah'm glad. Ah'm vera glad. Tis hard tae look on the day in the oriental, n' the Mediterranean without smilin in warmth like the spice sweet, citrus air.Ye are yer own man, n' wot is forgotten in ye lives the best traits o' a son, surely. Ah think e'en those yer elder make horrific mistakes. Aye, ye are good man..m'heart tells me this as well as m'eyes. Broken hearts? Oh my, a trail from the oriental back tae Scotland aye? " She laughed as they walked through the market place among the intersection of worlds both had seen and the world that was. Imported spices clashed with fish from rivers and the sea. Fresh baked breads bartered for place with distant silks. (d)
Connor Darokin
He had seemed to stand there in a slight daze, watching everything around him with a close eye. He was quite controversial to himself. He was trying to be independent, to act as a free man, but he had escaped, leaving bodies behind that would no doubt cause him to be sought for by someone. It was another reason that he wanted to be in Skye, rather than anywhere else. He'd heard rumors, which he hoped to eventually be proven true. For now though, as his thoughts returned to the here and now, he glanced back to the hand of his that was holding that of the smaller framed Gypsy, before letting his gaze return to her, making sure she was ready to continue on as well. With no resistance being offered, then he would continue on their course for the Briar Rose, where he'd acquired a room for that night at least. It didn't hurt that he simply felt more comfortable being nearby his possessions and those weapons of his he decided to leave in his room. He didn't want to draw too much attention. So far, the attention he'd drawn certainly wasn't turning out to be the worst in the world at all. "Here we are." As they came to the Inn he automatically opened the door, and awaited Rhianna's entrance before he would follow along behind her now. ~d~
Rhianna Costache
Rhianna stood just as still and just as silent as the rest, unlike those that were now fussing amongst each other about the priest's views and opinions. As she looked at all those around her, she realized that the Lady Queen had moved on and when she tried to search her out, found her to be with some young man. There was a slight pull on her hand, an indication to her from Conner that he was ready to get going again and so she went along of course. Wanting to make sure he was helped, just as she said she'd see to and that meant seeing he got food at the Inn he was staying at. As they were in motion once more, coins clanked and bells rang. Even though there was no intentional rhythm they seem to do so all on their own. When they reached the Inn, she hadn't expected Conner to open and hold the door for her as so she could enter first, but she did do just that. The lil caramel haired Gypsy almost seem to dance right on in and rather than pick a place to sit, waited for her new friend to do the honors. (d)
Galen Vasilios
" Yer Boy? Aodhan?" : Galen's voice raised just a bit in belated excitement. Perhaps, she was a mind reader? Or just a Mother longing to see her son again. Brilliant blues lowered to half mass as he felt her fingers swarm over the curve of his arm, tightening the material of his tunic. Bess was wise beyond her years, he never denied that fact as a child but now he was actually appreciative of her words. Laugh lines, worry lines they all attributed to life experiences. Every ounce of pain harbored and the given pleasures of love, converged into one solid foundation to form the face of a Beautiful Queen. His breast rose and fell as they walked through the streets, the scents of freshly caught fish and warmed spices were enough to cause his stomach to growl. The sea could be as gentle as a scorpion sometimes and even though Galen enjoyed the ocean, his stomach still protested against the unusual rocking. He hadn't eaten since the wee hours of the morning and his belly was finally extending it's calling card to the world. The set of digits not resting atop her hand washed over his gut to quiet it's not so humble musings.: " Pardon the intrusion, Bess. I was nay expecting a third party to enter our conversation..." : He chuckled softly before shaking his head, trying to get back to his previous thought.: " Indeed, I am now M'own man. Feels good to have a lighter 'eart. Yer words are never truer, t'ough I doubt M'trail o' broken 'earts would be so bold as tae follow m'here. I am long forgotten in their eyes by now..."
Queen Beathag Aberdeen
A mother with one son could not help but mention the other "He be eleven, twelve in the Beltane o' the next year. Comes up near under m'arms now, if ye've heard mention o' the Black Prince, twould be him. Skin as dark as night n' brown as earth like his father, m'eyes they say.He has taken tae his lessons with great vigor. Wishes tae be a knight. One time ye must meet m'other children." Many things were conquered, many things that were true were untrue by grace as her barren womb produced no less than four children in her marriage with Adam. "He will be sae happy tae see ye, boy has a memory miles long." How could his stomach not growl? A man that large with a life that lived was bound to crave nourishment. The 'third party' earned a laugh as she patted the stomach "Come, lets feed tha' guest! Tae the Briar, a son o' the Queen must eat like a prince, n' Rose has ne'er failed us yet. Oh tha' string o' hearts ye ne'er know, if Ah see a lovelorn girl promise ah dun know anythin." She winked with a saucy air about her as their path went along winding toward the fabled inn. Every city had its battles for dominance among business. Always would the Bannockburn and the Briar Rose go forth. Whom had finer drinks, better food? Which atmosphere, boisterous men or the comforts of home did a citizen prefer? If only they knew that when his daughters could not cook Charlie McSween sent for food from Rose, whilst Rose patroned Charlie for his drinks! If only people knew, that soon the pair would be wed so the rivalry might be solved! "Dear me, wot will the young women o' the land n' court dae now. M'ignorance will simply have tae be acceptable." She teased him, for he'd turned into a fetching young man. Lady Aimlee was nearest his age and giggled as Lady Heather, a few years older only shook her head. A giggling fool was accompanying her majesty. (d)
Connor Darokin
Walking into the Inn, bright blues waited for a moment to watch as she paused, seeming to wait for him to pick a place for them to sit. So, he would not keep her waiting too terribly long at all, and with a turn, he led them towards a nearby empty table. He didn't particularly care if it was near a wall or in the middle of the room. Sitting down, he glanced towards one of the barmaids and motioned that they were looking to order something. When she came over, he spoke up on what he wanted. "A mug of honey mead and whatever you have ready to eat." Special, regular, whatever they had in the back for lunch or dinner was fine for him. And would generally be better than what he was normally used to no doubt. He then waited for Rhianna to order as well, and when the waitress walked away, he turned his attention back towards the lovely gypsy he'd managed to come across. "Do you make it a regular habit of offering strangers such as you have offered me?" ~d~
Rhianna Costache
As she waited for him to pick a place to sit, she let her sea green eyes take to surveying the room. Nope, no familiar faces yet. She thought to herself. She saw movement from the corner of her eyes and he had obviously chosen a place for them to sit, leading her away from the door. As she settled into the chair, she looked up to see he was waiting for a maid to come along. When it was her turn, she smiled. "I'll have the same." said with a nod. The woman walked off and Rhi looked to Conner. At his question, she smiled and chuckled. "Well, not everyone... just those that I feel need it most and know they won't hurt me." she replied. (d)
Galen Vasilios
" Eleven? By the Gods 'e 'as grown. I remember when 'e wus smaller than I. An' I was nay a large boy in M'youth...." : Spoken like he was decades older than a man in his prime. Hardship crippled his mind instead of his bones, but he was not so calloused as to resist the charms of a woman or the touch of a parents hand.: " I bet 'e 'as yer personality, Bess. I would love tae see 'im again. I 'ave many tales fer 'im tae 'ear. Does 'e still fancy crabs an' seashells?" :If not he was pretty sure he could force the notion of the sea back onto the Boy.: " A knight...mmm. I remember I once picked up tae sword in 'opes of acheivin' knighthood. I never could cut it as a warrior. Try as I might tae 'old up a sword, I always faltered in M'steps. But I eventually learned well under M'Father." : At the Mention of Maahes his insides clenched and he looked away slightly.: " 'ow is, Maahes...." : His voice cracked as if the moisture had all been drained from the walls of his throat. Her hand fell against his stomach and the rumble only quieted some, perhaps the sadness had morphed his hunger into more of a nagging sensation. Less importance it seemed. The talk of broken hearts and women had all faded, even though Bess had joked about such things. He had fallen silent, eyes heavy with remorse.
Queen Beathag Aberdeen
"Aye he has grown,nay ye were sae thin, like a whip. Now ye've thickened out some. Wanted tae feed ye all the time," a mother's solution for everything no doubt, "oh aye, he does. M'thinks he's o' a gentler disposition, his father was a calm man n' Adam's influence these years gives him great humor, but there is much o' me there still. Twas him n' Ah n' the early years. Just him n' ah." Some of the finest years of her life when she held him on her chest - the miracle that never should have been from a scar ravaged body - her hope, her every prayer. True it was a repeated event, but he came to her when she had no hope of any, did not think on any. "He's vera keen tae the shore, still has ship legs. Ah think he's seen a few things tha' make it harder fer him tae accept it." He worried if he sailed the kingdom would be left to dismay. Keen was the memory of the boy as him and his mother watched Turas Lan burn at distance in the siege of 1329. Oh god how it had broke his heart to bob on the water and not touch the soil. The conversation went on as they came nigh to the Rose's doorstep before he faulted. As the talk turned to Maahes she too grew silent. "Ye need tae love him, Galen. His heart is broken, twill cripple him. Ah hardly see him these days since the passin' o' his wife." Throat closed around a moment of grief. "Her vessel had sank, the story is long n' nay one tha fills me with any sort o' gladness tae tell. Rememberin her honor n' humor yes..but." It only made her mad at Adam all over again - Ealora had been a strange light dancing in their lives until the day it became to erratic to watch with mortal eyes. She was a comet with no cosmic tether, falling headlong from heaven. "Yer father has quite the family now, n' will need a hand tae remind him tha' life is nay done. They had fallen out and 'ere parted ways before her absence." Not everything was as joyous as a reunion. Many were the troubles of a court still young in the world (d)
Connor Darokin
By this time, he had grown somewhat accustomed to looking upon Rhianna's features, and used to the fact that it was permissible, so those blues of his would meet those incredible greens of her own, just now admiring them, as he'd only looked into them for a moment in the marketplace. He let his eyes narrow slightly at her words, and the corners of those lips curled just the slightest bit, showing the hint of mischievousness there. "And who's to say that I would not harm you?" A single brow rose up in curiousity as to what made her trust him so easily. About that time, the barmaid returned once more, bringing them both their mugs of honey mead as well as their food and setting them down on the table in front of them. When she walked away again, he reached out and took hold of the mug to raise it up and take a small drink of the cool, sweetly alcoholic beverage. ~d~
Rhianna Costache
Rhianna sat back in her chair and gazed across the table to the man that sat before her. He was an odd one, but not entirely unique in the way of his actions. She had seen his kind before, had heard about them as well. Men with broken spirits in search of who they once were or wish to be. With the narrowing of his eyes however, she canted her heard a little. That hint of mischievousness was noted in the curl of his lips as he posed his question. "I know these things... I'm a Gypsy woman. We have the ability to ..well, lots of things." she replied with an arch of a caramel colored brow. She to seem to be smirking, even if for only a moment. Though, arms came to cross over her chest in a soft fluid motion as she leaned forward and onto the table. "But... its in your eyes... your eyes give you away." she said with a bit more seriousness, though not cold or harsh. Soft and matter of fact. There food and drinks arrived, only for Rhi to reach down into a slit of her skirt and pull out a small bag of coins to hand to the woman under the table and out of his sight. She was seeing to this... all of this. After which, she looked to Conner sweetly and lifted her own mug. (d)
Galen Vasilios
Golden brows that were once perched high upon his forehead had now lowered into a disquieting furrow. His Father's wife had died? The last time he was here the woman was pregnant and ready to burst at any moment. The thought of Maahes a former shell of himself had his stomach in knots. The man was so proud, so strong! Galen had never seen him withered down into nothing more than feverish apparitions. Love, he needed to love him. Galen's breast cinched over the span of his lungs and he bowed his head in silent prayer. Ealora had also welcomed him with open arms, treating as one of her own and now she was gone.: " I am sorry...fer everyones loss. She was a kind woman tae me, even our meetin' wus short. I will try M'best tae be th'pillar o'strength fer M'Father...." : Maahes had always been there for him, now it was his turn to return the favor of kinship.: " I owe it tae 'im, fer all tae 'ell I put 'im t'rough. I leave without word an' come back upon the winds." :He shook his head, fingers spanning over the curvature of his mouth to hide his frown.: " An' wut o' Peregrine?" : Galen refused to still call him Father but a more kind hearted ideal was now tact onto the man's name. It took him forever to forgive him for abandoning him and his Mother in their time of need. Still his heart ached but he smiled more than brooded now. As the approached the Inn, a hand snuck out to open the door, opening it for her before following.
Queen Beathag Aberdeen
"Ye had tae live a life n' find yourself, he knows this fer his journey was much the same. Do nay be sorry, nor take a fault fer somethin ye didn't dae. Few hearts in this life are as pure as yers, lad." Artisan fingers formed a curve for hand to cup his face. In quiet they felt the same pain - Maahes was a Lion, their lion. A wounded beast roared in the woods with none but his own echoes to comfort him. Of Peregrine, she thought this news might stun Galen to disbelief, "He is wed tae one o' m'chief ladies in the household, Rosalind. He is home fer the season with his family, her son Aldric n' the daughter they have taegether, Apollonia. Tis nay need tae say whom the child was named for." Peregrine considered Apollo his brother to this very day."Time changes many things." She nodded a thank you as he opened the door for her. If he let it swing back the guards in the back would catch it for the other ladies who always understood the difference in their sovereign these years when it came to family. All of them held one another, laughed, and embraced. Once inside the Briar Rose the owner herself came to greet them as she did each important guest. With the boy's golden head of hair he could have easily been mistaken for Beathag's son! Some said that Aodhan was the Lord General's son, because of the black flesh, for it was hard to accept she had a life before her years in Skye. "Thank ye Rose, a table by the fire, n' plenty o' food fer the young man, he is home again after a long time away." (d)
Connor Darokin
Brows rose slightly at her remark that as a Gypsy, she knew things, and then halted before she was going to say something else. The raising of those brows, would end up shifting down however as she continued on, speaking of his eyes and how they had given him away that he would not end up harming her. He slid his gaze away from her and down to his food for a moment as he went to take a bite. During that time, he would end up failing to notice the fact that his eating companion slid that coin to the hand of the barmaid before she went off again. After chewing sufficiently and swallowing his food, he brought his eyes back to her, studying her silently for another moment before he spoke up once more. "Sometimes the eyes can lie, if the person is good enough." He, however, was good, when he was enslaved. He was dealing with a whole new world now, and it was just a tad bit harder to hide those eyes as he tried to acclimate himself to a huge change like this. ~d~
Rhianna Costache
"I didn't say that as a complaint Conner... its a compliment. It means there is still a part of the old you that is hidden deep inside. It means, that despite your being a man of strength, of power, and of smarts, you are still mortal. There is nothing wrong with that." said the lil Gypsy to the warrior. Rhianna would then turn her attention to her drink once more before setting aside the mug and taking up the utensil as to partake of her food. A couple were had before he would speak in response to her previous comment. "Indeed they can, but the question one has to ask their self is...not whether if those eyes are lying... but why?" Drink was taken up once more with both hands. A couple swallows followed to wash down the bites of the hearty meal. (d)
