A Search for Flowers In Winter.... (Open)

[Deva Rose Cowen]

Continued from:They Arrive


Deva Cowen

She slipped quietly down the stairs of the Inn her steps light as she moved through the sleeping corridors. She made her way to the Kitchen first grabbing some bread and fresh milk that Cook had set out for her then she slipped out the doors and into the early morning streets of this new place. The Lady wanted fresh flowers. How on earth she was supposed to find fresh flowers in the middle of winter she was not so certain but she had to at least try. She pulled her over sized thin cloak around her tiny frame and made her way down the street in hopes of finding someone selling what she needed. (d)


Breanna Keelan

It was another day, another hour. Another free-wheeling system to perform for tasks before the earning of a Griffin dollar. So it wasn't as free as all of that but whatever circumstances were against the grain of goodly cheer, they never made it to Breanna's face. All along the streets in the early hours were people trying to make their way before a prayer or another thing called them back inside for the supper hour in the middle of the day. What was she selling, what fantastic wears? For once she was not in the heart of expectation but dead set against the grain where she was posed on the streets of the common vendor. For her offerings today were jewelry, necklackes, braclets, earings and other charms. For today, her clothing was not so outlandish as to invoke suspicion on principal but enough to evoke desire to learn why in a world of maudlin earthtones she was a riot of yellow in the middle of winter (d)

Deva Cowen

It was the bright colors that drew her attention, she made her way across the street to the opposite walk and stopped just before the vendor... Only to realize it was jewelry and trinkents she was selling and then she realized it was the woman she had met the evening before. She looked upwards to meet the woman's gaze and offered her a shy smile. "Good morning Miss Breanna."(d)

Breanna Keelan

A bit of yellow sunshine in a weary woe-begotten world! She looked up at the mention of her name, unrolling a case holding another ream of necklaces. Delicate fingers undid the laces ever so slowly only to illustrate the length of each change as she smoothed them out. "Ah, good morning Miss Deva. What brings you out today? Come for adventure, romance, a chance to make mark in a city so large it could swallow itself twice?" (d)

Deva Cowen

She grinned a little bit at the woman her stance relaxing in her presence, comfortable around the woman liking her more then she would ever admit. "No nothing sae grand as that Miss Breanna. I am seeking flowers for my Lady. Though I doubt my task will be fruitful. " She sighs a little her eyes dropping to the displayed jewelry admiring the craftsmanship for a moment before glancing back up at her newfound friend. (d)

Breanna Keelan

"Flowers." Breanna tilted her head before twirling a finger around the loose russet curl. Well, well, was this not a quandry? She settled down on her stool. "Flowers for Lady in the middle of winter.." Let us consider the season said she as she lifted her hand to the chill in the air all around them. People were braced against the North Wind's hard kiss while others discussed the potential fall of more ice-rain. Flowers? "Unless you practice darker arts you not find them out here child. I think Lady should look in..hot house. Some people keep them to grow flower all year, very much the money though I hear. I haven't one." She shrugged, oh she had dried herbs. Things she could dig out of the snow, things stored over other seasons. She had pictures of flowers or a flower ring, flower necklace but nothing of real stems or petals. "I have heard that the..very devoted or very crazed keep them to grow all year. Seem not too natural to me, but oh well." She shrugged again. At least it was an idicator of which-way-by-where-by-whom. "You look the necklace?" She grinned, cupping her face in two hands before applying her elbows to the table. (d)

Deva Cowen

She frowns a little bit as her task she knew was near to impossible. "Do ye know anyone Miss Breanna that would have such?" She watched as the woman leaned on the stand and once more her gaze went to the jewelry on the stand. "They are very nice Miss, did you make them yourself? (d)

Breanna Keelan

"Just where they are, you walk city paths some o' big gardens and the big places have them? I know not the names. I do know my very close friend Adelaide deSauvettere....oh..wait..oh do wait now I see I see..no no she married now! Aquitaine. So, she keeps apothecary shop her hand grow good things but I not know if she keep th ehot house, and even then she apothecary not gardener so you have to look. But like all things here.." Sh epulled up one of the strands of beads that became a prism making rainbow light, dancing for the women. Showing them a hundred springs in this thick frost weakened by rain, only to frost again "There are a hundred possibilities. So you find them if you but look, your mistress not be mad at that eh? She want, you go on quest to find. Like the...hmm What conlaed say?" She looked in the sky as if it were written there for her "Holy Grail! That story he tell me. He like the ink, book. He make presses if he not doing the woodwork, and printing the things. He takes much pride in it..the reading." (d)

Deva Cowen

She knew that story well and smiled nodding, "It will be a similar task I am afraid. I will have to keep looking. I hope I do not dissapoint her..." Her face fell at the idea, knowing if she didn't find what she sought, it would mean punishment, it would not matter that they just did not exist right now... she would still be punished. She shuddered a little bit and pulled her cloak closer tighter around her slender shoulders, though it did nothing to keep her any warmer the material so thin it might as well be a summer dress for all the good it did to keep the young girl warm. (d)

Breanna Keelan

"You should not worry so much on that.." Easier said than done, easier said than done. What was she afraid of? There was much to be afraid of she speculated when your clothes were too big and your prospects too tied in with monied gadje. She, too, had her own worries butit was not the time to discuss them. "Why you not come sit in here. I bring a little fire keeper with me, you look cold. You not find flowers if you freezing. You flower yourself, so young." She reached in her pocket, opened her hand, blew, and the fire increased? It was compliments of the powder which came from her showmanship...but of what? Strange woman, selling jewelry in bright yellow, blowing powder out ot her pocket (d)

Deva Cowen

She looked back towards the Inn checking to see if she could be seen. For the moment it was out of sight she breathed a sigh of releif then turned back to Breanna and smiled. "Perhaps for just a moment Miss.. " She slipped inside the stall, just a tiny waif of a thing, barely tking up any space at all instantly the warmth hit her and she almost purred with the feel of it. " Ohh Miss that is very nice thank ye." (d)

Breanna Keelan

"Only a moment, nothing more. You have chores to do and I have dreams to sell.." In order to keep her own no? She began to bead a piece of wire with the desire of an unknown customer's minds as she watched the little thing all but drop her weight in clothes alone. "You are welcome, child. A fire should be shared. My people say it is not much of anything when only one sit by fire and not many. What is one alone but just that, alone?" Breanna had a way of being distracting while at the same time utterly convincing you belonged wherever she happened to be at the time. Unfortunate events proved just the right moment to unravel your insides to see what lay at the core of them. (d)

[Deva Rose Cowen]

Deva sat for a bit visiting with her new friend reluctant to leave the warmth provided by the fire. She agreed with the woman that a fire is best shared, but those she used to share a fire with were now a continent away. Raised in the Highlands as she was, the cold wheather did not bother her as much as it might others, she was more used to it. She missed her home terribly and hoped that someday she could return to see her family, her Father, her brothers. She let her thoughts wander for a bit before the approach of a potential customer drew her out of her thoughts and had her coming to her feet and bidding Breanna a good day. She gathered her wheathered cloak around her slender body and slipped out of the stall. Her tiny feet carried her down the street to continue her search for flowers.

She visited vendors, and public gardens, and anyone she thought might know where to find some blooming flowers. Inwardly she wondered if the Lady made her request just so that she would have yet another thing to complain about. She sighed softly as she continued on her features brightening suddenly as an idea came to her. Suddenly her step was lighter and a song came to her lips and she began to sing softly as she made her way into the market to find someone who might beable to grant her request.

"Faries dancing in a field of gold, Fairies spreading sweet petals to hold, Come, O' Come, ye sweet Fairies dance in my field of Gold" The words she sang in a lilting voice, sweet as a harp, beautiful as the sound of water rippling over rocks and birds singing on a quiet day. Her voice carried further then she had antcipated and several who passed her would stop and look back just to listen a few moments longer to the singing girl on a mission.

[Breanna Keelan]

Breanna wanted to keep the tiny waif in too-large clothes by her too-small fire risen beyond the componets of the stove by her too-large supply of showman's tricks. She wanted Deva to stay, because she found something fascinating in the girl. If nothing, the Roma was always curious when another could become the curio. A little distraction never hurt anyone! But as with all things the fire would lower. Business still needed to be done for the needed coin and a girl had to go off for the ludacrist request of flowers in a season where nothing much grew. Gadje. Now being a creation of necessity invention it wasn't though she hadn't marveled at the idea of an enclosed place so hot it could act with enough fire to fuel a mock-season but the problem was it would always be a mockery. She enjoyed a few things that made her husband prosper; ink, printer's presses, paper. Things that didn't matter so much to a jeweler today, a fire eater tomorrow, but it allowed them to preserve their legacy. She learned the legacy of word from him and he would give it to their daughter Illona and the little Busy-boy who was either a smaller brother, a half time son, or a nephew. The pair hadn't decided yet.

What was most evident however was that the red-haired one was destined for something. How did she know? It was in the way she stepped, the shape of a footprint in a little bit of mud where a cobblestone piece had broke. Even landlocked, half settled gypsies never loose the ability to read sign. No doubt the paths would cross again soon. For the meantime she continued to bead, listening to the girl's song as she continued about her day.

[Ainsley MacKinnon]

Winter's embrace was firm in its chilly grasp. It chose not to let hold slip for even a moment upon those who decided to brave its icy breath. Most preferred to stay indoors and avoid it altogether, but Ainsley MacKinnon had always been a child of nature. It'd always been a point of frustration for her dear Ma. The woman had fretted constantly for whenever Ainsley was put in a clean gown it'd be soiled within moments. Neat braided hair always come undone by romping in the snow or running through the woods. Leaves were a constant decoration to rich waves of auburn and a smattering of soil a compliment to creamy skin.

Nowadays, Ainsley didn't romp in mud puddles or roll in snow, but she did take the time to acquire a horse and ride like the wind through white-dusted fields. It was one of these rides that she'd just returned from. After returning the horse to the stables the young woman, newly appointed Captain of the Griffin Archers- though she yet need be presented before King and Queen, had a blush brought on by cold upon creamy skin tinted with a hint of tan from hours in the sun. She'd foregone wearing her usual uniform for a simple gown of rose with cream-colored flowers at the hem with a heavy cloak of gray over top to keep warm, and boots in place of slippers. Hood was down to let wind play upon her face and long auburn strands were allowed to fall free in waves down her back as she browsed the vendor stalls.

Only two signs of her position remained- the necklace with arrowhead and feathers cast in gold about neck, and the quiver and bow upon her back. For Ainsley had never gone anywhere without the latter and since receiving the former refused to take it off even to sleep. Pausing at a stall where beaded designs seemed to be made one gloved hand lifted to look through pieces. She had late Yule gifts to buy for her family who'd be coming to visit for her presentation according to Brin which both excited and made her nervous.

Lips tilted downward in semblance of frown as Ainsley's cadet blue gaze swept from the little cloth designed with beaded flowers she'd been fingering to look at the ground in contemplation. Though lifted to light upon a singing young woman. She sings beautifully, was the thought that flitted through Ainsley's mind.

[Deva Rose Cowen]

Deva moved through the crowds continuing to humm softly to herself. She searched each stall looking for just the right one. She started for one that held beaded goods, only to stop and lift her head listening carefullly over the din of the people milling around the market. As she looked around she spotted the woman sporting the quiver and bow. The sight gave her pause for a moment. It was somethng unusual to her, something not seen very often and it took her by surprise. Her amber gaze lingered for a moment longer but then that sound was heard again and suddenly all esle was forgotten.

She turned from the stand and made her way through the gathered people following the unmistakeable sound of music. Her heart lifted and a smile curved her lips, temorarily putting the search for flowers to the back of her mind. When she came to what she sought there were three men of varing ages playing different instruments playing an old familliar tune. She smiled as she saw others dancing in a circle made by the people as they came to listen and she slipped through them and entered the circle as well her tiny feet moving to the beat of the music, while her beautiful voice lifted up into the winter air to breathe life to those around her. A playful little ditty sang in clear sweet tones while her poorly shod feet made a rhythm of their own.

Deva closed her eyes and let the music flow through her, she let the world around her dissapear. As she danced her cap fell to the ground letting her long red hair fall clear to her waist, bouncing in shiny waves as she danced. With her eyes closed she could not see that the crowd had trippled and the center had cleared leaving her there alone to dance and sing. Even the music had lowered so she could be heard. Her fingers fisted in her too long skirt lifting the hem enough so she would not trip over the edges, her cloak swirled around her as she spun.

A beautiful wintery sprite, hidden beneath ugly tattered clothes, a butterfly, ready to spread her wings. She was pure and fresh, and totally unaware, that for the moment in that little space she circled, that time stood still as the crowd watched with rapt attention.

[Breanna Keelan]

Deva Cowen

Deva's face was lifted to the winter sun, her eyes closed, her feet moving to the pure beat of the music moving easily from one song to the next. Her face was flushed with pleasure and the joy of the dance. When the minstrels came to a stop finally she opened her eyes and her face turned an even brighter red. She looked around the crowd as people stared at her. She immediately ducked her head bending to pick up the cap that had fallen from her red curls and tried to dissaear into the crowd of people that had gathered. (d)


Breanna Keelan

"Brava!" The people cheered when the girl was done with her dance, aware or no. People didn't discriminate good art and why should they? Pleasure was pleasure just as snow was snow or rain was rain. Breanna hadn't ceased what she was doing to be spellbound by it, no, instead she appreciated it from sitting higher on gathered boxes by her stall. She laughed with no hidden mirth at the girl's singing, her little steps. So! There was more indeed to her than too-big-clothes or hunting out flowers. Could it be then that she, herself, was the flower she sought in the cold. The thing needing a warm place to grow? It could be. Breanna clapped her hands as carefully as she could given the string of delicate beadwork she had, her eyes alight. (d)


Deva Cowen

She slipped through the people gathered as quickly as she could embarassed to have let herself go and praying fervently that her Lord and Lady had not seen her, had not come looking for her and seen her. she shuddered at the thought. Deva paused and looked through the gathered people spotting instead Breanna as she sat on her elevated seat. She blushed a little bit but nodded her head and offered a shy smile to her friend. She then turned and slipped off into the crowd: searching out her stalls again after an hour she found what she was looking for, someone selling silks, she spoke with the vendor at length and despite the strangeness of her request the vendor agreed that they could have her request ready in a matter of a couple of hours. With a smile on her lips she made her way back towards Breanna's stall a lighter step to her stride. (d)


Breanna Keelan

"So, that is what you should be doing instead of looking for cold flowers hmm? Dah, that is what I think but it must matter so little, you blush like red flower when people notice you. Think make better living singing, free minstrel than servant." The idea was desparaging and disgusting, serving those people even at a distance looked like throwing herself on a rack to be stretched would be far better! Exaggerations aside something abou tthe whole affair just rubbed her wrong."Or use singing to people that appreciate it and service you give. That is what Breanna thinks and I will stick.." so said as the string went through the open circle of a needle "to it. Change is good."Most of the time. It carried with it uncertain waves but the art of being a willing leaf on a turbulent current was only mastered by the blissful willing (d)


Deva Cowen

She flushed again and dipped her head. "Nay. It is only something I love tae do Miss Breanna, my voice, my dancing feet, they are meant for God's pleasure, nae others. I did nae expect others to stop and listen. " She sighed slightly and looked back up at Breanna. She had always been taught that her talent was for God's pleasure, not the pleasure of others. She was used to singing for people, because it was required of her by her Lord and Lady, but in truth she always wanted to go somewhere and hide when the clapping began. Perhaps she was wrong in her thinking. But she would never know unless someone taught her different


Deva Cowen

She smiled to Breanna her face brightening. "However, I did solve my problem of flowers, and these won't die in a matter of days." (d)


Breanna Keelan

"God's pleasure? That is interesting unless God in square but I here it say by priest God is everywhere so then is it not good to please his people, made in his image? You so modest. Good trait in lady's maid I here, but you dance in Square. God and all creation see that sweet little one." She grinned with one of her usual winks before surveying flowers "Oh, what you come up with for that?" (d)



Deva Cowen

She flushed even more. "Perhaps ye are right Miss Breanna, Sometimes the flow and beat of the music is more then I can resist. God or no, I cannae help but dance." She smiles a little bit and drops her gaze to think on the matter for a moment. It was the mention of the flowers that had her turning to the seamstress as she approached with a large bouquet of hand made silk flowers in many colors. She gently takes the bundle from her and pays her the coin agreed upon. She thanked the woman with a smile and lifted the bundle up for Breanna's inspection. "Flowers made of silk, they will not wilt, will not die, and look almost real." (d)


Breanna Keelan

"Then you shouldn't help it, dancing not plague to cure, no, that that itself is cure to many things." And intelligent too, this little one dancing in the streets, singing to herself and now holding silk flowers. Breanna laughed! Oh how she laughed, slapping her knee as if a joke had been told enough to make vendors wonder why she laughed so long at flowers. "Ahhh see, Breanna not think of this! Silk flowers, never die, never turn brown. Very pretty ,make any sort you desire. Ah Silk! SILK" A few crossed themselves lest it be a devil in her body making her do so, a demon to excorcise that might leap up unto them if God weren't present. Others found a reason to be jolly too. Breanna inspired all sorts of reactions, didn't she? Where as the girl? Well she might have an easier go of it if she bucked herself up more. Silk flowers. In fact Breanna studied those, hmm..she could probably make a few herself for her outfits. Hmm....she studied. Oh she studied so close her nose was all but in Deva's boquet. Would the eyeliner smudge? Of course not. She was impractical but careful all the same. "I tell the husband I have some, but not made silk. Silk expensive, I try different thing though, he by me these ah I remember! By them two years ago..but they not so hard, make all else just not this way to do..I do." Who was she talking to really? God bless Breana (d)


Deva Cowen

At first she smiled and blushed rather pleased with her own cleverness as it were but then the woman continued to laugh and investigate her flowers so closely. She was afraid briefly that she would take the flowers for herself but then sheleaned back and seemed to mutter almost to herself or was that to Deva herself. Poor Deva was not so certain. She lifted her red brows curiously and smiled as she tucked the precious flowers into the bag she carried. Then suddenly she jumped as if struck as her name rang out sharply in the street. She had taken long enough to complete her task and now here came the Lady towards them a scowel on her pretty face making it almost ugly. (d)


Breanna Keelan

"This is good, good thing. Lady should be very..." A mouse, a guard, a forgotten task - what was it that sent Deva up toward the bright blue? Oh, Breanna gave no regard for facial expressions as the artist in her deemed silk flowers of this variety a good excuse to invade personal space still with regard to keeping person and product pure. Turning a cant of her head to follow where the girl looked- ah - the reason. A hideous reason really. A reason full of too much cosmetic and high perfume no doubt. "Madame, good day you. Have you come to look at jewelry, or the silken flowers? They take time to craft, but are worth the wait I assure you." Why she even bowed, natural actress this one. (d)


Deva Cowen

The woman stopped short and frowned. "SILK flowers?" she looked confused a moment then she looked down reproachfully at Deva as the girl held the said flowers to her chest. Long fingers reached out to touch one silk petal and another frown furrowed her delicate blonde brow. "That is not what I asked for Deva and you know it. " the woman spoke harshly. She started to raise her hand to the girl but then thought better of it for the moment. Instead she took the silk flowers and glared at Breanna, thinking she was the crafter of the beautiful confection she dropped the silk petals to the ground and dug the tip of her shoe into the bundle effectively destroying all of Deva's long searching and hard work. "Next time when I ask you for something Deva you will bring me exactly what I ask for or you will find yourself out in the street without so much as a penny to your name." Deva bit her tongue in an attempt not to say a word and earn her Lady's ire even more. She was never good enough, She could never please the woman. She cringed as the woman's hand wrapped around her slender upper arm bruising in it's grip dragging the slender girl closer to her. " you just might end up that way anyway.' the woman hissed into her face then turned, releasing her as she walked away calling over her shoulder. " Forget the flowers Deva you obviously cannot even do that right, return to the room with in the hour." (d)


Breanna Keelan

"Yes..silk flowers of.." In one instant the day's work was crushed under the ball of an uncaring foot! A long, hard inborne silence towards one alleged betters was part of a gypsy childhood. Oh yes, it was. It was part of the childhood of a poor irish girl on her grandmother's step. The roll of the snarl was trapped inside her breasts aching to get out. It twisted, turned in to its own creature coming up only to live in her eyes. She stayed out of it but secretly desired to curse the woman to slip in a puddle and ruin her already running, melting attempts at beauty. Stares did little to manifest any material curses though. It seemed that Deva, however, felt the sting of too much bad luck. Within the hour - it seemed that freedom was short lived for a servant of that household. Breanna settled down her beeding. Did any rise to help her? No, it was the lady's place to scold her servant. Did any find it wrong? Who knew. Breanna was limited in what she could or could not do. After the autumn's unfortunate affairs part of her was subdued. She wanted no further reason for the gadje to cause trouble for her family. No doubt Deva would come back to her, no doubt. She waited. "good day madame." As the woman walked away. Her eyes were still so..intensly hating. Surely the lady could feel that at the back of her head (d)


Deva Cowen

If she did feel it the woman made no indication. She gave a low huff and was gone. It was not until the woman had dissapeared that Deva would sigh in releif and then turned and bent to pick up the spoiled flowers fighting tears that stung at the back of her eyes and welled in the rims of her lashes. She picked up each muddied destroyed petal, a wasted fortune that would come out of her own pay. She sniffed once then twice, thenlifted her hand to wipe away the threat of tears before she would finally look up at her friend and simply whispered. " I should have known better' but deep down she knew that even had she found the live flowers that the Lady had wanted that she would have found fault with them. (d)

[Ainsley MacKinnon]

Music bridged a gap when class would normally cause division. A common love for the sweet melodies created able to bring people together. As the beat drifted upon the air it could be seen that folk of varying parts of life took part in dancing to the lively tune. For Ainsley it brought back memories of home that squeezed at her heart. She'd not seen her family in quite some time. In the evenings, once dinner and a bit of reading from the Good Book was done, her Da would start up a beat and in his gruff voice, with her Ma's mingling, sing various tunes.

The littlest girls, Jaime at 1, and Eimhir at 2, would bounce around the room in their form of dancing before the older twins 12 yr old twins Callum and Camden would pick them both up...and sway them around the room. Lanie, who was 8, would grab up Kendrick who as a boy and being 16 would try to avoid such a scene to have a partner, and then Bradana whom was 15 would take turns switching off with Lanie to the consternation of their eldest brother.

This left one little handsome fellow to Ainsley for a dancing companion- precious little Seamus. Twin to little Eimhir he had dark brown curls with hint of red when light it it, shocking blue eyes, and rosy cheeks in fair skin. On Eimhir it was beautiful. On a boy, like Seamus, it was adorable and precious. Likely as he got older he'd be teased for it by some girls, and most boys, yet it'd also be an irresistible lure. Even at 2 the girls were constantly 'oohing' and 'aahing' over him. Ainsley would tickle his sides for a precious giggle, pick him up on a hip, and twirl him around the room with quick footsteps.

She wasn't as good as the girl that now had the crowd's attention, but could dance a jig. For now though, with nostalgia in her heart and a slight mist of tears in her cadet blue gaze, she clapped along to the beat while observing. Only once the tune stopped and crowd departed did she offer a sympathetic glance toward the blushing beauty. Ainsley gave a gentle smile then moved off to sift through a few stalls of leather goods near a crate where a gypsy woman sat who was now excitedly talking to the dancing sprite.

Curious gaze played upon both women at the discussion of silk flowers, but Ainsley was more curious in the silk in general. "Pardon miss? Wha' vendor did ye a-happen ta buy tha' silk from? Ah'm shopping fer Yule presents ta give ta mah Ma and sister's..." Ainsley wasn't superbly skilled with needle and thread, but perhaps if she bought some quality silk she could talk to the unusual Lord Jean-Claude deAquitaine about making it into something beautiful...

[Breanna Keelan]

The little sweet one gave honey away for free on the milk-cream of her skin, the tone of her voice, and the movement of her body. People gathered around to see just what her music had to say. Leaning back on her crate had been some of the happiest moments of the day as she watched the girl surrender to her own whims. A dance, a song. A piece of passing fancy to the wayfarer but a revelation of soul for the soul-watcher. Inside of the young was a sense of better. "Faries dancing in a field of gold, Fairies spreading sweet petals to hold, Come, O' Come, ye sweet Fairies dance in my field of Gold" A dreamer telling her dream without meaning to reveal she'd even been dreaming. Breanna enjoyed the innocence of the artform. No one seemed to offer money to it which kept it pure (while the gypsy felt that those who were able were undoubtedly still cheap, purity or no purity, if the girl looked as if she were a street performer one should pay for the pleasure of watching. They liked to eat) from greed's designation.

Not all good things last forever, though.


When the song ended and the pair spoke of the reasons she should let herself go, she watched effort crushed underfoot. A woman approached the pair as the chattering came to a minimum. Breanna returned to her box as if she were a market-queen, to brood in the air about the rudeness of the well-monied. The fluctuations she endured with her husband between excess and nothing were better than a full coffer. They always poured back their funds in to constant improvements of supplies for their work, food for their small band of child and fellow showmen numbering two, and the necessity of moving from place to place when business (or inborn whim) decreed it. The pair of owned landmarks dear to their heart were in the balance. Maybe Conlaed was right. It was better to let one go and keep the other here in the heart of the city. Or maybe it was better to forsake it all so they would never become anything like what they saw. Even the people with a little extra penny harped over those few minted things, scrounged the griffin paper dollar. Metal or paper, what mattered it? The importance of things like the flowers of silk and the joy they could bring were more important. The mistress though didn't feel that joy. She crushed the meaning of beauty underneath her shoe.


Forgive the gypsy, Lady of Feathers. Forgive her. Breanna peered down from her crate-throne with blinking eyes, noting the cream colored dress and the gold sign of station about her throat. She was ignorant as to the station's meaning yet curious of the jewelry - as she had a few moments ago in the flowers been - so thus leaned a little further over to peer downward on the lass. Thinking better on it she climbed down. If the young girl in her company was as crushed as the silk petals were now she would need companionship. That much she could offer without reproach in the absence of the bytch. Ainsley's arrival was met with a better reception than the woman's exit:

"You ask Deva here. Deva know, she can show you. She know many things her mistress may not. Hello to you - hello - feathers of gold wearer. Good day and hello." She stooped down to pick up the sodden, marred display with intention to fix it. How? Oh, she was resourceful. If she could eat fire, dance, and spin on tiny wires and make jewelry and lanterns (oh she could do many things) she could make the flowers bloom eternal again. "Deva will tell you. Deva? You tell.." What was the name to call this one, feathers of gold wearer? In spite of the anger a little ago she let a smile flourish on her ever-young face, for Breanna was still older than both of them. No doubt they were as young as new spring flowers. She was well endowed by face and figure, but by comparison was a very sturdy, stable oak in a field of old blooming flowers with roots so deep they never left. Youth's roots could be pulled up if no one tended them carefully. "What your name, my lady? I am Breanna..Breanna Keelan." With that told, the gypsy sat to continue the odd introduction by sitting on the edge of her wooden table, her rear just a bit shy of a necklace. It was a keen marketing strategy really - while she found some water in her bucket to amend the sin done to the flowers

[Deva Rose Cowen]

Deva turned quickly wiping the tears away from her pretty amber colored eyes. She looked up at the woman who had asked about the flowers, and even smiled at Breanna's insistance that she be the one to tell her. She put her problems behind her pushing them to the back of her mind then stood a little straighter. "Yes, My Lady, I can show you where i found such fine silk, only a few stalls away really, there across the square... " She said pointing it out. She offered the woman a bit of a smile. "She had a nice collection My Lady. And was very inventive when I asked her to make something for me." She pointed to the ruined flowers in her friend's hand to make her point. Inbetween sentences Breanna was asking questions and when the request for a name came she could not help but pause and wait for the answer, curious herself who this woman was that carried a quiver and bow and was adorned with such a fine necklace.

[Ainsley MacKinnon]

Ainsley had only been a minor witness to the events that caused brought destruction to delicate beauty- both the flowers and the red-headed sprite. She couldn't fathom how anyone could be that heartless. Offering a sympathetic glance, but deciding not to speak on the matter in an effort to help ease the girls feelings, she nodded at the gypsy who explained that...Deva? Aye, Deva, would tell her. Cadet blue gaze followed the direction of pointed finger with turn of head that made loose auburn strands sway. "Tha' one? Many a-cart ta peruse. Ah must 'ave missed tha' one."

Ainsley looked back as lips curved wider and curious gaze perused the features of both women. They seemed a friendly sort. The question of her name brought a bit of sheepishness, for her lack of manners,"Och, excuse mah manners, Ah'm Ainsley MacKinnon. Cap'n of th' Griffin Archers. A pleasure it be ta meet ye Deva, and Breanna."

[Breanna Keelan]

"Many things easy to miss, many not see what is right in the front of them. Sometimes we need help to see it, what we would otherwise not see. The sad thing is some people never thankful either way."

Breanna mutter-mumbled her ha'penny's worth as she continued to mind and mend the ruined boquet of silk. How could, from all that mud and ruin, return silk color waiting only to dry of the water? A question not of the ages. No, it was a question that mattered only to the person for whom the smallest things made a difference. When Ainsley introduced herself completely she looked up. A woman - a captain of archers? Why the realm never ceased to be suprising. In that same turn those that quickly rose could do so on the backs of those that fell. Her own concerns were never given up to be food for their thoughts only it constantly fed one part of the mind before manifesting in another. She smiled with a nod of her head, "It is good to meet you, Rani MacKinnon" the foreign word was said with enough reverance to give it respect, "If you like while you ponder you may sit here beside my little stove, what you will get or see or do. Deva, will you stay?" No doubt the girl needed to get back to the hell in which she lived with no reprieve from that too-prettily clad Satan.

[Deva Rose Cowen]

Deva too was surprised by the woman's introduction, but she smiled warmly. "A pleasure tae meet ye my Lady." When asked to confirm the pointed out little cart she nodded that yes indeed that was the cart with the toothless old woman sitting out front of it and a younger woman of about 35 behind it sewing up some new order that had been made.

She turned to Breanna when she was asked if she would stay and her face fell. She looked towards the direction her Lady had dissapeared and sighed deeply. "Nay Miss Breanna I cannot stay. I must go. I do not want to earn her ire anymore then I have already. " Impulsively she hugged the woman and then with an appologetic look to the Lady Captain she turned and fled down the street on quick feet barely remembering to lift her too long skirts high enough so she would not trip on them.

[Deva Rose Cowen]

(( This post is also posted under the Turas Lan Market under the heading "Damsel in Distress", and takes place a day or two after "A Search for Flowers in Winter"))


Leland Corwin

Leland had spent the first part of his day as he did every day since becoming employed by the Lady Artisan, to which was tending to both her and her horses. Yes, the castle had stable hands to see to the horses within their stalls, but Leland politely insisted that he be allowed to do his job. The dirty blonde male was no hulking figure like say... that of the Lord General. Nor was he puny like some small boy. Leland was a man of the average height of six feet. He weighed roughly around two hundred pounds... and his body type was lean, almost like that of a warrior, or an athlete. His face was scruffy, as he had yet to shave in the last few days and he honestly wondered how he had got away with such a thing with the Lady Apollius. Evidently, she didn't mind for a man to have a bit of hair on his face, perhaps it had something to do with the cold weather of the winter season? He was dressed down. No fancy fabrics adorned his frame right now and looked more the part of a humbled soul in typical garb. Nice, but normal. He was making his way through the market place during his break to pass the time away. Being cooped up inside within cold walls wasn't as nice to look at compared to being outside in the cold with much better scenery. Blue eyes would shift about slowly, cautiously, and yet... discretely. Leland was a man of many secrets... secrets he intended to keep hidden for as long as possible. Blending in with the people of this city was necessary. [d]



Deva Cowen

Ahhh yes blending in something that poor Deva was never good at. Her mind was three steps ahead as she watched the stalls as she passed looking for something specific. In such she was not paying attention to where she was going. Inattentiveness and clumsy were never a good combination. She silently slipped through a crowd of people who had begun to gather before the baker's stall her head craned as high as she could get to see over the much taller people. Suddenly she wasn't moving anymore, instead she was falling tripping over her own two feet and landing at the feet of another the one and only person not to step out of her way as she started to fall. She lifted amber colored eyes quickly an apology quick on her lips and a blush staining her pretty cheeks. her long red curls were falling from her cap falling against her forehead and down her cheeks and halfway down her back what managed to remain looked as if it were to come loose at any second. She scrambled to her feet and looked up at the blonde man she had stumbled in front of, " I am sorry Sir, I did not mean tae interrupt ye." She brushed her hair from her face and started to back away as if expecting to be struck for her clumsy behavior. She pulled her over large clothing tighter in against her body and was prepared for a quick retreat (d)



Leland Corwin

Leland had been passing that very same stall at that very same moment when he felt a force shove him forward and nearly loosing his balance entirely. He managed to stumble a time or two and was quick to right himself before turning and realizing what had happened. Had she given him time, he would have offered her his hand and a smile with it to help her back to her feet. However, she was much to quick and was nearly about to run off in a flush of red before he reached out and grabbed her arm gently to still her. "My Lady... are you alright? Are you well?" he asked, not yet letting her go but not keeping her from tearing away if she so pleased. His grip was firm, but if she wished to free herself, she could have. His hand would remain there on her forearm, just above her slender wrist for as long as she allowed it while he awaited a reply. Dirty blonde locks fell across his face, his blue eyes peering out from behind the wispy strands as a charming smile remained plastered on his lips. "No need to apologize... it was an accident. And you hardly interrupted anything. I was ... meandering through the crowd, nothing more." The mysterious soul before her smirked a bit and glanced down with an easy smile still before he lifted his eyes to look back to her. Pretty little thing, wasn't she? [d]



Deva Cowen

Deva squeaked softly as she felt that firm hand around her slender arm her amber eyes wide and almost fearful absolutely certain that the man was going to strike her, certain he would be angry as she had nearly tripped him as well but the words that came from his lips surprised her. She tilted her head and looked up at him her brows rising. "I am fine Sir, thank ye for asking. Are ye alright? " she asked in concern her fingers reaching out to dust off his jacket trying to make amends and checking for injuries at the same time. Her pretty brows furrowed with concern as she checked him over. Completely unaware that her cap fell off completely her long red curls falling down to her waist in a cascade of silken brilliance. (d)



Leland Corwin

She looked absolutely terrified. Had she expected him to cause her harm? Well, had she known him another at another time, he would have understood such a look, such an expectation. Though, it made him wonder if she hadn't been mistreated by others to where she expected that from all men. "Good... and yes.. I'm alright." he replied with a small smile. He noticed how her eyes moved up and down his form. He knew she was making sure he was alright, but wondered if maybe making a jest would help settle her nervousness. "I'm not sure whether I should take your lingering gaze as an insult or as a compliment... Its been to long since the eyes of a woman have stared hard at me." He chuckled a little and then moved to bend at the waist and pick up her cap. "I believe this is yours my lady.." he said as he held out her cap to her for her to take. Pretty? No... she was far from pretty... she was absolutely beautiful. God, this land was already cursing him. Every where he looked there was lovely ladies. [d]



Deva Cowen

She blushed deeply at his comment her pretty cheeks turning a sweet crimson. " Just making sure ye are alright Sir.. and please I am nae lady, just a servant Sir nae need for such high titles for one such as meself." She spoke in a lyrical tone. If she knew his thoughts she would have been as red as her hair and would have been totally baffled, how could one consider her beautiful when she wore such ill fitting clothes and her hair a mess as it was. she accepted her cap from his fingers and looked down. "Thank you Sir." she said softly then looked around quickly to see if anyone else was taking note of their exchange, namely the Lord and Lady whom she served who she knew were coming to the market today but had sent her ahead to scout for a few things. (d)



Leland Corwin

Leland's smile was an easy one and friendly at that as he saw how her cheeks seem to fill with a tint of color. "None sense, every woman is a Lady until they give a man a reason not to call her such." he replied. He let his eyes look to where she had brushed his jacket clean and then back to her. Beauty is in the eye of the beholder and even in what she deemed a mess, he could see such. Past those ill fitting clothes, past that mane of messy red hair. Once she took her cap from him, he too looked about, though for an entirely different reason. He looked back to her then. "Are you with someone... expecting someone?" he asked, wondering why she was looking about in such a manner. "And your welcome. Might I have the pleasure of learning your name?" he asked as he stared down at her with intense blue eyes. Eyes that sparkled like the stars, one might mistaken it as a twinkle of mischievousness. [d]



Deva Cowen

She looked up at him her gaze locking with his for a moment, and in that time she felt as if her breath had been stolen. Such beautiful eyes on a man. She doubted he would appreciate the term when applied to him but she could think of no other. She cleared her throat twice before she could answer thinking that God should not make men that good looking it just drove women to distraction, herself included. "I... I am looking for my Lord and Lady. They were supposed to come shortly after me. " She answered softly. When his request for her name came she could not stop the smile that curved her soft lips which just lit up her pretty face and made her Amber eyes glitter. " My name be Deva Cowen, Sir. And ye? Dae Ye have a name?" The request for his name came almost shyly almost as if she were uncertain if she should ask. (d)



Leland Corwin

He noted how she seem to stare deep into his eyes, and at first, it brought a smile to his face, but then her tore his gaze away. Why? What was he afraid she would see? The eyes were the windows to the soul they say. His smile had faded for a moment, but he was quick to cover it as he pretended to look around once more. When she cleared her throat and answered his first inquiry, he nodded. "Well, I'm sure they will soon be along soon. Maybe they will be late so that we may talk a while longer? Maybe let me buy you something warm to drink on such a cold day? It would be to thank you for your kindness." Leland then chuckled when she gave her name. How odd... her surname sounded so much like his own. "A pleasure to meet you Deva Cowen..." he said as he carefully reached for her hand. He curled her fingers over his own and brought the back of her hand up to place a chaste kiss to her knuckles. He lifted his eyes to her for a moment before he would release her hand gently and straighten his form. "I'm Leland Corwin. Groomsmen and stable hand to the Lady Artisan... at your service." he said in a half teasing tone. [d]



Deva Cowen

She saw him look away and flushed a little, it had been rude she knew she had been warned countless times by her Lady never to meet the gazes of her betters. She sighed softly and waited to be dismissed but then instead he was seeking more time with her offering to buy her a warm drink. She looked down shyly as he brushed his lips against her slender knuckles her tiny fingers curling into his hand as he took it. She whispered softly. "A pleasure to meet you then Sir Corwin." She too was struck by the similarities of their surnames. She smiled a little more and watched a lock of his hair as it fell over his eyes and knew the urge to gently push it back so she could see them again. (d)



Leland Corwin

The fact that she continued to look away as if she had been scolded like a puppy, had his brows furrowing. "Its alright to look at me.. I mean.. I take no insult to it. I'm no Lord...and if I were, I would not dismiss you for such." he said. It was strange how people were brought up to believe such.. what he thought were foolish manners. If someone didn't make eye contact with you, how were you to know if they were paying attention to what you said? At least this was his thought on things. When she smiled, he too would smile and it was simply because he was glad to see she seemed at ease now. "Here... why don't we step over this way..." he offered her his arm while gesturing with his free hand to the stall next to the baker where fresh hot coffee perforated the air as it brewed. As the beans were being roasted, grind, and packaged. As hot cups of the freshly made liquid was poured and served to those that requested it in exchange for coin. "Coffee... or would you prefer hot cider?" he asked as he then pointed out the next stall. [d]



Deva Cowen

As he spoke she lifted her gaze almost uncertainly and smiled a little more as he declared himself not a Lord. She glanced at the two different stalls. Cider sounds good Sir." She spoke softly as she followed him in his intended direction. Perhaps as they walked she would spy the vendors she had been sent to check out. She looked down as she walked but this time it was to make sure she had pulled her too long skirts up enough that she wouldn't trip over them. (d)



Leland Corwin

"Leland.." he corrected with a friendly smile as he looked back to her. "And cider it is..." He led them over to where the woman was dipping and pouring into mugs the hot liquid. Two ciders were order, coin was given, and drinks handed over to him. One he passed off to Deva, the other he kept for himself. "Do you make it a habit to bump into strangers so they can offer to buy you something?" he teased. "And who is your Lord and Lady? What do they look like, perhaps I can help you keep an eye out for them." Leland then brought the mug up for a sip, testing its warmth. It was hot, but not scorching... and so a more hearty swallow was taken as he looked to the red head at his side. [d]



Deva Cowen

She accepted the cup in small slender hands and also tested it's warmth then took a soft sip from it. She looked around again as if speaking of them would bring them into view. "they are not from here so I doubt ye would k now them S.... " she paused as she remembered his correction earlier. "The lady is tall and blonde and usually wears a fancy hat, she loves them. My Lord is Shorter, rounder, and very distinguished and he wears a beard, and his hair is dark." She spoke softly her description coming slow as she thought of them and how to describe them. As she looked around she spotted something she was looking for, a fabrics stall, and hopefully a seamstress. Unthinkingly she took Leland's hand and darted off into the crowd towards the specific shop, totally forgetting the first part of his comments about her bumping into people. Yes that seemed to be a habit of hers especially here in this new place that she was totally unfamiliar with (d)



Leland Corwen

He took a couple more swallows and set his mug down on the nearby counter that was provided by the vendor. No sooner had he turned to look to her and listen to her share what her Lord and Lady looked like, she was grabbing his hand and having them dart off in the direction toward a shop of fabrics. He would excuse the two of them as they moved past several people and all with an amused look in his eyes and a smile to accompany it. "Are we in a hurry Deva? Have you a suitor to greet?" he teased once they came to a stop. He said this even though he was guessing it was the fabric shop she had hurried toward. "About your Lord and Lady... You would be surprised of how much I have learned since my being here." [d]



Deva Cowen

She blushed as she came to a stop and shook her head. " No Suitors Sir. Just fabrics my Lady, she wanted me to see if I could find some Asian silk... " she looked up at him for a moment then away then back. She had never had any suitors, but she didn't tell him that. Wouldn't unless he asked. She was always almost painfully shy most times. She glances up again and then frowns as she thinks she sees a familiar form in the crowd. She nearly jumps as someone bumps into her, skittish as a young colt as she tries to figure out what to do. (d)



Leland Corwin

"I find that hard to believe with as lovely as you are." he replied. "Psst... and its Leland.." he said with a chuckle again. "Asian Silk? Hmm... you should speak with My Lady. The Lady Eirian Apolluis. She lived in the East once, and has silk as well. Now whether she would be willing to part with it, I'm not sure. Even if she were not, I am sure could tell you to whom you should go to in order to get it." He looked from her to where she had looked and then back to Deva to see her frown and then jump. Was she worried that someone was about to come after her? He looked about, studying each face clearly to see if any looked to her and posed as a threat. He moved to stand before her, having her face him now, yet shield her from whom ever she thought she saw. "Are you in trouble? Is someone after you?" She would see in his eyes a genuine concern for her safety. He couldn't allow harm to come to her, her Lady and his own would not be very happy to learn that he had stood by and let such a thing happen. Of course, that would have never been the case where Leland was concerned. Women were to be protected from those that posed as threats... for whatever reason as long as the woman had not provoked without reason. [d]



Deva Cowen

She looked down totally charmed by him but still jumpy. She filed away his information about his Lady. She would have to see her to find some of the fine expensive silk as she did not see any at the stall they were standing before. She cringed as she heard the familiar sound of her Lady's call. "Deva, come here, now..." The woman's voice was shrill almost and sent a chill down her spine. She was obviously not happy and that did not bode well for Deva at all. She looked up at Leland apologetically. "That is my Lady, Thank you S.... Leland for your help and the drink and for being so kind but I had better go." it was likely she would see the backside of her Lady's hand before the day was through, and more then once, but her punishment would be even worse if she knew she was late in returning to them because she had stopped to talk to someone. (d)



Leland Corwin

Leland could hear the screeching tone of the Lady that called for Deva and frowned. Obviously Deva wasn't thrilled to go back to the woman and he had a hunch as to why. "I see..." His hands came to cup each of her shoulders as he stared down at her. "You are welcome and thank you for sharing with me the cider." said with a small soft smile. "If... if you run into trouble... don't hesitate to look for me. Or send word if you must. I can be found at the Castle as My Lady is with the Court and all the Court is there for the winter season." He meant that too. If Leland learned that Deva's Lady was mistreating her, he would do the polite thing first and see if his own Lady would intervene for the young woman. Then again, depending on the severity of the situation, he may just handle it himself. He was capable of such things as it was what he use to do in another life time. Remedied problems...and this Lady of Deva's certainly sounded like a problem. Leland was whatever the situation called for. If Deva and he were to become friends, well, she might just learn this about him, along with a few others things. [d]



Deva Cowen

Her gaze softened as she fidgeted in his grasp. She leaned up and impulsively kissed his cheek softly. "Thank you. You have no idea how much that means to me." She settles back on her heels and with the call of the Lord now echoing the Lady's as they spot her she almost whimpers. " I better go, or they will just be even more angry. Perhaps when my time is my own we can share another warm drink and each other's company." Fighting off her own instincts to run the other direction she gently slips out of his grasp and heads towards the waiting Lord and Lady. She gasped sharply as the Lady's hand connected with her cheek with a loud slap, the girl's head jerking to the side sharply and a red hand print appeared on her delicate cheek. She was not even given the chance for an explanation. (d)



Leland Corwin

Leland gave another soft smile and nodded before he was caught off guard with the impulsive kiss to his cheek from the lady's sweet lips. "Your welcome.. and anytime." he replied. She settled back down on her heels and was soon slipping free from his grasp before moving off toward her Lord and Lady. He turned to watch after her, letting his gaze linger and just when he was about to turn to leave, he caught sight of the slap to Deva's face. THAT did not settle well with him at all. He turned fully and began a confident and determined stride over toward the trio. "Excuse me My Lady... My Lord... I could not help but notice how poorly you treat this young woman. I would be careful if I were you, for the eyes of his and her Majesty are many. They do not favor those that are careless with their title and or positions." There was a small pause. "Should I let you off with a warning or might I need to report this act that I have seen with my very own eyes to both the King and Queen? Have you taken to them... so they might hear your pitiful excuse of a reason for slapping a girl without reason. Even if she had deserved punishment... it would have been wise not to give it in the public." He was sure they would doubt his word for how he was dressed, but he could easily come up with a reason as to why he wore these clothes rather than that of someone who served the King and Queen. It was called a disguise. To catch people in their wrong doings without being detected and he would use them as a prime example. "Lady Deva Cowen... have you some place else to go? Perhaps I can assist you in maybe finding a much better Lady and Lord to employ you." [d]



Deva Cowen

She watched the scene with a growing horror. She saw her Lord's face turning redder and redder as Leland reprimanded him so publicly. She Saw his hand fist and moved just as he lifted it to strike turning to Leland her hands on his chest her eyes pleading. "Sir, please I am fine. The Lord and Lady have been most kind." Her eyes of course denied that statement, her hands on his chest trembled, obviously fearful, but this time for Leland's safety rather then her own. She gently pushed him back while the Lord and Lady both sputtered in anger "I thank you Sir for your concern but I will be well, I promise you." Her cheek throbbed and a clear hand print was forming a bruise on her pretty cheek but she ignored it and hoped that Leland didn't see it. She feared for him, for what the Lord would do to him if he continued with this. She feared what the Lord and Lady would do to her once they returned to their rooms. She fervently hoped that he would decide to back down, but something deep inside her told her that he likely wouldn't. It bothered her because she knew her Lord and he could create more then a little trouble for them both if he really wanted to, and he would, she knew he would, he had just been highly embarrassed in a public place there was no way he would let that stand without retaliation. (d)



Leland Corwin

Leland continued to maintain an all to calm attitude. He looked as if he weren't at all worried and to be honest, he wasn't. At least not for himself. The dirty blonde had wanted to smirk, wanted to laugh as the man's face continued to turn to just about every shade of red that was known. When the man lifted his fist to strike out at Leland, even with Deva trying to have him avoid the blow, he was steadfast in his stance and his own hand was quick to lift and stop the Lord's punch from making contact as his fingers wrapped around his wrist while Leland leaned to one side. "My Lord... that was a very foolish move on your part. Try that again, and the Queen will surely hear of your actions. Then it will be your head she will have... not mine." His stare was cold, it was hard, and it was dark. That brilliant shade of blue had turned to a much deeper and darker version. "I am warning you both here and now... after this misunderstanding, should I hear that the Lady here has been mistreated in any fashion what so ever, it will not be only the Queen you will have to answer to." His grip on the wrist tightened before it would loosen and he would practically throw it aside. His eyes then turned to the Lady. "The same goes for you as well." All of this of course taking place as Deva pleaded with Leland and tried her best to have him turn away. It was something Leland simply could not allow. "I have been kind enough to not yell your faults out loud, as I have done my best to keep this as low profiled as possible. If you are to feel any shame... it is yourselves to blame. Not I nor the Lady Cowen here." Leland was standing now between Deva and her so called employers. He half turned and gently ushered her back behind him. Just in case things did continue to escalate. Had Leland lied? Did he serve the King and Queen of Skye? Of course he did... just like any other loyal subject. Details weren't always necessary, were they? [d]



Deva Cowen

The Lord glared at Leland, looking down his nose at him even if he had to tilt his head back to do so making him look very much like a Tom turkey lifting his head to inspect the rain, stupid birds, stupid man. Those eyes narrowed as the Lady turned and moved through the crowd without a word leaving her husband standing there. But she was not gone for long, no instead she had gone and retrieved a guard, explaining with sickly sweetness that some vagabond had accosted her titled husband and was attempting to kidnap their servant. My my how people can twist stories to their own false truths. The guard approached reassuring the woman that he would do what he could unfortunately completely unaware of the situation at hand. Mean while little Deva grabbed hold of Leland's jacket trying to pull him back knowing when the Lady left that her return would bode ill. it was almost as if she saw what was coming. She whispered softly. " Please Sir, Please do not provoke them more, it will just be worse in the end..... " (d)



Leland Corwin

Leland's left brow arched and he continued to maintain eye contact with the haughty Lord. He had suspected that the Lady might try this and well, to be honest, when the guard was walking back with her he just smiled to them all. Leland looked down to Deva as she pulled and tugged on his coat. He hardly looked like the vagabond that the Lady had described him to be. When the guard came, surely he would recognize not only the colors of Leland's attire, but the emblem, the symbol of the Lady Artisan's House. When questioned, Leland told him no lies. Told him everything that had taken place right here and he could pluck any passer by that had watched to which would agree. Leland told the guard that he was simply looking out for the safety of Deva. That if anyone had been assaulted it had been her and by none other than the so called honest Lady. Proof was on Deva's cheek and it was something the Guard couldn't ignore for it was as red as could be. The Guard told Leland to be on his way, and as for the Lord and Lady, they were told the same, but that if any other disturbances occurred on account of them causing it, he wouldn't hesitate to see that they were either fined and or reprimanded by the proper authorities. As for Deva, the guard told her it was up to her if she wished to return with the Lord and Lady, or to see that some sort of justice be had for their mistreating her and maybe staying with someone else that could be trusted. He then walked away, but lingered nearby just in case. Leland on the other hand stepped away a few paces and brought Deva with him. "Deva... you don't need to go back to them ever. If its a place you need to stay, stay with me. If its food you need, I'll share my own. I'll even help you find a better family to serve." He said as he gazed down at her. The dark shade of intense blue lingered while signs of the lighter, bright shade attempted to return. [d]



Deva Cowen

The whole time the Lord and Lady glared highly affronted by the events. They turned and left but the lingering glare they gave Deva told her that they expected her to follow. She was torn, to be free of them would be heaven but she knew without a doubt that if she did not go that they might send word to her father, word that was far less then favorable. Part of her wages had been sent to him on a monthly basis to help support her family. She needed their employ. Her eyes lifted to Leland's his words striking a cord in her heart. No one had ever offered her such. She lifted her hand to cup his cheek, extremely moved by his offer. " As much as I would love tae accept yer offer Leland I cannae. My father depends on my wages. He left me in their care. " She trailed off and looked down. Her father would be ashamed of how she failed, and that was the last thing she wanted. It was obvious that she did not want to go. Obvious that she would rather stay with him and her steps seemed rooted to the spot for the moment. But then she started to move away from him biting back the threat of tears, the urge to run. Instead she lifted her head with Cowen pride and started to move past him, to follow the dreaded terrible lord and Lady that had caused such a stir. (d)



Leland Corwin

This did not set well with the mysterious man that lived a life full of secrets. A man that had once did things, and served those that would think him mad now as he did good for another. He watched as both the Lord and Lady left, watched as Deva looked torn to do what she had to do and what she wished to do. Had Leland any idea of just how much was needed to be sent to her father, he would have gladly handed over his own to send in place. No woman deserved to be treated as she had, and to then be stuck in that very hostile environment to possibly suffer from it again. No... Leland was not happy about this at all and it showed in his eyes as well as the frown on his face as she cupped his cheek and refuse his offer. "I understand... but at some point lady Deva.... you must stand up for something or you will fall for anything." His words were soft, almost whispered with a hint of a deep rumble in his chest and throat as if he were struggling to hold back the madness that plagued him deep inside. Begging to be voiced, to be acted upon. Her father would be ashamed of how she failed? No... her father should be ashamed of how his daughter had to endure such from the likes of people like those whom she was with. That she was being made lesser of a woman because of it. She lingered, and he debated on whether or not to plead once more. However, she was soon moving off, and he watched offer her in frustration. While she may have to go back to the Lord and Lady, she wasn't going back alone. He would definitely be keeping an eye on her, making sure that Deva was not mistreated and if she was... well, lets just say that they would soon be learning that what goes around, comes around and ten fold at that. He sighed... turned once she was no longer within his sights and moved to head back to the castle. There was someone there he would need to speak with about this. He refused to stand by and let her be trapped in the lions dens without any back up. [d]

[Deva Rose Cowen]

Deva

Deva had no idea what was in store for her. Her Lord had his hand on her tiny shoulder, fingers bruising the flesh under the thin cloth of her dress. Her cloak had been left behind, a punishment for yesterday's display. Against her creamy cheek lay a darkened bruise, and another to match on her opposite cheek, that one delivered once she reached their rooms. There were dark circles under her eyes and her hair was in tangles, the cap long gone, her feet dragged against the stone as the Lord practically dragged her towards the man who would soon be auctioning her off to the highest bidder. The man was tall, slender, and dressed very nice even for someone in his profession. His hair was dark and pulled back, he wore a top hat, and a well tailored jacket. His eyes narrowed on the girl as the pair approached, and the smile that curved his lips made Deva shiver and shrink back, only to be jerked forward for inspection. (d)



Auctioneer

"Well now, me Lord...this be the little snippet eh?" He took off his hat, twirling it on his finger before shoving it off to his assistant who was told with one leery look that if he should drop the expensive chapeau or marr the peacoke feather there on it would be his ass. Literally. Kicked until it shone. This was his side business but it was still a profitable turn."So we find a home for the lost little lamb at a price of course, you have my fee I take it? I dun work for a pittance.." He picked up a few locks of Deva's hair "You should've brushed it, but peasents come worse..it'll be fetching..good skin, clean face. What talents ya got girl? Speak" He patted her bruised cheek rather harshly Squeezed her face to inspect her eyes, look at her teeth like a damned mare. With a turn about he kept holding her face as he viewed her posterior. Hmm. "I said speak, poppet!" Squeeeeeeeze. "This is why you are payin' for your years of bed n' board I take it. Stupid as a pile of f**kin' sticks. Ah well. Let's try again..speak pretty. What skills ya got?" (d)

Breanna

The days had gone by without a care in the world or at least it appeared by the way she conducted her face. Gadje were as easy to fool as new born lambs - which to speak of- where had the Cowen girl with the baby cheeks and bright eyes go? Silk flower carrier. Singer in the streets. Breanna didn't need a deck of Tarot to predict the girl was ill placed in her too-large clothes, too-tangled hair, and unappreciated efforts. In a way she never forgave herself for not saying something to that Mistress of hers. Ah. The bytch. But she'd cursed her though - just ask the old croon woman at the end of the lane under the awning of the gypsy baker, for she'd come to exchange from her black twine and ten year old bramble bushes for one of her best shawls to sell all for the effort. If it work it'd twist her innards and blacken her refuse, hit her stomach hard until she learned the error of her ways. At the very least it would scare her to death. When hardship came you stopped caring about little things like what gadje thought of curses if they more than likely would never see them and know of them only by the look in your eye. Today though wasn't one for silence? She had leaned hard over her market stall, feet akick-kick behind her with the bell chime as Deva was hauled down the street like a mule. "What that, where they going...hey..who that?" She asked her neighbor (Some were more kind to her than others in the common market, being they loved her shows and her warm stove) "Takin' her to the auction, me thinks. More o' them of late." "Auction, what you mean...they not make her slave! They can not do that! "Not slave..no..but theys cans sell her off, make her pay off her debts, thats not wrong." Not wrong? The other day she'd stayed silent for her own sake but there are days when silence needs breaking. Breanna bid the man watch her stall - paying him a good price to do so when her own family needed the money now..but she'd run hard after them until the moment that Lord had seen her just before he passed Deva off to the flesh peddler. "Hey, what you do with her! What you do!?" The Lord pushed her back "What care you, it is all in order. Legal. Pity no one can sell you too. I am sure you'd make a pretty brothel buy." Breanna was ready to claw out his eyes if it weren't for one of the vendors following her, a relic seller. Relics were as false as chyt but he picked her up. At least he appreciated people "Dun piss them off Bre, they'll jail you!" (d)

Deva

Her Lord stood and watched with a dark smile as the man inspected her. When asked about the price the Lord nodded and held up a bag holding the agreed price in gold. Deva whimpered as her cheek was roughly patted the pain rendering her unable to speak at first, a muffled groan came next as he squeezed her tender sore cheeks nearly bringing tears to her eyes making them sting. She blinked several times before she managed to answer softly, her voice warm as honey but holding a note of defeat and perhaps a tang of fear to it when she answered. "I.. I can cook and c. clean Sir, I can sew but not very well, but I can manage to mend small tears and fix offed buttons... " She trailed off, anger and fear welling in her chest as she listened to their words. Her cheeks flared a bright pink at those harsh words that were laughed at by the Lord. How dare they try and take her wages, and give them to the Lord no less, that meant she would be unable to help her father at all... her teeth clamped together and ground against each other in an attempt to stay silent. And then Miss Breanna was there and she felt her spirits lift for a brief moment until she was pushed back and spoken to so rudely. She gasped and frowned at the audacity of these people, but she was helpless to say a word. She watched Breanna with pleading eyes, over bruised cheeks. She started to reach for her only to be jerked around her effort to check on her friend thwarted by rough hands (d)

Eirian

The penchant of the noble Lady Apollius to wander for extensive periods of time was akin to the sun's rise and set - for an artist, it was a constant thing. Today Eirian was on no hunt for inspiration but determined to view for herself the degradation occuring in his Majesty's kingdom. Leland had told Eirian of his concern for a particular young woman who was being badly treated to an extent that made Eirian put down her needlework and pick up her rosary beads. Her heart was made of of paper so easy to shred when it came to unfortunate souls; her finances were high but the season of Autumn's events made the future questionable. When one should be saving she would still spend for Leland's wages, important patronage, and a human soul if necessary. What they didn't know was they were too late. They wouldn't find the young woman in her masters or mistresses care...instead as she wound her way through the market, her groom, ladies, and guard in tow it could be said one almost lost Eirian. Dear Lord, she thought the poor relic seller was harming the street performer so famous to everyone! Or maybe Breanna was harming him - the woman was gnashing her teeth, kicking, a force of nature! "Hurry, goodness what is going on? Put down that woman sir, I say unhand her this moment! Unhand her or I will report you to the watchmen for prison!" (d)

Deva

Deva turned her gaze towards the people gathering, the commotion not even bringing an upward lift of the head for the pair negotiating her price. She watched Breanna and then the approach of the Lady and her entorouge((sp?)) only to be jerked forward roughly and pushed towards the Auctioneer. The Lord tipped his hat to the man and wished him a good day. He sneered at Deva, " I hope your new Masters find a better use for you then I did." His look was almost considered evil as he turned and strode away not even paying the Lady Eirian a greeting as he pushed through her gathered servants to be on his way. Deva jumped as a cold steel shackle was secured around her tiny wrist, her hand almost slipping out of the too big vice. Shortly, to her dismay, she was being drug through the crowd and away from Miss Breanna and the Lady she did not know and yet instinctively knew would help her if she knew what was about to happen. (d)

Leland

Leland had definitely shared with his Lady, his worry and concern for the young woman's well being. He told her everything that had happened. How Deva's Lord had t ried to strike at him, how her Lady had called the guard on him, and how Leland had offered Deva a way out, but was refused. The dirty blonde male may have at one time lived on the darker side of the world, but he was trying to become a changed man. To do as he could and perhaps to make up for all he had done wrong, starting with Deva. The groomsman walked with his Lady Artisan and kept steady with her pace. When arm or hand was needed, it was offered. When room or space was required, he provided it. As they moved through the crowds, what had grabbed her attention, was now drawing his. He saw what was going on, and well, now was where he regretted not beating that man down to a bloody pulp. "You see Lady... see? They treat her as if she were rubbish..." His jaw grew tight, the muscles were tense and he was ready to march forward and snag Deva free. The look in his eye may have given warning of his readiness to act out and do just that. [d]

Breanna and the Relic Seller

The Relic Seller had no idea what the gypsy woman was saying, because he didn't speak a shred of what she said when no English was used, all he knew was that the woman was going to lay him out. When the noble said put her down? He all but dropped her. Then she kicked him in the shin, wagged her finger at him before stalking off to the noble woman! At least this one she knew. This one, with the white flesh and jewels for eyes. This gadje had never been like others "They sell her! They sell her.." Lack of English began until she shook her head to make English stick. Gadje didn't speak Kalderashi. God damn it. Where was Peregrine when she needed him? The groomsmen, emphatic to her cause, earned Breanna's agreement "Dah, dah! Her lady and lord they hit her..see! Now the chains like a slave you must stop it? Yes yes!" Power. This one had what she'd come so close to having near a member of the gentry. So bloody close until the Autumn and the fall from grace.

Eirian

"Please, please I can not hear everyone at once....I will try. So help me.." She moved around the emphatic gypsy and the concerned Leland "Leland, please make sure that Mistress Keelan does nothing to upset things further..it will make it worse." Blue eyes acknowledged the amber-eyed one. The two of them shared a common thread of desired murder, no doubt. The small hands wrung in themselves as she came round to the front of the stage with her retinue in place. What was this platform, people lined up yet the girl the only one shackled? Did they think she would run away? "Sir what is this, know you that slavery and slave tradings are illegal by the crown?" He turned around to say that it was 'right' and 'legal' for these weren't slaves. All save Deva, the poor had come with too much debt and would pay it off to the owed by working within families or without, sacrificing all for the benefit of a small few. Expression transitioned from indignant to aghast. Yet this could not be within the law - the practice was not unknown, but to auction off human lives to other ones. It was a thin veil for the same despised practice. "Mark my words I will see that his majesty knows of it! You remember the name Apollius.." How many asked the same question, only to be presented with papers of his right to do so. It was sickening. "Run you back, Lady Lisa, hurry. Run you back to view the ledger to see what might be spared for the love of God woman run." She all but pushed her off. One life was worth so much. Yet she had many lives to care for now, to feed. A province to fund.(d)

Deva

Deva came to a stop when the man was pulled up short by the Lady Eirian. She listened to the exchange and watched them carefully, she began to hope sweet hope when she realized the woman's intention to stop her sale or buy her herself. She had also spotted Leland. Her eyes grew wide with surprise at seeing him agian so soon, and felt the urge to go to him, knowing when she was near him at least she was safe. She even started to move off in that direction only to be almost violently jerked back to stand beside the man who would seek to sell her. She squeaked and stumbled falling first into the man beside her then bounced off him and into the Lady just as she was sending her maid off to do her bidding. She appologized profusely and blushed deeply. All this fuss over her, had she not caused enough trouble? it would be just her luck and the King and Queen would find out and send her packing for all the trouble she had caused (d)

Leland

Leland was furriess. He boiled like hot steel on the inside, but tempered and calm on the outside. If anyone was good at masking things, it was this one. Leland continued to walk with Eirian until she wished to be ahead of him. When his Lady bid him to hold back the Gypsy, one might wonder who was to hold back the groomsmen? For he was as ready and as willing to assist both the Artisan and the Gypsy in bringing down those that were involved in this so called legal affair. The dirty blonde stepped up, gently letting a hand come to the shoulder of the Gypsy woman known as Breanna. "My Lady.. please... do as the Lady Artisan asks? Make not this situation worse?" Here he was asking this woman to do the very thing he himself was having difficulty with. Blue eyes peered from beneath the wispy strands of dirty blonde. He was struggling to catch a glimpse of Deva's face as the crowd continued to grow. Was she well? Had they lifted another hand to her? God help them if they had. Just when he thought he might be able to control that urge, he saw how vioeltnly they had jerked her and that set him off. He took several steps forward, pushing aside those that were in his way. Would he be stopped? Who would be the brave soul to try? [d]

Eirian

"Yes m'lady, yes!" The guard was sent back with the young woman to clear the path, for Eirian still had her escort and a pair of necessary hands in Leland. Her heart beat in her chest; for a woman who could create Elysium with one paint stroke there would be no way to paint living beings out of their hells. She looked up to them; farmers, peasents, children all waiting to be given away for God only knew how many years! It was deplorable, for they came of their will yet went out like chattle. Farm animals to be prodded in to pens. The world was not as beautiful as her portraits nor her poetry, the world was still dark, wicked and cruel. For every advancement the realm embodied there were still those who showed the underbelly of the world --

Breanna

"How it not be worse? What not worse than this? They would call me witch or whore, but Rom not do this to one another. This..gadje..." It was why she had no truck with their Church or called up to their 'God'. She did as he bid her but the shoulder he held shook like an earthquake that ought be underneath their feet. Amber eyes seemed to burn gold, flow like molten lava inside only made intense by the black khol liner. Where was Peregrine? She would have paid him to all but spirit the child away to the under-dark. "I will curse him. You will see. I have more old thorns an dark bramble." At this rate she would revert to selling curses. Unlike the relic seller who had turned his back to return to his business, those would be potent. Stupid Gadje. Where was Conlaed? Alas the Prince of Fire Eaters was only a book-binder today, selling his penny pages at half a penny if necessary. He would have soothed her -if he could have seen.She began to talk to Leland in Kalderashi as if he understood. Poor Leland. (d)

Deva

Deva stood there for a moment half crouched to gain her wits about her then looked up her red hair framing her face her bruised cheeks enough to make others flinch as they looked at her. The Aucitoneer glaring at them all because he could not go about his business with such a ruckus going on. It took several moments before the frightened girl stood as tall as her mere five feet would allow and looked at them all. She wanted the sounds to stop, the yelling the anger. It would be her hand against Lelands chest that would hopefully stop him. She would wait till his eyes met hers and then she would speak softly. " I am not worth you getting in trouble over Sir Leland." her eyes held sorrow and fear for what might happen but her stance was finally calm. In her mind if she were calm so would everyone else become calm. She would accept her fate whatever it was but she would not stand by and let someone she knew get themselves into trouble on her account. (d)

Leland + Breanna

"My lady please slow down...my lady. Please, speak common once more.." Leland could by no means fathom what the woman was saying. It came across all mish-moshed language, furious foot stomping, jingling of bangles and bells. He lead her further away lest his assignment come to an end. The more the auction man spoke things like "A good girl, pretty, able to dress your hair or mend your clothes, lace a bodice aye? lady's maid or if all else scullery maid. Scrub your floor, peel your vegetables. Make ye a good stew..Her debts a pittance, a pittance n' the wages would go to tha, just a little at a time for you and years worth of service. Come now. what say you sir? Madame? A girl for you. For your daughter as a companion. Look after yer bastards." Wasn't he just delightful? The more Breanna looked at him the more she wanted to grab his heart in her hands until it burst. --

Lisa

By the time the maid was halfway to the castle her breath was beginning to fail her. On the climb up the steep incline she all but pushed herself until the gates opened before the Apollius banner. There was no time to speak to the ones who gave greetings. She tore through the castle in order to go to the wing where her lady stayed, in order to look in the all-important ledger of expenses. No, they were not destitute yet even for the high born times could become a trial. "Please, oh please my God..." She prayed, tearing through the book now to see how it balanced, what might be spared (d)

[Deva Rose Cowen]

Leland

Leland was determined to put a stop to all of this. Determined to take Deva by the hand and lead her away from all this nonsense. Take her and hide her somewhere until things calmed down and well, if he had to, he'd take her back home to her papa. However, as he had tried to plead with the Gypsy to not make matters worse, and felt himself slip into that state of mind where he himself was about to throw all rational thoughts out, Deva had managed to come close enough to try and stop him. Her hand against his chest, her sweet gaze staring up at him and her lips pleading with him as he had with others. He sighed, he was fighting with himself deep within and the struggle was a hard one. He knew what the right thing to do was and how he could silence all those that needed to be silenced. He had both the wit and the skills for it all. Though, as he stared down at her for as long as he was allowed, he seemed frozen, unable to carry out any of those thoughts. As noisy as t he crowd was, as chaotic as it was, it all seemed lost. [d]

Lisa

The money she gathered was wrapped up in a cloth, no time to see it to a proper purse. She didn't know if her Lady would spend it, but it was what could be spared for a life. What of the wages after, though? Would she seek to somehow break the indentured contract? So many things hung precarious in the balance..

Eirian

Erstwhile the Lady in question watched, listening as numbers rose and fell away. A price. A price on life itself in the form of a young woman. It was callous and wrong, this way. There were those who might honorably be indentured yet for how long? This was little more than legal slavery! To be so bound like a creature that would run if it had the chance! "Do you see Lisa?" She whispered to one of her guards who craned his neck back, shaking his head.

Beathag

Lisa's delay was wasting precious time, but it was because of how she was within the castle; cloth clutched between weary fingers, gasping for breath she hardly caught with tears in her eyes which drew the attention of the Queen's majesty as she passed through this hall on her way to her own Solarium for respite. It was no coincidence that the aparments of the Apollius or other elected friend were close, or within the East Wing. Lisa was humiliated, having tripped and bumped in to Beathag's arm, lowered herself to ask of forgiveness. "Child wot on earth is the matter fer ye tae look sae, worry nay on offendin me come. Come tell me..are ye nay one o' the Lady Eirian's women?" (d)

Deva

Deva stood there at the top of the stiars as far as her chain would allow. Her hand pressed to Leland's chest her eyes on his. The sounds around them faded as she searched his gaze and witnessed his inner struggle. She heard the words around them accentuating her qualities, and the bids that rose. She frowned as she realized that there were acouple of people in a bit of a bidding war. But she did not step away from Leland, and prayed fervently that the auctioneer would not jerk her away from him by those chains... She knew that if that happened there would be no stopping him. It was as if time was frozen and all movement stopped just the noise of the people clamoring for their bids, clamoring for her release. Suddenly that fateful jerk came and she was dragged nearly halfway across the stage that had been set up. She yelped in shock of it and landed in a tangle of skirts on her backside. The Auctioneer, not knowing his very life might be in danger with the action, glared down at her then half dragged her to her feet and pushed her towards the edge of the floor almost close enough for the crowd to touch and paw at her skirts if they so chose... She did not look at them, instead she looked back her eyes resting on the Lady Eirian, then on Breanna, tears swimming in those amber pools. Then her eyes came back to Leland and she prayed he would not do something rash that would land him in some serious trouble. (d)

Leland

Typically, Leland wasn't a man that wanted to draw attention to himself without just cause, but here and now? There was reason and he was willing to make a sacrifice. As they seem to lock eyes for that moment in time, he could almost feel a moments peace. However, it was short lived as the chains were jerked and pulled her away. Her gaze torn, her touch vanished and the dirty blonde male blinked as if coming out of some sort of trance before he realized just what had happened. He knew then and there what he needed to do and with an apologetic glance to the Lady Artisan, he spoke to her with his eyes, knowing what he was about to do could very well land him in the dungeons. With a stealthiness, with lightning quick action, he leaned forward, reached for the sword of a nearby man and pulled it free from its sheath. He circled, avoiding any body or frame and swiftly swung the blade to cut the chain that connected the auctioner to Deva even as she landed on her bottom. The tip of that blade came to rest at the side of the auctioners throat. "If you know what is good for you, you will not look, touch, or think of doing anything else to her. Because so help me, if you do... you will lose your life long before the first man will attempt to pry this blade from my hands in hopes to save your worthless life." There was a darkness in his eyes, a storm forming in the blue hues that told a tale of coldness that would shake nearly any man to his core. All Leland had to do was thrust the blade forward and the auctioner was dead where he stood. [d]

[Lady Eirian Gwenyth Apollius]

Auctioneer

"Stupid little chit," he growled under his breath before turning his eyes down on the little bit of money. Yes, she was only money to him. Pieces of coin or paper. A note in his ledger. "Ever consider ye not knowin' yer place is the reason your on my G-d damned block?" It'd all be over soon. People were lifted hands or calling out the little sums that made the world go round. Ah yes, all perfectly legal. All perfectly ---

"Eh, eh now!" He couldn't stop the blade on the chain thus freeing his property to sell from bondage and catching him up in the self same place. He laughed a deep, throaty thing bobbing his Adam's apple just shy of being knicked, "Get yer dog off me.." He called out to the tiny woman. No matter what she bid he would make sure someone drove it higher. No, he wasn't going to give the girl the benefit of a kind master or mistress. "Get yer dog before he finds himself up here too. Can get that a sentence eh? Want to be sold off, want to join her?"



Eirian

Her distress rose as high as the sums of money did. Her heart raced in her chest like wild horses. Did it run in time with Deva's? It was almost too much to watch this farce of so-called legality when all it could be was a masquerade of slavery. She shot up her hand, her voice. What was Lisa going to bring? Not knowing the amount she was still determined to circumvent the inevitable - until.. "Leland! Leland no!" She choked on her words. The crowds advanced on the stage to feel the hem of Deva's skirts or to watch the mutiny of the lower class who pulled a threat against his 'better'. The auctioneer's fellows began to call out for the guard. Already, the sound of their steps was advancing to the platform. "Leland obey me and put down your arms! With one swipe you become as low as him, heed me for all our sakes!" The words of his lady cut through the crowd somehow. Suspense. Would he, wouldn't he heed her? Then her eyes even looked to Deva, paralyzed in her own circumstances as if to say Why are you not running! What on earth is the matter with you? It was all going beyond the point of control. She was pushing at Deva's ankles for her to step back as the crowd came closer, Eirian pushing her small body in "Get away from me I will press a charge GLADLY on you." She conveyed, to find it stalled a few hands. Why not, why not wait? It'd only be a matter of time at any rate. Already the watch was in place with fingers being pointed to Leland.


Lisa


"Your majesty I am sorry, forgive me please?" The woman sobbed now even as the arm of the Queen came around her. There was talk of sitting, but she insisted against it, "No, no there is no time! M'lady bid me go as quick as I could to fetch money to by the poor girl" To buy? Beathag arched a brow at Lisa for it was not like Eirian to have ever, past nor present, purchase a life. Nor could it be done in the realm! A confused face was amended to an expression of shocked anger as Lisa fell in to tears with her tale of how Eirian's groom Leland pulled her to a place in the streets where a man had papers to conduct people in to indentured servitude, yet he chained them, harmed them. It was so vile a thing as to hurt the soul! Deva's story, a story that should have no consequence to the noble born or noble placed was told with such despair from Lisa over what occurred and such worry for having left the people in the street that it would change the course perhaps of her history.


Beathag

Eirian's woman was so overwrought that Beathag had to sit her down in order to hear the entirity of the tale, irregardless of her desire to stand. It seemed unlike the calm so prevalent in the household of Apollius yet not unlike the spirit to rise when offended. Indentured servitude was legal, but the system was terrible, broken. The story of Deva became the memory of Qynn, the tanist's daugher, now the daughter of the Argyll chieftain. Had not the trial occurred and all the sins of Alexander Robertson been called to question the good blood of a clanswoman would have been wasted in unappreciated, unpaid service until she was too ugly for hopes of marriage, too wasted to care for living any longer. A stage erected with lives paraded on it; her stomach churned bile. Lisa flinched in the presence of the woman's rising anger enough to emit a growl under the word's she spoke. She apologized quickly for offending the Queen but was bid silence with a hand. "Ye will take me tae this place, n'quickly." She stood erect and ushered the young woman on, calling ahead of them "M'CARRIAGE - PREPARE IT! M'GUARD ROUST ABOUT AT ONCE." The business would be unsavory, no place for a Queen alone. "Lisa ye will ride with me, n' point out where we gae."


Sooner rather than later, the royal carriage containing the Queen and Lady Lisa began to wind down the top of the mountain in to the city below.


Breanna

"You bad at following on counsel, Leland." Breanna stated the obvious with no care for how oblivious it could be for a person for what personage had she to truly defend? For Deva, however, she could embrace criminality with ease. At her hip were all the ever-tools of magic trade to make people throw their money or to assist a young woman. Ah, but time! Time to pick the locks, time to thrawt the guard. For now she erred on the side of the porcelin fleshed one's reasoning, "Think,make change tomorrow."

[Deva Rose Cowen]

Deva gasped at the flurry of action, she flinched at the sound of steel on steel when Leland's sword came down and severed the connected links of the chain. And then that blade was at the man's throat and she could not just stand there and do nothing.

She heard the horrifying words of the Auctioneer, she stepped back from the noisy crowd.. Her eyes wide, her heart racing, her mind a whirl. She moved so that she could put her hand once more on Leland's shoulder. Her eyes pleaded with him to lower his sword but she knew he was not even looking at her, his focus on the hated man who would sell her to the highest bidder.

In her mind she heard a tiny little voice that whispered, "Sing, sing the song of angels Lass ." She started at the thought wondering briefly why that would even help but then she remembered the silence that came over a room when she sang for the Lord and Lady. Perhaps that would work now.

Softly at first a soft tune started to slip past her lips, a soft humming, a sweet sound. Some started to look around to see where the sound was coming from. Only the closest to her would realize it was her own voice that started to lift in an old celtic song, a lullaby. She held her fingers to her lips to quiet them encouraging them with her gaze to get others to do so as well.

Soon her voice rose, sweet and melodic filling the air crisp and clear. Even the guards that had come forward with a threat in their gaze headed to releive Leland of his sword stilled their steps and let their gaze rest on the tiny sprite standing so close to danger, freed to run and yet instead she lifts her voice to sing. A tender lullaby, a sweet song of butterflies and flowers, and lost love finally found.

More and more people quieted down, the bidding stopped and even the Auctioneer stood dumfounded as this girl, nothing more then a ragamuffin, nothing more then a poor blacksmith's daughter, nearly brought the entire crowd to a standstill with nothing more then her voice.

As she sang she moved between the Auctioneer and Leland. Her hand on his arm in an attempt to lower it from the auctioneer's throat. She smiled softly, reassuringly to this man who had twice taken up defense of her, who had twice threatened the life of another so she would suffer naught. And now she sought to save him from himself really, by placing herself in the direct line of fire. (d)

[Breanna Keelan]

The top of the mountain was a hard, sharp point. A girl in chains cut but still self deafeated with a hero set for the dungeons whilst a noble woman waited on baited breath for a lady to return with the funds to release a young woman with red hair from bondage. You would have thought it a play, really, if this weren't real life. It was the best sort of theater only that real flesh and blood hung in the balance. While Deva neither ran or Leland slit a throat, Breanna wondered just how it would all really end. Could this matter? It wasn't that she was for the taking of liberty but if one had not the moxy to take some for themselves, always would they be fettered. Looking at Deva it was easy to imagine in vivid contexts the girl chained to her false belief in the lack of self worth. Poor child. Poor lot of gadje. Poor them all.

The crowd grew irratated in the gathering enough to pull apart. Groups became thinned out save only for the most determined bidder while others milled around to watch the noble savior get arrested. The Winter One was getting offending hands away from her with threats of the same. That was when as if inspired by the Gods the girl opened her mouth. No, it wasn't words of a great speechmaker or even the plea of the desperate. It was a song the likes that stopped the market only now a wider crowd. Guardsmen wondered at the display, mystified. Power was inside of the throat enough to weave a spell of sound, ah yes, Breanna believed. She believed well in the power of a woman's voice with no intention for it to ever be silently...merely..honed.

"Well, little one," she mused with a soft laugh for none to hear, "that is the way you take fate in to your hands eh?" On streets now lower than the mountain a carriage was rolling towards that that would indeed come, as if it were summoned, to change the course of it all. For now she merely took a moment by sliding out a stray stick found by her boot at the auctioneer so that he stumbled backwards in his awestruck gaze on to his fat arse. It was equal parts useful to disuade Leland's blade a moment and humerous because she enjoyed watching the fall of the vain.

[Leland Corwin]

Leland heard the cries, heard the shouts. Some encouraging him to slit the mans throat from ear to ear. Some crying out for justice seen for the future of others would still be swinging in the balance. His eyes were a furious dark haze, the stare so cold, so harsh. If looks could kill, the man at the end of his blade would have been twelve feet under rather than six. He struggled to listen to both... to kill or not to kill.

His chest was remarkably calm instead of heaving in and out with deep breathes. The man had nerves of steel. His temper still needed work it seemed but when push came to shove... Leland never backed down. The Auctioneer had pushed and shoved one to many times and the dirty blonde wanted to see an indefinite end to it. Not only so he could no longer hurt Deva, but others.

Leland knew that in most cases, this man would get a warning, nothing more than a slap on the wrist and he simply could not allow that. At the sound of Deva singing, he stood and listened, becoming someone at ease, but not fully. Leland's eyes narrowed as he ushered Deva aside and just when he looked as if he were about to remove the blade from the mans neck, he stuck the man in his gut like the pig he is with a dagger that was pulled from his side just moments before the Gypsy woman had tripped him.

"That's a warning... if I see you alone in these streets again... ever... I will cut off your nose, your ears, cut out your tongue and sever those things to which make you a man. I'll let you live a life of suffering because killing you would be to easy and to lenient of a punishment." The dagger remained in hand, stained with blood. "You will suffer, but it will never amount to the suffering by those who's lives you have bought, traded, or sold."

The sword was dropped, his dagger dropped and slowly he turned to the crowd who was now not only mesmerized by Deva's singing by the actions that had followed. Did this make him a bad man to want to see the end of a man who did nothing but play with people's lives? Judgment was sure to be cast by many...something Leland was afflicted by on a daily basis despite his new life. For the past was always there.

"I'm sorry Deva..." he said as he looked to her and then he looked to the crowd to find his Lady. She too would get an apology, but it would be through his expression both upon his face and within his eyes. Did he walk away? Run? No.. he knew the guards would be placing him in shackles soon enough and march him away. At least its what he was expecting. It would be ludicrous not to.

As for the Auctioneer, he should live. Leland had stuck him precisely where he had wanted, avoiding any major organs or main blood supplying arteries. Let the pig bleed a little. Let it be a reminder his life can be taken and done with just as easily as those who he had toyed with.

[Deva Rose Cowen]

Deva's voice rose and danced on the air as she sang her voice cutting off sharply as she was set aside and the knowlege of what had just happened hit her. She moved out of the way of the clutching hands of the Auctioneer as he fell on his backside clutching his side, blood seeping through his fingers shock on his face.

She looked to Leland and heard his appology. She understood his need to protect. Understood why he did what he did and so she could not be angry with him. It was not just in protection of her, but of the others that stood at the back of the stage in stunned silence. The spell her song had woven now fading, the crowd still unable to move and quiet, one could almost hear a pin drop.

She whispered softly. "It's alright Leland... " Forgiving him even as the guards started to close in on both of them again, the chains dangling from her wrists rattling as she stepped closer to Leland both to protect him as well as to be protected. It was strange how that worked, how that trust had formed. Her eyes traveled past the advancing guards. She offered Breanna a reassuring smile seeing the look on her face when she realized that despite it all the guards seemed intent on taking them both into custody now, she looked then to Lady Eirian, hoping she would forgive her groomsman for his role in this.

She closed her eyes finally and silently prayed for a mirical.

[Queen Beathag Aberdeen]

"This way, my lady, and this.." She instructed, so with each instruction came her call of voice which lead the team of horses being driven. It was a precarious way to go instead of ambling down streets wide enough for the carriage one hoped, which would have been safer. It made for the occasional sharp turn. Poor Lady Lisa! She all but wrung her hands with nothing but the flesh to occupy the digits, continually touching wrist or palm for want of something better to do. Her duty, thus done, now rested oddly enough in the hands of the one woman with the power to make a difference where her own failed. The coin jangled, jingled now in the wrapped cloth so she thrust it from her seat in to the folds of her dress. "Tell it tae me again," the Queen insisted. Raising the Queen's ire had long been a dangerous practice down unto the days of her being only a Duchess. Hell, even less. "Tell me o' the thing again." So Lisa told the tale again of how they came upon, being taken by Eirian's groom and man of the horse, out to the streets where the Auction of the Poor was ensuing, yet the man treated it little less than a bevy of slaves for his pleasure. Talk of chains brought a very audible growl rumbling inside of the royal chest, seeming to make shake the silver chain of the Griffin about her throat clear down to her belly to tighten.

At the auction itself, the singing now a memory, Deva's purchased time seemed to come for nothing. The guards gently pried the girl off as they came to take the man who threatened the life of the auctioneer, causing civic disruption, or so they told him. He was being held tight by two men and Deva would watch it as they brought him to his feet and started to put the distance between them. A guard at least came to undo her shackles, yet was at a loss for what to do of the situation itself. He had seen such things in the countryside so put it to the man: "Finish your business, and then you will go. For it is not right to chain any, nor conduct yerself like a slave market." Yet nothing done of Deva's freedom. Servitude wasn't illegal, it seemed only her chain and treatment had been. So unbound, still waiting to be bound to another? The guard gave the girl a nod, standing off to the side of her as he would oversee the business be done seemly, another of the watch waiting to take the auctioneer away only on those charges. No doubt whatever came of this sale would bail out the bastard in his fees.

The world seemed bleak indeed. "Stay to yer feet," the watch told Leland, making ready to take him away. "It will go well," told the guard to Deva though her life still hung so precarious. The Lady Eirian was insisting that it not be done, but the men said they must do as the law allowed and upkeep that law no matter who petitioned them otherwise, for who was better than the law? They said it would be no hard thing to come for her groom out of prison if she had intention to purchase the girl. Surely the girl now, they said, would be given to a seemly lot to be cared for while she worked. What of the money surely it would not go to that bastard for profit? On this the guard could not say though said for his own charges surely his fees would be high and so then he would have no profit unless he wishes another fellow to count his coin for him while he sat in prison. She couldn't look at them while Breanna merely crossed her arms, shrugging to the pale one as if to say what expect you from the world?

Surely, none of them expected for the carriage of the royal to come to a halt on the edges of the gathering. When the footmen came down to open the door, when the leather boot followed by the emerald hems of familiar favored shade disembarked one man talking of the scene before them swallowed all his words and bowed. It was a contagious thing, until it reached the front of the stage with a word of 'Tis the Queen, the Queen!" She turned up her eyes to the stage. One girl was free of her binds with a precarious future yet others were still forced together or bound. The sight alone so enraged the woman when she inhaled the air her nostrils flared. "Tis as ye told me, Lady Lisa," she began in a low tone to the woman beside her, "Get ye tae yer Lady now. Ye've done enough my girl. Get ye tae yer Lady and move her, that any of my court should be by such disgrace n' filth, have their eyes abused by it digusts me. Tha' m'people should be sae bound disgusts me further."

It was hard to tell what her mind was motivated to do, for the most clear and present thing on her face was the most dangerous: Indignant, fierce anger.

[Leland Corwin]

There was a sadness in his eyes as he looked to both Deva and the Lady Artisan. He knew that even if he was forgiven by each of them, he would still have to suffer other consequences for his actions. He looked over the crowd, some were still amazed at all that had taken place while others looked as if it were nothing new to them. When the guards stepped forward and toward him, he held out his hands, palms up, but slowly letting his fingers curl closed. He was awaiting the shackles.

Though as he prepared himself to be taken into custody, the sounds of gasps, of whispers, of astonishment were heard and he lifted his blue hues from his readied hands to the crowd where many were awe struck. His brows were furrowed and he leaned from one side to the other as it looked like someone was weaving through the crowd. He could see people parting like the red sea and then the woman that caused such a commotion. It was the Queen herself.

He knew if there was any sudden moves made on his part, he could end up in worse shape than he currently was in. However, as the Queen drew closer, he moved to a bended knee and bowed his head. He'd not disrespect her at any price, even if it meant the guard misinterpreted his gesture as an act of trying to escape and cause him to be seriously injured or worse.

Leland wouldn't raise his head nor his eyes until he was given permission to. Even a man like him who had nearly taken the life of another and who had blood on his hands wasn't bold enough nor stupid enough to disrespect the white hound. He had heard many tales about her. Why she was known as such. Leland was a man of knowledge and knowledge was at times a weapon, but it was also a shield. Protecting you in the most unlikely of ways.

[Deva Rose Cowen]

The sadness in Lelands beautiful blue eyes tore at her heart. She glared at the guards as they started to place binding chains around his outstreatched wrists. Not sure what she panned to do, she started to move towards them, wanting to stop them. It was a new commotion caused her to pause. She watched in wonder as Leland knelt on bended knee and bent his head.

She turned then watching as the imposing blonde woman made her way through the crowd, people parting ways to give her a clear path. By their reactions she guessed that this was the Queen she had heard about back in Iverness. Out of respect for the woman's station and the imposing figure she made as she walked towards the stage with anger clearly written on her face, Deva kneeled as well not quite sure how to show such respect to the Queen as she had never been taught. So she followed Leland's example only to be on both knees rather then just the one.

She bowed her head low but lifted her gaze just enough to watch the woman as she approached. She prayed silently that Leland would not suffer for his deeds this day, he had only been protecting her, and in so doing also protecting those shuffling at the back of the stage some already auctioned off into servitued others waiting still for their turn.

Amber eyes watched the Queen, studied her curiously. She was a beautiful woman by any person's standards, she carried herself with such pride and dignity it made Deva envy her. Made her want to one day be able to hold her head high like that and be proud of who she was, instead of scared to death of meeting another's gaze for fear of reprimand.

When Bess reached the stairs Deva dropped her gaze to the floor again and would not look up again until told to do so.