It began at the coming of dawn, upon her rising above the Black Mountains tall, sending long shadows fleeing westward.
And it is the only morning where ... everybody is up to watch her rise, waiting, breath caught, looking to the horizon from rooftops and second floor windows, despite the cold.
For the moment she peeked into the sky ...
The commons of the Dragonstooth burst into life. The first hint of sun streaming through the windows and the doors were flung open. Breakfast set out, a;; warm and toasty; the fire stoked into a warm roaring blaze, the daughters carrying big platters already setting out breakfast for the guard, the Jvrillians, the townsfolks, goodwives and their husbands - well perhaps not, because technically, by tradition and years of practice, there were no laws to bind anyone to anything come Midwinters and Midsummers day.
It was very rare that folks hurt each other on this holiday. It had occurred, in the past, maybe once, maybe twice, even the smallest villages have such tales ... but to have a whole community turn on you ... it served as a very grim object lesson of what not to do upon these two special days. The gods and goddesses tok a dim view on such, and it was even rumored that it included not just Krysta and Jagnar ... but those even more fel and exotic.
For those in their rooms; it was the noise that woke them. The days before, their chores out in the town had been completed, crossbows bought, sheriffs spoken with, rakes teased and teased back. The Heavy Horse even returned; but after sunset, walking their horses back in by torchlight, the tall gates closed securely behind them.
The noise of a crowded hall, of tankards of beer and ale lifting in toast, of a squeak when a pat of thanks was perhaps a touch inappropriate - at least this early in the morning - and -
Hidden deep within the Tarn, quiet in her vale, there is a place which sparkles come night, so sing the Dall Gwynn tales.
She stands on columns finely carved, and laced with softest gold, marble of warmest honey spun, and wrapped with crystal cold.
Minstrels. As in plural As in more than one .... adding music to the morning. That and the rough noise of tables being darwn back, perhaps, even to ... dance!
However, the morning itself was not without its events.
Hung from the latch of Daxia's door, there was a soft black satin pouch, both beautiful and trimmed in silver. It was the perfect size for carrying doublebluff tiles. It had a red bow tied about it; though the Dayallan had seen much better bows from her days in court. Or to be truthful, there was a great earnest of intent to the bow, but it looked like it was tied by a clumsy child.
Camelia found a set of brushes hung from her door, awkwardly bound in red. they rattled when she opened her door.
Dean and Bekkah found themselves with matching scarves ... long and soft and so very very warm against the winds of the Storm Season. Bekkah's was white and cream, the beautiful shading so subtle and the Squires? Red with gold trim, of course! it would not have been surprisng if the Squire discovered his by tripping over its twice his height length. Ladies, of course, are more careful with their step.
Kadri's was the largest, or at the least the most cloth, sturdy broadcloth, almost the size of a blanket. but not for her! Well ja and nin ... it was a caparison, all in black with black leather fittings and dark metal hardware ... as if someone thought her horse should be as sneaky as she is!
Sitting on the floor outside of Cesare's and Darian's room there were boots! Footwear both but so very different. One set, obviously for the Rhoni, were sturdy walking boots of heavy leather with wooden heels and heavy fur trim around the tops. The Hunter's would come high on her calves, soft leather, supple and comfortable and with long strong laces. The soles were heavier leather; perfect for moving through the woods on a hunt, where feeling the terrain beneath was so important. These two were wrapped in red ribbons, clumsily tied and happily off balance.
Oh.
And one could not forget the small sack of apples ... or the very big ribbon wrapped bone.
For unicorn and snarkhound.
There was nothing for the Jvrillian, however.
Until he eventually made his way down to breakfast.
"Yo!
"You are Mikal, right?"
It was the the smith's apprentice.
"I know most folks don't care for you down at the hall these days, but someone paid us good coin. You get the time, and we're to put whatever you wish upon your shield."
There was no card, nor any sign, of whence the gifts had come.
Where the fire-haired lady wakes, above the fallen stars, They chase the dream they call Dall Gwynn, She strays men quite afar.
She was woke by the sniffing and wuffling the snarkhound was doing at the door. She looked over with a bemused expression before slipping from Cesare's embrace and the warm bed.
"What be it?" she asked leaning down to scritch him. "Something you want be out there? Let's see, eh?"
He pushed her aside to snap up the bone and retreat back into the room. She laughed at his antics, but her laughter was cut short buy surprise as she spied the boots.
"Aye, and a fine Midwinter to ye too," she said as she picked up both pair and closed the door with her foot.
Up before dawn as usual, Daxia found the gift on her door as she headed out to her morning devotions... devotions that, as always on Midwinters morning, were shared with everyone willing to brave the icy cold of such an early part of the day.
She touched the fine smooth satin, ran a finger along the silver trim. Looking at the inexpertly tied bow, she smiled. “Happy Midwinter, friend. Hope like gift find from Dazi.”
After devotions... before heading to the common room for breakfast... the Dayalan went down to the stables to visit her partner. Seeing the small sack outside Morning Star’s stall... tied with the same clumsy red bow... she grinned broadly as she picked up the sack and untied the bow.
“Hmmmm...” she mused, looking inside, “very nice apples. But are these apples a fierce and magnificent unicorn wants? Such a difficult question to answer!”
Waking to midwinter's day brings the expected bout of melancholy memories. He sits for a few moments on the edge of the bed reminiscing, then with a sigh he dresses and heads downstairs for some breakfast. As he walks down the hall he notes the midwinter's gifts on some of his traveling companions doors and smiles wryly.
Reaching the main room he is about to sit when the smith's apprentice approaches. An eyebrow lifts at the offer and he asks, "Any idea who my gift giver might be?"
He considers that he does carry a shield. He rarely uses it, mostly on those few occasions that he wields his broadsword instead of his short sword and main gauche. It is currently unadorned, but he knows exactly what he wants on it.
As he waits for an answer, he quickly sketches. "A Charge of Winter rose, dripping blood tears, from Fess Point to Dexter Base, on a field sable. The motto, starting in Dexter Chief to read "Memoria", in Sinister Chief, "Est", in Sinister Base, "Vox".
Shortly after Daia, Kadri enters the stables, carrying a caprison for her horse,she is humming a somewhat mischevious sounding tune to herself, and has a sort of half- smile.
."
Last edited by Art in the Blood; Wed 19/12/1201:43 UTC.
She loved the Midwinter celebration. She loved the music, the dancing, but more than anything she loved the smiles she saw everywhere. Smiles on faces that might not smile more than a day or two a day.
She hugged her scarf to her face, feeling it's softness before standing before a mirror, wrapping it around herself to see how it looked. Her smile grew even brighter. It was of course too warm an item to wear within the inn but it would be quite welcome when they traveled from here. And she knew they would travel.
She descended to the Common room, smiling and greeting everyone she saw, especially the children.
Reluctant to emerge from the warmth in the covers, he is alreadt stirring though as he feels Darian slipping out of bed. He reaches for her to playfully pull her back in but his fingers close on empty air.
As she calls back to him, he props himself up on one elbow.
"Gifts? From whom?"
He is puzzled for a few moments, before he hits his head with his hand.
"It is Midwinter. I had thought to get you a gift but with all that has been going on, I forgot."
He actually looks dejected. And reminds himself that he doesn't have any money left either.
Dazi had looked up from the bag of apples when Kadri entered the stables, then grinned at her partner as she placed the apples on a ledge within his reach.
“All the apples are yours!” she said cheerily.
She then made her way back up to the commons...
(This player had the post nearly finished when it was pointed out by another player that said other player had changed their post, rendering the post already written and nearly finished either null and void or rather rude; but since this player is entirely too stressed out by work and the frackin’ merry bah humbug xmas season, this player is just going to go ahead and pretend aforementioned other player never said anything about a changed post and will leave this post as originally written and nearly finished with this parenthetical rambling monologue inserted to explain why this player has ignored aforementioned other player, all in an attempt to get out of the stables where we never should have been, and get up to the commons, where it is VITALLY important we place ourselves, so as to make the GM happy.)
...where she passed Mikal in conversation with someone from his Guild, and wound her way through the celebrating town folk to the table where Bekkah sat and slid into the seat beside her.
“Happy happy happy Midwinters, Bekkah!” she said, hugging her sister. “The only thing that would make the day better is if we were celebrating in Dawnview. But Dazi is with Bekkah, and Bekkah is with Dazi... so happy day!”
Kadri works her way back to the common room and slides her way into the booth with Bekkah and Dazi, looking at each, lingering on Dazi for a second, the shakes her head almost imperceptibly and pats her pocket. Whatever she had been thinking of apparently could wait.
"Good morning, she rises bright and crisp today ..."
When the Hunter appears in the common room, she is wearing a contented smile and new tall boots with her regular linens. An equally contented snarkhound accompanies her, his new prize carried proudly. She looks behind her just before entering the room fully and crossing to the table of friends.
"Bright morning," she greeted the others as she sat down.
Her face lit up when she saw Daxia and hugged her back fiercely.
"And a happy Midweinters day to you little sister. I didn't know if I'd ever get to say that to you in person. It feels so good to do so." she said still holding onto her little sister before giving her a kiss on the cheek and reluctantly letting go of her as if she wanted nothing more than to pull Dazi onto her lap and rock her like she did when she truly was small.
"My Lady! Love of my life, the apple of my eye, mysterious, beautiful, charming, with the spirit of a wild wind and a countenance that would stop Her very passage across the sky, of whom the stars cry sparkling tears in jealousy and admiration ...
"My dear ... "
The door to the Dragonstooth commons is thrown open, it bursts, it swings with all highest drama and intent, to silhouette a most dashing and swashbuckling fighre. The wind whips through his hair, tossling even more derring-do than any Knight of Rames could wish, his cloak snapping and swirling as if it were alive itself. And such a contrast is his tunic; snowy white with key patterns in gold rippling around hem and cuffs and the oh so fancy keyhole collar, and it sparkles in the morning light ... not simple thread no ... but could it really and truly be ... gold?
It is his surcoat, however, that causes the sudden gasp, the step backwards, the clearing of the path. While the coloring isn't Imperial, it still is the checkerboard of peerage, of those upon station high.
Purple and argent, the most noble of colors patterned with that of a mirror smooth lake.
" ... Sea and Stars ... that's a KORIE!"
One grand step, a second and then a run ... a hop ... and he lands upon his knees in a long slide, as befits a returning Prince, as a champion from the most romantic of minstrel's tales, the heartfelt dedication of passion that must certainly be true, that will be remembered for generation.
He comes to a perfect stop, looking up to his Lady, deftly, properly, and irresistibly and with the most mischievous of sparkling eyes and High Court charm, takes her hand in both of his to press to his lips,
" ... not even the waking of a Dragon could keep me from you, my Lady, my dear, my pretty ... to see you is to live life fulfilled, and your name is a prayer on my lips ...
"Kadri djinn Khayriyah al'Terilaquel!"
Though for a handsome suitor, he is kind of ... short.
And familiar.
It is like stopping a hurricane, unstoppable, and Kadri is not given a moment, a heartbeat, not even half a breath to respond before Dominic Dominie Korie sweeps up and around her, a hand upon her waist, set into the small of her back, whispering sweet nothings - oh they MUST be so fine and dear - as he draws the dark haired lady to him,just like two lovers meeting upon a most auspicious day!
"Of course it's Midwinters! What better a day for two pounding hearts to be together ... how the fates have brought us finally together at last - Against the damnation of your Father and the machinations political of My Brother but even the most Noble of Khoralls and their Damas cannot stand between two who are meant to be together - but the Fates have brought us here, upon Our Midwinter's day, and being blessed by the presence our kind and merciful Lady Bekkah Yurisdotterr - a Priestess of compassion and kindness - the binds between us can never be severed!"
And then there's the kiss ...
A dip ... a sweet and so passionate embrace ... in front of EVERYONE ... and from the entire tavern eyes are bright, some are tearing, some are sparkling, some are just just trying to lift their jaws from the floor and there is a single, wonderful ...
He finishes sketching as the man talks and pauses as he considers. He's not gotten anyone a midwinter's gift in a dozen years. Never, since he left what remained of his village and the ruins of the family home. It was always a somewhat melancholy time for him as it brought back many memories of happier times. For that matter he'd not received a midwinter's gift in the same amount of time. The man's description can only fit one person, and he'd not interacted very much with her. So little, in fact, that receiving a gift from her surprised him.
It also makes him feel obligated. He knows that is not exactly true, but still, he feels that way. He glances around and notes that as was her habit she has slept late, and it being midwinter's day no one would wake her.
So he thanks the man, points him to his shield, and quickly leaves the inn, before eating. He knows most places are closed today, but some food vendors will be open to serve revelers. She has a sweet tooth as he recalls, so he searches for a vendor of candy and sweets intending to buy a bagful of the man's best choices and try to hang it on her door before she wakes up.
iAnd leaning back into it, she actually gives him a rather ... thorough ... return kiss. She leans towards Bekkah and ... winks at her?
"My dear, dear Bekkah, remember that conversation we had earlier? I thank you so much for agreeing to make my heart complete. You are doing a service to the world and to true love. My father be damned, I will follow where my heart leads, and will follow where it goes, and what is tied can not go asunder."
Then she goes into her native tongue, spouting something that sounds poetic while gazing ... Longingly ... Into her 'suitor's" eyes.
Bakhubi hamcho mah tabindah baashi; Bamulk-e dilbari paayindah baashi. Man-e darvish ra kushti baghamzah; Karam kardi Ilahi zindah baashi. Jafaa kam kun ki farda roz-e mehshar; Baru-e aashiqan sharmindah baashi. Ze qaid-e dojahan azad baasham; Agar tu hum-nashin-e bandah baashi. Barindi-o bashokhi hamcho Khusrau; Hazaran khanuman barkandah baashi.
Last edited by Art in the Blood; Thu 20/12/1201:14 UTC.
As her favorite rascally scamp swept into the room, the Dayalan mirrored the Sheriff’s posture from a few days ago, face buried in her hands. “No, no, no... Garrick not want to know. DAZI not want to know,” she muttered.
But when Kadri did not immediately skewer the young Lord, Daxia peeked at the couple between splayed fingers.
And then, after a few moments, when it was clear Kadri was wholeheartedly playing along with Dominie’s game, she heaved a great sigh of relief, dropped her hands back into her lap, and leaned against Bekkah.
He ambles into the common room following late in Darian's wake, also sporting new boots, just in time to witness some over-the-top romantic declaration of love.
Is this the person she is running from?
Can't be.. she looks too happy.. and that kiss!
Not for the first time Cesare feels he must have slept through more than a day.. or stepped sideways into another world where reality has warped somewhat. He pauses in the doorway for a moment considering...
How can one not turn and watch when another makes such a spectacle of themselves, and quite purposefully too. The Hunter's attention is taken by the arrival, and she watches quizzically as he publicly woos their Amberite. She does not know what Kadri had said in response, but she seems to be enjoying the attentions. With a shake of her head and a shrug, she goes back to her fast breaking. City folk are quite strange.
“There is very little in this world more wonderful than the sight of true love. Ah, Bekkah, isn't it lovely?”
Daxia smiled brightly and pointed out some of the room’s occupants.
“Look! There are even minstrels here to write songs of this most auspicious day, and the songs will spread far and wide and be sung by every young lass waiting for her prince... and sung by every young lad hoping to be that prince for the lass of his dreams.”
The redhead sighs again, the picture of perfect happiness in seeing one of her dearest friends finally reunited with the true love of her life.
She leaned close to Bekkah and spoke very softly. “That Dominic is a theatrical little scamp, but this should solve some of Kadri’s problems.”
Sitting up straighter again, she looked at Kadri with a broad, and perhaps slightly mischievous, grin.
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