| To parry with words |
| Summary: | A meeting between Sir Gustav and Lady Elenore |
| Date: | 06/Sep/2013 |
| Related: | None |
| Players: |
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| Wolveshire Castle - Main Courtyard |
| The main courtyard is relatively large and open, and the ground is cobbled to avoid an excess of mud and dust. When entering from the gatehouse, one can follow the wall along the right toward a small well-tower that houses the freshwater source for those living in the keep. To the left of the gatehouse, a long two-story building houses the stables, the barracks, and the infirmary in three distinct but connected sections. Hidden in the corner created by the main keep's stairs and the adjacent curtain wall, the cobbles give way to hard-packed dirt that serves as a training area for the castle's guards. The smithy stands directly to the right of the practice arena.
Between the barracks and the main keep, a gently sloping walkway connects the main grounds with the garden courtyard. To the left of the gatehouse's main entrance a wide stair leads into the keep. |
| Fri Sep 06, 1329 |
The sky over Wolveshire is clouded and damp, the clouds hanging low with rain that refuses to fall, and instead permeates the air underneath with a clingy sort of humidity. Shade is everywhere, with rays of sunshine puncturing through every so often, but not enough to enjoy the day. It is perhaps no surprise then, that the courtyart of Castle Wolveshire is more sparesly populated than its usual state.
Uncaring of the sky's tidings and portents, there is one man, at least, who is not hurrying about the yard, trying to race the raindrops home - though the raindrops still haven't even begun to fall yet. He stands off and to the side, leaning over a stone barrier close to the entrance of the keep, a cane resting against the stone to one side of him, unused.
Hurrying is not a thing a Taniford does often, they simply move at a pace that gets them where they wish to be, precisely when they wish to be there. And that is perhaps ever more true when it comes to Lady Elenore, the wispy and slightly ethereal creature that is more often put out of mind then given much notice. At home within Wolveshire, once home of her husband, the woman appears from the direction of the garden court wearing a dress in the color of deep blue. A scketch pad neatly tucked under her arm as a bit of charcoal is twirled about with her other hand, with the occasional drift as if she uses it to draw on the very air itself. "Come now, Mitner, the day is not so gloomy as you make it out to be, and there is of plenty of time. The patterns leading the rain have not even come."
Voices do catch the resting man's attention, but they come from a direction he has poor vision to…so he must turn himself about fully 90 degrees to see who it is. And the result, it might seem, would please him, but only if one was familiar with the subtle ways that Gustav looks less displeased than he normally does. "My lady Elenore," he greets, dipping into a bow as befits her station. "It is not so strange to see you out and about today, is it? And whatg essence are you capturing this /fine/ afternoon?"
A drift of movement, a change in the patterns of the mostly still courtyard do have Elenore following them to their source, a brief curiosity in it all. But then the source has voice and so speaks, drawing Elenore in that direction which seems not to please her guard with how his scowl deepens, but then he is ever scowling. Bowing her head in turn as her light tones come,"Sir Gustav, and it is not so strange to see me about. The air is fresh and there is always need for fresh air and a walk, moments away from the confining of the walls." Her lips quirk to a smile at his question,"There was a lovely pattern within the garden, it is fading with the changing winds upon us, I had of hope to study it further before it was gone in full, even if not to fully capture it. For that is an ever hard thing to do, is it not? It is as if to try and capture up a single breathe. "
There is a slight breathe before a gentle sigh, soon followed by a mildly apologetic look,"But I babble surely beyond what was only politeness of an inqurey. Do forgive me, Sir. " Elenore giving an apolegetic turn to her smile before asking,"What brings you out this fine afternoon when so many more seek the warmth of the halls?"
The dour steward gives an amused "Hm," of a chuckle at the Royal lady's assumption that he did not truly care - and perhaps there is some truth to that, but he is rarely polite for its own sake.
"Think nothing of it, my lady; we must all seek to study certain patterns before they are lost to us, even if our designs are not all made of charcoal, no?" His cane is taken up, and his eyepatch adjusted, before he continues. "Ah, but I find myself with a spare hour between necessary preparations for the Princess' day. I thought I might enjoy some of that fresh air of ours…and I'll be damned if I won't enjoy every bit of it I can, before the rains come. How dare the sky notbend itself to my schedule, and all that."
"It is a truth that is lost upon many, even if they seek to be of understanding a pattern and unrealizing this is what they do. Ink, charcoal and paints do not make of a pattern, but simply seek to capture of it. The wisps and the winds, the…ah…there is simply ever so much that is truly behind any pattern." Elenore lightly shifting the sketch book a little before the hand with the charcoal falls back to her side, the occasional twitch of a finger as it seems to 'chase' after something. "It is good to take advantage of what time one can, always unknowing if the time will come again for such pursuits. Ah…but of course it would not, such a schedule is but ink upon paper, a tiny swirl so easily to be carried away by a wind or washed along by the very rain who's patterns are ever greater than our own. "
There are many and more in the court who might balk at such philosophical chatter that borders on the metaphysical. But to Gustav, at least, it is something of a pleasant change of pace than the usual drivel of clinger-ons dressed as courtiers. "Strike whilst the iron is hot, as the smiths say,"the cyclopean Sollinger notes aloud, "Or else some other way of describing the necessity of opportunism. I am glad to see it is not lost on you, perhaps, my lady, as it seems lost on so many. Do…capture what of your pattern you can. At least some pursuit of the day will not be wholly wasted," he chuckles shortly again, "Unlike my own."
Balk or simply try to flee in some polite fashion, or not so polite fashion depending upon their political standings. "Oh there quite so many ways of putting it, and even then as you say, it is lost upon many. They have…" her hand giving a small flurish in the air," …blinders upon them as it is said. " Elenore gives a glance before a bemused smile slips to her lips,"Some of it is capture already, yet I think there is not waste of the day. You have had the fresh air sought and aye, rain is to come but it does not bring of waste it is simple a changing of the pattern, a new direction given, if perhaps unexpected. Do not allow the blinders to fall, Sir, and allow you to miss the opening the come even as others are closed off."
The broken knight's facade finally cracks, allowing a rare, albeit small half smile that might be a smirk had it been fully allowed to develope. His cane is set more firmly before him, both hands resting on it now, as he leans in a bare inch more to emphasize his next point. "Oh, you /do/ see /everything/ as an opportunity, don't you, my lady? Gods be good that you were not possessed of a greater ambition than the caputre of beauty in all its forms, or else that mindset might be a dangerous thing to be as openly against as others find it safe to do with you." A backhanded compliment, or a forethrown insult? Difficult to say with Gustav, but if there's anyone at the court who it might be interesting to watch pick that apart, it would be Elenore Taniford.
Hair drifts with the canting of Elenore's head as she studies Gustav with the words that come after that bit of a smile that has risked breaking his very lips with its rarity. Dark eyes looking through him as much as they look upon him in those moments, a hint of curiosity flickering. The words certainly being turned over as well as what is seen. "I see everything, not just off the opportunity, Sir. Though to speak of it all or ones ambitions is not ever wholely wise, would you not say? Just as it can be of greater use to be unseen when seeing so much, and allowing the missteps to fall, those so open to dismise or scorn will comes to have days in which they have deep regrets for these missteps of theirs. " There is a little smile before Elenore adds,"Though there is need for beauty to be captured, the patterns to be chronicalled even if few truly appreciate the need."
The tiny smile has not yet faded. "Oh, to be sure, my lady. But to /never/ speak of ambition, why…that would just be a waste of a certain kind of rare /opportunity/, would it not? Though of course, it is better to hold one's own closely, lest one end up among those who do misstep…and there are so many of those The blinders, I think, make it hard to see the uneven path before them. As to…beauty…let them mock for its chronicals. Even the safest thing to oppose can lead to the worst misstep."
"If one speaks and is not heard, then what is to be of saying what has been spoken, what has not? Becomes it not like it is asked - If the tree falls within the forest is it yet of making a sound even if none were of there to hear it?" Dark eyes yet look upon him as her own smile lingers, perhaps some bemusement that someone has paid her so much mind and for once not because of how finely she can dance. " There are times when the entirety of a pattern must be taken in, times when it is of a small detail that must be focused upon and given greater attention. For even a small stone can cause unbalance to occur……..And sometimes the greater beauty is that which is unseen, a pattern tended to with care and protected so it may remain unbroken and preserved for others to one day have. "
Sir Gustav's next comment is brief, dropping the eloquence in favor of a pointed comment. "And how many of those patterns have you yourself preserved, my lady?"
"I have not kept count, in truth, but they are many and yet few would think it of me. Some are beyond my ability and place to tend to, and others I simply aid in making stronger," Elenore gives a simple glance away before her eyes return to the man. "Opportunity and ambition are not of things always reaching for the highest and that which so many may seem to dream of, Sir. "
The smile does not fade, yet again. In fact, it now /deepens/ into that knowing smirk that it has always promised it could one day be, if daddy would just teach it a little more about life. "A statement which my lady /wholly/ embodies," the Sollinger steward remarks, before bowing again to show the depth of his meaning behind it. "How interesting that it takes a Royal to show her subjects the true nature of /noble/ pursuits."
Lips curves into a smile at the bow he gives, a gentle incline of her head coming in turn. "It would seem, Sir, to me that such is amongst the duties of a Royal, is it not? " There is a return of that smile, the flicker of the charcoal about her fingers,"Ah, but then what am I of knowing, but a girl who speaks of colors and patterns beyond the sights of others."
"Indeed, and that is all many may ever know my lady to be. More's the pity," the broken knight sighs, before tapping the ground with his cane.
It is at this most amusing of moments that a young man can be seen dashing from the other side of the courtyard, coming to rest in front of Sir Gustav, panting. "Sir! Sir, the stable boys have bungled your orders reading the Princess' mare…"
And there goes Gustav's ever-ephemeral smile. "The boys be damned, can't they get anything right? Come, Percival, we must…away to this…" he pauses, mid departure, and turns back to the royal that he's just left standing there. "Do pardon, my lady, but duty does call, from time to time. Would that I had some interesting way to weave this into our analogy of patterns, but I find myself quite…distraught, at the moment. Do think well of me," he bows again, "As I do of you. Good day, my lady…"
A small incline of her head is offered along with her words,"And some may find out to late, but it changes not that there are things beyond the sights of others that some see when so many do not."
Dark eyes drift to take in the lad who dashes in near breatheless. Taking in the need that seeks to draw the knight away and in fact does. "Without issue, Sir, I am knowing of duty, and oh how boys can be yet of learning. " Giving a ethereal drift into a curtsey to answer his bow,"I do think well of you, Sir Gustav and there is not need to find way for I see the pattern that you are distracted from. Be well this day, Sir."