(514-05-15) Flowers For Algernon
Summary: Two familiar faces meet in the castle garden of Carlion during the festivities and have themselves a long chat. Others make brief appearances.
Date: May 15th, 514
Related: None
algernon nalia cerys dywana 

Cerys is sitting on one of the benches in the gardens. She sways her legs slowly, and just
stares at one of the bushes. There is a huge, wide smile in her freckled features. A young
pagan is perfectly clean this time,but her red curls are still not tamed, sticks there and
there without any possibilities to calm them down. With a squared neckline, her gown is
black and appears to be made of silk or satin. Floor-length, the long sleeves descends far
enough to fully envelop even the hands, yet loose enough that simply lifting the lower arm
is enough to allow uss of the hands. The sleeves are cinched a little above the elbow,
leaving the upper part of the sleeve a bit more billowy. Fitted along the neckline, a gold
cord laces around the bodice under the bust and down to the waistline. A black ribbon
surdounds the neck, from which hangs a silved pendang with gold accentz, as the two metals
twist and spiral around each other in a decorative knot-like design captured within a circle
of silver with a matching clasp.

Coming from the south is none other than the Christian lord. He is dressed in his best
livery for the festivites consisting of a thickly furred dark traveling cloak and fine
quilted sable overtunic on dark woolen chausses, crimson thread forming the lattice. Its
billowy sleeves and hem sport heavily influenced Celtic embroidery, and it appears he has
recently washed but suffers from the same troubles as the Pagan: His sandy blonde hair
doesn't want to behave, despite it being considerably shorter.

He is absent his walking staff but it is repalced by a black lacquered cane with
silver top and bottom embellishments, including a resting lion statuette with semi-precious
stones for eyes to act as the knob. It clacks upon the stone pathway with each step, pausing
briefly as he bends to the best of his ability to inhale the scent of flowers before he
notices the lady Cerys from the corner of his hazel-blue eyes. He rises with some effort
before waving his free hand. "Hello again! It seems we have a knack for meeting
unexpectedly, Lady Cerys." Algernon would call to the Pagan.

Cerys jumps on her feet once she hears a familiar voice. The young ginger turns to the
Christian lord and offers him a curtsy, "Good day, lord Algernon. It's a pleasure to meet
you again. How was your journey here? I hope it was not too much tiring. Do you enjoy your
time here so far? Or you just recently got here?" She smiles warmly and politely. A gentle
hand of a breeze paints Ceeys' cheeks in light pinkish tones. The girl clasps her hands
behind her back and sways slowly, making the skirt of the dress sweep dusts from the ground.

Her eyes scan the man curiously and she adds more quietly, "You… ahm… look handsome and
this," she points at his cane, "Looks like a piece of art!"

A smile comes as easily as ever for Algernon as he inclines his head in a slight bow
for the lady in response to the curtsy, and before he can get a word in edgewise, she's
already hammered him with quite a flurry of questions! "It was rather uneventful, but I did
enjoy the view. I've only just arrived, but I am sure there is plenty to experience." He
explains softly, tucking his free arm underneath the veil of his cloak.

Upon hearing her compliment, the Christian looks down at the cobbled pathway
bashfully if but for a moment. "You are looking quite radiant yourself," and then she points
out his cane. "It does, doesn't it? It was a gift that I'm fond of."

"Oooh… It was a gift? It had to be a very expensive one, so from a person who is fond of
you, I believe?" The young woman's curiosity wins against all the etiquette and Cerys tries
to stuff the tip of her nose not into her business. She smiles broadly though as if to hide
this lack of ettiquete. Her cheeks turn slightly more reddish and she lowers her look down
for a second, mumbling a quiet 'thank you.'

"I should think so. I can't say I understand what possessed him to gift it to me, but I am
thankful all the same. Events such as these are the rare times I'll bring it out." Algernon
elucidates about the exact nature of the fine cane. If he was troubled by her curiosity, it
didn't seem to show, and he entertained her on the matter all the same before he shifts the
focus back onto general conversation. "What about you, lady Cerys? Have you been in Carlion

He would raise the question, taking the entirety of the woman in again for a moment
as he awaits her answer.

"Him? Don't tell me it was sir Glaw, who decided ro gift it to you on the way home," Cerys
bursts in laugh, "Of course, you two shared some lovely moments near the fire, while Arta
and me was away," she teases the man and looks up at the man. She shakes her head, "I came
here just a few moments ago. I was told that the Castle has a very beautiful garden. So, I
hurried here. When I am in larger cities, I always feel lack of nature, if you understand,
what I mean." The girl looks back at the bench, "Would you like to take a seat or that would
be too much trouble? We could walk too… But maybe I am disturbing you?"

Cerys' trilling laughter, along with her jest, is more than enough to widen the smile on the
Christian's lips. "No, I'm afraid I've had this cane for a long while, before I met with Sir
Glaw." It seems he is reticent on the matter of the benefactor's identity. "You shouldn't
say such things. I hear that he has intentions for another, and you may start some rumours
if a handmaiden overhears you." Algernon would chide her gently, but given the tone of his
voice he is hardly serious about the matter.

"I believe I do understand, and I cannot fault you for your reasoning. I believe we
can rest here, if you would be kind to help, but enjoying the rest of the garden is also a
splendid idea, as I believe I saw some primrose among the ivy." He leaves the decision open
to her.

Now Cerys blushes brightly, "A few rumors there and there, that's the life of the court! If
people do not talk about you, you do not exist!" She tries to give some arguments for her
former jest "Anyway, let's hope that sir Glaw will suucceed winning the heart of his beloved
one." She moves closer to Algernon. If allowed, she will try to wrap her arm around the
man's. This is done just to help the man to move closer to the bench, and she will try to
help him sit down, if allowed. But while doing all this, the young redhead will try to speak
about many random things. Maybe, she is just doing that innorder not to make Algernon feel
that he is getting help from a lady, "So, do you know, that lady Arta has her eye on a young
knight too? It looks like everyone have an eye on someone even that tiny bird," she points
at one of the birds in the gardens, "So, what do you think the King will give to his
knights? That is usual, right? The King gifts things to people during feasts, yes? If I
would be a knighg, I would ask my own land somewhere in the forest. Wouldn't that be fun?
But I will never be a knight. Horses do not like me as swords. But I am capable of defending
myself even without a fight. Don't ask how. It's a secret." She laughs.

There is no objection as Algernon links arms with the exciteable ginger, moving towards the
bench in order for them to take a seat upon it with care. All the while he listens to her,
settling into his spot comfortably. The cane is laid across his lap, and with that, his full
attention comes to rest on Cerys' face as she speaks animatedly about all sorts, and he
forgets that they are bound together still as a result.

"Is that so? If it is true, then that must mean you have an eye for someone as
well." The seneschal would tease of the girl with a robust laugh at her expense. After all,
if she were going to tease him, he'd have to return the favor. He continues on after a
moment. "I suppose it would depend on the knight. I hear that they ask for their own gifts,
befitting of their station. While you may never be one, a lady is invaluable to the realm
all the same."

Cerys' eyes grow wide, when the man teases her and she becomes so unusually quiet. This
tease reminds her that they are bound together still. So, she quickly withdraws her hands
from the man and mannerly places them on her lap, "I… just… Nah… I mean…" She tries
to find some proper words and suddenly just shoots, "You think that ladies are invaluable to
the realm all the same? What else we can do without forging alliances and giving birth to
children?" She does not look at the man right now. Her gaze is landed on the branch of one
of the trees in the gardens. Her cheeks are obviously warm

It seems that he had struck a certain chord with the woman; Each nuance of her features is
noted carefully by the observant Christian, her blush and her embarassment. A proper ribbing
has been given. Of course, her attempts to redirect things comes as a small surprise despite
this. After some consideration, it seems that Algernon has come upon his answer. Even if she
looks away, he is focused upon her face, hazel-blues shining as he recounts his thoughts.

"Certainly. It is the lady that keeps the realm when the able-bodied go off to
defend it. A hundred men can make an encampment, but a lady makes it a home. It is the
lady's beautiful countenance, her intelligence, her poise that inspires the bard's song or
the author's quill. There are so many things that a lady can do, that she can contribute,
that I would have to keep you til the evening to regale you with half of them."

Cerys raises her hand to fix her hairs pointlessly. It is impossible to fix them. So, she
just makes a bigger mess of her brightly red curls. She still does not look at the man, but
it doesn't mean she does not hear him. Oh, she does. Her eyes wander around the place now
like a super active child would run. She starts swaying her legs again. She is small
enough,that just her toes reach the ground, when she is sitting on a bench, "You are so
talented with words, m'lord. Did you ate a lot of honey in your childhood or it's an example
of long and careful learning?" Then she peeks at him, but briefly. Her gaze lands on her lap

Algernon recognizes the compliment, or perhaps it was flirting? Either way, it is not lost
on the man, and he too is forced to look at something else when she peeks at him right
after. It does much to disrupt the confidence that he had only a moment ago! His lips part
as if he intended to respond but the normally talkative socialite is lacking in words. It
seems there is a shy streak to him, and his hazel-blues look out among the ivy towards a
sleepy patch of celandines.

When the man grows quiet and looks away, Cerys stabs her gaze into the corner of his eye, of
which she still can catch a glimpse. So, the ginger starts staring at the lord, but she says
nothing, just continues nervously sway her legs.

If the Christian seneschal can tell he is being watched, he doesn't bring it to light. He
shifts somewhat in his seat, a hand upon his cane as fingers splay along its length
absently, rubbing against the lacquer while its counterpart rests on the bench between them.
As the silence lingers on for a moment too long, Algernon speaks again. It does not keep to
the usual composure that he has, suggesting it spur of the moment. "What would you do with
your land in the forests, if the Pendragon gifted them to you?"

Cerys beams widely, when the man speaks again. She slides closer to him and speaks in a
whisper, "It's a secret. Do you promise not to tell anyone?" She leans closer and her
whisper becomes quieter, "I would make a huge farm, where I would welcome all homeless
people. We together would build a new home, we would grow our own food, we would have some
animals. I would teach them how to survive not wandering the streets, but actually doing
something in order to get better." She looks around as if nobody sees them and adds, "And
when I would see, that they are doing just great, I would gift them the ownership. So, I
don't need a super huge land. Just enough space for our homeless people to create their own
littke village." She smiles waemly and stares at the lord to see his reactio, before adding,
"What would you ask of him?:

A small group passes through the gardens and to the Great Hall. Knights of a few different
manors and tucked inside is a lady dressed in gold and green. Nalia glances around and
smiles at something said within the group before they pass along.

Algernon would shift the placement of his hand when Cerys seems to move closer to him on the
bench, and she begins to whisper in his ear. Listening intently, he is unable to contain a
smile partway through and it remains even at the end where she's finished explaining. He
would allow his focus to leave the celandines of before, settling his eyes upon the ginger
fully. In doing so, he is remiss in noticing the passing group of knights and lady.

"That is a wonderful dream to have. I will pray that you can achieve it. I will keep
it secret between us." The Christian lord promises on that, all too eagerly, when he gives
pause at her follow-up questioning. "To be honest, I wouldn't know what to ask. I have
little want for anything."

Nalia moves on past having not noticed a house color or anyone that she might happen to
know. A soft husky sound comes from her voice as she shakes her head once more.

He looks straight into her eyes. So, she stares into his too. This time Cerys does not look
away. So, she can't notice a large group entering the gardens. She just shines like a ray of
sun, because she is happy, that the man liked her dream, "Thank you! If my brothers would
hear my dream, they would call me childish. They do not think, that I am. Usually I am all
serious and… like lady should be, you know!" She chuckles. All the time her eyes are set
on his, and she stays close, cuz she just recently whispered her secret into his ear, "So..
You are fully content with your life? You are happy?" She asks and flames of amusement may
be noticed in her gaze.

"I don't think it's childish. It's admirable, if anything. It doesn't hurt to let your hair
down, as they say, and be honest with yourself or someone else." The seneschal confirms
without hesitation, keeping with the long gaze into one another's eyes. The way that Cerys
lights up, it widens his smile before he continues. "I am, for the most part. There are
things that could make me happier, but they aren't something that can be given so easily. I
don't hunger or grow cold in the winter. Woodford continues to grow. I suppose if I *had* to
ask for something from the King, it would be something that improves someone else's life

"I knew you are one of the kindest people I happen to meet!" Cerys gently pokes the man's
shoulder and chuckles. Still staring at him, forgetting of a proper etiquette, the young
ginger continues the flood of her questions, "May I ask what things would make you happier?
You don't have to answer, but I am so curious…" She blinks and gives the man the look of a

It is early in the day here in the courtyard garden; Along the straightmost cobbled path
leading from the southern gate, and thus the market, towards the keep itself is a bench
nestled near to the pond that is situated near the middle. Seated there are two, a man and
woman dressed in finery and facing each other (at a close proximity no less) as they carry a

The man in question is smiling earnestly despite looking a tad bashful, likely in
response to a compliment paid to him. "I wish I could answer without sounding like a
hopeless romantic." He breaks down under her innocent eyes, admitting this if a bit quietly.
Well then.

Water! Ah it calls like a siren's song, though it could be the Siren's within that make it
so. Either way Dywana is stepping into the gardens, having escaped her brother for the
moment. A deep breath is taken from the tiny form and then a tiny smile appears on full
lips, as if she s remember some special memory. It is with this ethereal look that she makes
her way towards the fountain, as if yet, not even looking to see who might be around.

Cerys shifts just a little bit in her possition, but does not move away, as she does not
turn her look away. She likes the bashful side of any people. It just makes her ask even
more questions. So, she carefully, slowly tries to break through the man to hear the honest
answer, "Sentiments and hopless romantics color our world more brighter tones. If not that,
we would be bloody, muddy and grey, just drowing in a war. So, do not be afraid to show a
more sensitive side of yours. Each men have it. I have no idea, why they understand it as a
weakness. It is a strength, I would say. Anyone can kill, but it is so hard just to love
your enemy, for example. Right? I am sorry if I am a bit jumpy, but I hope you understand,
what I mean."

She bites her lip as if trying to hold up something. She obviously fails, because
the freckled ginger bursts in a loud and lively laugh. That is when she turns her look away
from Algernon, "I AM SO SILLY!" She expresses her thoughts too loudly for the whole gardens
to hear. She covers her lips with both palms. A few seconds of a peaceful quietness stands,
but then she looks back at the lord and adds in a whisper, "What I mean, is that I am doing
this again. I am brekaing the comfort zone of another person with my curiosity. My mother
always keeps reminding, that I can't ask all questions I want. I can't. Forgive me," She
looks honestly apologetic, "I hope that you won't see me as a childish brat, m'lord. It's
not usual me," she opposes for her own words.

The words that Cerys uses, they make sense. Algernon cannot help but nod slightly as she
explains her point of view, and in a sense, it does help chip away at his sheepish
reservations. Between her honest laugh and the rest, it seems to have put the Christian lord
back at ease once more. "You are quite silly, but I do not think of that as something
necessarily wrong." He puts forth a soft laugh of his own. His free hand reaches from
between them to touch a hand at her lap, patting it reassurtngly before it returns.

"I understand your point of you. For most intents, I wear my heart upon the sleeve
of my tunic as were, but some matters I suppose are inherently… deeply personal. The kind
that make you blush and hesitate, for instance." He gives the ginger a knowing look,
referring to the tease he had ribbed her with earlier in their time together, before he
finishes. "But, I can't forgive you for something that I don't even blame you for. I don't
mind in the slightest, I promise to you, lady Cerys."

Dywana has been lost in her own little world, that smile tugging and playing on her lips,
but it is the sound of Cerys's laugh that pulls her out of whatever or whereever she was. In
time for her not to tumble over the pair but make a mostly graceful swirl of blue cloak and
end up sitting on the edge of the fountain just a little to the pairs side. Her unusual eyes
sparkle with a hint of amusement and she nods towards the pair, but it's the water that
draws her attention, and the lingering caress of her fingers as they trail along the

Cerys flinches just a little bit, when the man touches her hand. Her look wanders to the
other side from him, where happens to be the fountain. The view of a lady in blue cloak
makes Cerys slide a little bit away from the Christian lord. Though, she speaks to him,
"Thank you for understanding, m'lord…" And she just stays staring at another person as a
svaiour from more embarassment. Her cheeks echo the redness of her hair like a mirror.
Indeed. It's just a mirror. Nothing more. No blush.

It takes no effort to be curious as to what draws Cerys' gaze even as she flushes so red,
and he lets their conversation peel off into silence as he turns in order for his
hazel-blues to alight on the woman upon the fountain's edge. His reaction upon noticing her
may as well have been instantaneous, as he lifts the hand that had, moments earlier, touched
the embarassed lady Tisbury in a slight wave.

Dywana blinks eyes that.. most seem to find interesting and then there is a soft smile
playing on the woman's lips. She dips her chain towards the pair and gives a soft haunting
laugh, "Do forgive me, but the water did call my attention, I do hope I have not interrupted
to boldly?" Her voice is lyrical, caressing and sweet, much like the scent that lingers
around her.

Cerys ooohs quietly, when she hears the woman's voice. Being honest, the ginger quickly
express her admiration, "M'lady, nobody but you should sing on the wedding of a King and
Queen. I mean… Your voice sounds so musical! I wish I could sing, but people ask me not
to. Well, people who heard me sing." She chuckles, "You are not disturbing us. Not at all.
Please, join us, unless you are more interested into the ball and all the gift giving

The Christian lord seems to nod along with this sentiment that Cerys expresses, especially
as he puts two and two together as to who the woman is and the house that she comes from.
"Yes, do join us. If my eyes do not deceive me, you are the sister of a Berwick St. James
knight, are you not?" It was a redundant question, but polite all the same.

The small woman gives another soft chuckle, a hint of a blush coming to her cheeks at Cerys
words, "Why thank you my lady, I am not sure if my brother would wish me to sing, as this
day is for the Knights and all they offer to our Kingdom, but it pleases me to hear another
finds it's pleasing.." SHe then glances around the fountain a finger trailing in the water
again before she gracefully stands and curtsies in greeting to both before settling down
abit closer this time. "Ah, yes, Sir Aeron Berwick St. James is my twin brother and he would
be inside showing the house to it's best advantage, I do so more enjoy being out where
nature is abit closer.." SHe nods towards the gardens before a soft blush touches those
cheeks again. "Forgive me, I am Lady Dywana Berwick St. James and it is a pleasure to be
invited to speak with you.."

"Oh!" Cerys brings palms to her chest, where the heart is beating. She puts one palm on the
other, expressing her love and explains it, "I prefer nature too. The walls of the castle
feels like some kind of frames, borders and it's harder to breath in there." She blushes a
little bit too, "But I am so subjective on the matter. My brothers and I basically grew up
in a forest. Forest is like the biggest Castle in the world!"
Since the lady is showing a proper etiquette, Cerys stands up too just to offer a
curtsy, "I am lady Cerys de Tisbury," and then she sits down on the bench. The young ginger
slides closer to Algernon, leaving a spot beside herself for another lady. So, when they all
three will be sitting on a bench, Cerys will be in the middle.

Ahah. It seems that Algernon had guessed correctly. He looks between the two Pagan women as
they recount their affections for the natural, and it draws another smile to the lord's face
before he chimes in. "And I am Lord Algernon de Woodford, seneschal of the Woodford manor
and steward for Earl Robert de Salisbury." That is quite a resume. "I beg your pardon. I would
rise to greet you, but my injury makes it rather difficult."

To elucidate, the Christian would lift a cane from his lap so that it could be seen
by Dywana; It is quite the instrument, black lacquer covered in silver top and bottom
embellishments. The knob sports a resting lion statuette with semi-precious gems for its

There is a huge pause when Cerys introduces herself, and the poor woman gets the total and
complete attention of Dywana. Yes that many speak as if they were otherworldly simply look
over the woman slowly from heat to toe. If she was male it might be a sensual caress and
anything can be taken that way, but she seems to be looking at Cerys as if she is trying to
learn everything by the simply touch of those every changing eyes. But the woman blinks once
and a soft flush rides high on her cheeks. "Sister of Haydn de Tisbury then.. " The voice
has lowered, the sweetness a pure caress and the smile that touches those lips after is one
of joy and greeting. "A pleasure to met you lady Tisbury. The forests around you home are
well known. The old ways shimmer brightly there.."

Dywana then breaks eye contact with Cerys to look at Algernon and simply dips her chin
gracefully, "It is a pleasure to meet you as well. Lord Woodford, I have heard your name
spoken and I am pleased to see you this day.." There smile is still there and it's clear the
Pagan Priestess has no issue with the Christian lord.

Cerys is not able to hold the look of another woman for too long. So, soon she just peeks at
Algernon, and then back at Dywana, and then she stares at some bushes, flowers, sky, birds.
But when the other lady mentions the name of Hadyn, Cerys eagerly pats a spot beside her on
the bench, encouraging Dywana to take a seat beside, "Come. If I may ask, how do you know my
brother? Well, he is the heir, and our family is quite famous," there is a tiny grain of
pride in her voice, "Is that all, or are you a lady-knight, who is wearing a proper gown
just for today? Well, a beautiful gown? Maybe you sparred with my brother? No?"
She turns to Algernon to add, "I am sure that she doesn't mind, that you are
sitting. She looks kind and understanding. No worries," Cerys pats the man's knees not even
understand she does so. It's automathic move, which ends quickly and the redhead folds her
hands on her lap.

It is not the young ginger's fault. It is not as if he had got into explicit detail, but her
pat is upon the knee that is responsible for the lameness in his gait, and as such, it is
receptive to the wrong touches. There is a slight shot of pain, but none of it flashes to
the lord's face and it washes away rather easily. It is all put aside for a smile presented
to either lady before he manages to slip a little further along the bench away from Cerys,
ensuring that there is plenty of room.

Dywana settles gracefully next to Cerys, the scent of a summer storm among wildflowers
clings to the other woman's cloak and perfumes the air around her as she gives the softest
of chuckles. "Oh, no nothing like that, I am honored to be as a Priestess of Dawn and the
old ways, just a simply lady who from time to time can be graced to bring dawns light to
those around.." She admits with a wink and then those little teeth come to nibble on her
lower lip. "Ah, I meet him many years ago. And.. last eve for the first time in many a
moon.." Like 9 years. But this isn't voiced as her attention is pulled to the moving Lord
and then back to Cerys

Cerys does not even notice, that Algernon moves away from her. A cheerful lady has her look
fixed on Dywana for now, "My uncle Mathias would love to talk to you. He is a very religious
man, and he could speak about religion and the old ways for days! I am sure you would like
his company, and he is still not married!" A wink is give. And then a second wink, "Don't be
afraid, that he is old. He is… Well… in the best years of his. The age is not like the
most important thing and…" Cerys sighs. She turns her look away. The young woman stands
up, "I believe I shall go better. Just to rest my mind. So, if you both will excuse me," She
turns to the pair on a bench, "I would like to take my leave. It was a pleasure to meet you,
m'lady," and then the redhead looks at the man, "When we will run into each other again,
huh?" But that is more a rethorical question through which she expresses the fact, that
Cerys enjoys meeting the lord.
She offers a curtsy, and leaves, if not stopped.

The lady Cerys is not stopped, of course, and the lord Algernon finds this the moment where
he takes his leave as well, bidding farewell to the lady Dywana.

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