(514-05-22) A Dance in the Rain?
Summary: A meeting in the castle gardens of Carlion. Childhood friends have a talk. Maybe a dance?
Date: 05-22-514
Related: Wilton Gets Owned
iwan isyld 


Clouds gather overhead, as if to threaten a spring shower on the tourney. One late comer is Sir Iwan, household knigh to Lord Knight Earc of Wilton. A regular there, still a regular. When Earc came to joust and make good on his luck, he is one of those chosen to come with him. He is not in the tourney for now, so only walks with tunic and sword at his side. Slowly through the gardens. He thinks he felt a little drip from the heavens above, amidst looking at some specimen of a flower, he pauses, looking up curiously. Then self conscious, did anyone see him looking at the flowers, a brow raises as he looks around curiously now.

Of course someone saw him looking at the flowers. It was a law if there was something doing that was embarrassing, someone was going to see it. This someone even happens to recognize the looker of the flowers. Walking over, she's dressed in the trappings of a lady, since she is not doing anything tourney related. "I saw Lord Knight Earc in the competition. I wondered if you had come with him." A smile is worn for her friend and comrade. "And here you are even taking the time to stop and smell the flowers."

Of course he looks up, she catching him first, that hint of rose to his cheeks. Then a slight smirk, knowing he is caught, at least its his friend. "Yes, I've little better to do Sir Isyld. Some of us here on duty, I'm with my lord's retinue." Guard duty, go figure. At least he's off duty now. "How did he do, he was hoping to place well in the joust?" Keeping the first topic, then a shake of his head a sigh, "More, how are you doing here, enjoying the competition?"

"It has been interesting here. There are so few axe wielders, though the Dinton knight I crossed blades with is very, very talented. A self confessed romantic knight as well. I think it most interesting to meet others and attempt to learn from them." Isyld finally closes the remainder of the distance. "A Knight from Bishopstone bested him, unhorsed him. It may sting so be prepared for the return trip. I should like to travel with the group were it be allowed, since I am going home to Chalke anyway."

His eyes watch her approach, perhaps soft on her. She may know he is not overly spoken much himself, not like some, certainly not like her in a number of ways. "I can only imagine, he'll be harder on the rest of us when we train now too." A slight chuckle in thought from the words she gave him, "Does that sort of defeat the purpose, would a romantic knight be so by self proclomation, or would he much rather let his tales speak for themselves?" He reaches to pick a flower, not caring who's garden it is in the moment. He is more commoner than knight, sure his father was a knight, but never a land holder like the manor knights. As if to offer it over, he lifts it up, shrugs. He trusts her as friend, wouldn't want to jeopardize that no matter what his eyes may say when the look at her. Its offered noncommittal like at least. "For your next challenge. A mystery suitor, from Gaul if you like?" Then another pause, "I'd enjoy your company on the way home, you can tell me of all the adventures you had here in Carlion …"

"Mayhap he will be harder on the training, though he is the Lord Knight and being so commands the respect that comes with it." Isyld drifts nearer to him, the dress perhaps dragging the ground as she does. "I don't know," a smile plays over her lips then at the suggestion, especially after the flower is offered out. "Does this mean you're a romantic knight without self declaring it?" Accepting the bloom, she lifts it to her nose and inhales softly before twirling the stem, watching the flower turn slowly at the gesture. "A mystery suitor from Gaul? Not a childhood friend from Wilton?" Looking up from the flower, she tilts her head gently to the side, "I would enjoy your company as well and telling you all about the injuries I have incurred since arriving."

There is a sure nod from Sir Iwan. That would be the Lord Knight and tougher he might be, but Iwan accepts every once of it for the simple honor to serve as his household knight. He agrees with her, but then she teases back a little. And he knows her teases, that one nets him a little hint of smirk and rosey cheek once more. A brow raise even. She was sublte with it towards him and it was what he liked, less forward flirty for certain. "Perhaps I am. Well intended, my goal not to be romantic but to see the lady smile, that is more important than the glory of being a romantic knight." That seems to ease his sense of the situation, less about him at least. Ah, given a choice. "There, see, the suitor from Gaul sounds like romance amongst the ladies of Wilton. But a childhood friend is better to me. Less unknown at least in him. Could the friend ever be a mystery?" A slight turn back at her even. "Hopefully none too bad, or at least every nick and cut a good telling in itself."

"Oh yes, a good story in each cut, each fall from the horse in the joust, each failure I have felt. Each success, even if the successes are so few and far between." Isyld speaks of her failures, the teasing nature of herself even hints at the chagrin behind them, but there is no self pity there. "I will learn from my mistakes and move on, perhaps becoming an even better knight for it." The return question brings a warm laughter. "Could the childhood friend be a mystery? Perhaps? Though I would never presume anything for a friend."
—-

The grin softens were it played at a smirk, those his eyes showed, not ill intent with the quirk of his lips towards a smirk even. He thinks he feels another drop, a slight patter, as if a drizzle may come just yet. A slight blink from that kiss of the rain, but he focus on her, happy with her play between losing and learning from that. "You are a better knight because you move on and want to be better." He affirms, supportive at least. Then he looks from one eye of hers to the other, curious at her last questions. "Without presumption then, could he be a mystery and yet be a friend. I would dread to ever lose that which you have given me Sir Isyld."

Isyld also notices the drizzle and she tilts her head back to look towards the heavens, another smile curving along her lips and she follows it with soft laughter. "I think this is getting caught in the rain." Returning to a slight seriousness of his question, a light blush rises into her cheeks yet she doesn't hide her gaze from his. "Without presumption, I would imagine a friend will always be a friend. I would hope so at least. However, suitors, I find myself a serious lacking of them. I am a knight. I assume most knights are seeking a lady to raise their children and be home tending the manor. Perhaps that is as it should be, I would never begrudge the lady that, for it is their lot in life. Mine is fighting Saxons." The grin she wears is filled with orneriness of course. Another droplet lands on her cheek and she laughs, looking back up. "It is beginning to rain.. should we take cover or should we dance?"

A tilt of his head, and a glance skyward, Iwan concedes agreement. Better caught in the rain, then stopping to smell the roses it would seem. "Then, we are caught." The lightness of his eyes as she gives her presumptions is telling of his agreement! her friendship paramount of course! regardless of thoughts fostered away so where from when they where squires together. He looks away, at an ivy covered wall of Castle Carlion. The vine showing its new growth of green with those spring rains, ready to conquer more of the wall this year in it's spread. An eye finds her again on saxons, the orneriness noted. But serious curious at a lack of suitors, as if a surprise to him. Taken a little even. "I would be the last for want to stand in the way of your fight." His grin growing, trying to decide what to make of her and the rain. Breath drawn, "Seize the moment, I couldn't refuse …" She becomes the mystery, but he doesn't leave it all to her. Hands find her, pulling off the main area, where are some trees that don't cover, and an old well. Where they can really feel the rain.

Isyld also notices the drizzle and she tilts her head back to look towards the heavens, another smile curving along her lips and she follows it with soft laughter. "I think this is getting caught in the rain." Returning to a slight seriousness of his question, a light blush rises into her cheeks yet she doesn't hide her gaze from his. "Without presumption, I would imagine a friend will always be a friend. I would hope so at least. However, suitors, I find myself a serious lacking of them. I am a knight. I assume most knights are seeking a lady to raise their children and be home tending the manor. Perhaps that is as it should be, I would never begrudge the lady that, for it is their lot in life. Mine is fighting Saxons." The grin she wears is filled with orneriness of course. Another droplet lands on her cheek and she laughs, looking back up. "It is beginning to rain.. should we take cover or should we dance?"

A tilt of his head, and a glance skyward, Iwan concedes agreement. Better caught in the rain, then stopping to smell the roses it would seem. "Then, we are caught." The lightness of his eyes as she gives her presumptions is telling of his agreement! her friendship paramount of course! regardless of thoughts fostered away so where from when they where squires together. He looks away, at an ivy covered wall of Castle Carlion. The vine showing its new growth of green with those spring rains, ready to conquer more of the wall this year in it's spread. An eye finds her again on saxons, the orneriness noted. But serious curious at a lack of suitors, as if a surprise to him. Taken a little even. "I would be the last for want to stand in the way of your fight." His grin growing, trying to decide what to make of her and the rain. Breath drawn, "Seize the moment, I couldn't refuse ?" She becomes the mystery, but he doesn't leave it all to her. Hands find her, pulling off the main area, where are some trees that don't cover, and an old well. Where they can really feel the rain.

"I think you would not stand in the way of my fight. More, I think you would stand at my side and fight." Isyld gives a bit of a whimsical smile and tilts her head back as a raindrop lands on her head amid the castle gardens. As his hands find her, the flower she held is lifted and tucked behind her ear, into her gathered curls so she may give of her other hand. To the side, she turns with him and smiles, taking his hand and resting her other hand on him as is proper for a dance. "Our first dance was the Tournament and feast several summers in Wilton. Do you remember?"

Failed.
You check your dancing at 5, you rolled 8.
Success
Iwan checked its dancing of 8, it rolled 7.
Failed.
Iwan checked its romance of 10, it rolled 11.
Failed.
You check your flirting at 3, you rolled 15.

"I would gladly stand at your side," he admits as they move about amongst the now falling rain. Somewhere that hint of drizzle collects, for a slower steady fall of a light shower. The plops could nearly be counted as they find the leaves around them, making a music perhaps. She can see the smile on his face as the flower finds her hair there, "Ah, there is the beauty of that flower." It needed her to set it off. Its off kilter, the compliment, but that smirk on his face. She may know he means it, but the smirk is to throw off that he is complimenting. That leery step around their friendship, but she may see between the lines. He takes her hand and she may be unsteady. "I have you, I wouldn't let you fall." Softly spoken, then the thought of that dance, when they were squires. "I was nervous, you were pretty then, as now. I thought I'd step on your feet the whole time. It was only a couple, more stories of your wounds?" She is collecting them at this tourney even now, she said she's tell him on the ride home.

A dance in the rain it was, even if the drops were more sporadic than steady and it was warmer out, the wintry cold right now would be almost debilitating with the moisture in the air. "You are a strong fighter, I would stand at your side in any battle." The dance of the sounds of the rain bring a warmer smile than the whimsical one from earlier but her cheeks turn a lovely shade of pink at the compliment though she does continue meeting is gaze. Her steps are off, perhaps it was the touch of his hand or even possible she was not a good such a good dancer! "I was nervous then, though not now. I know I need not impress you with dancing skills for you to be my friend, to be my confidant."

"We would make quite the team, " reflects Iwan as they move gently under those cool drops. One hand pulls up, something in that blush of hers is drawing to his fingers. As if to touch her cheek, a brush, but modesty sways his fingers. He corrects the gesture to brush some hair near that flower, keep it in place. To let him see her ear, the hint of warmth is felt as he brushes over it, pulling his hand back to where it was on her for an appropriate dance of course. Good dancer or not, it is lost in this moment with her. "I might still be trying to impress," he grins himself a little at that thought, his eyes coming from that hair he brushed to meet with hers yet again. A slight nod of his head, "You need not impress me at all to be my confidant Sir Isyld. I am glad for each day we find ourselves together. So what of this lack of suitors, as a friend alone, I cannot let this be. How does one qualify?" He uses the friend word, but its an afterthought for that moment, to not be as forward as he might sound otherwise.

Thinking he was going to touch her cheek, Isyld tilts her head slightly and smiles when he refrains, she laughs softly, feeling his finger tips at her hair instead. "Are you, Iwan? Are you still trying to impress me? I could have told you many years ago it wasn't necessary, I hope you realize that." Who else was she closer to? Not even her siblings, really! "And as with me, you have no need to impress me to be mine. Have you not heard every story I have to tell through the years?" His question catches her off guard. "A suitor? Qualify? I don't know that there's a list of qualifications. I don't know that I've even considered having a suitor. I've always just been that gangly girl that acts like one of the men."

Hearing her words, is he trying to(?), Iwan lifts his head to catch some of those drops of rain letting his eyes close and feeling the rain fall even on his vision there. A slight tingle of sensation, a plod of white then blue and then darkness as if vibrations were actually scene, but only in his mind. They open then, as his head lowers to find her eyes again, and listen to what she says. That is part a nod, he might still be yes, needing the rest of her words to settle over him with that rain. "I have and would hear them all again," true enough, and he smiles when she starts a story he knows the end to, growing as she tells it, enthralled right along with her. In part her enjoyment of recalling the story even and her own interest spurring that in him. "Its a step," to just ask to be a suitor, "But you were never that gangly girl, you were always the flower. Maybe no one else saw it, but …" He rolls his eyes, playing it off, but yes, he's always thought so. "More than that flower, your blade is admirable, as is your …" Looks, beauty? His eyes speak the words his mouth does not find in that moment.

Watching him tilt his face towards the heavens, Isyld smiles to herself, just enjoying the pleasure he takes from the simple raindrops. Or was he buying time? Either way, when he opens his eyes and looks back to her, the smile turns more outward towards him. "I look forward to tell you the stories of the tournament since before you arrived with Lord Knight Earc. "It is a step, but that is not solely to me, my dear Iwan, there are politics involved. It is not my place to decide my eventual or possible suitors. So as for now, this gangly girl will dance with the most handsome and charming of knights of Wilton, and enjoy the fact he does not mind who trods on his toes." Still, her eyes meet his with warmth.

He can't wait for the travel home and those stories she will tell. It is the later that captures more of his interest. Perhaps why he was always slow to say how he might feel, politics where always there. He was not from one of the manors, he came from a household knight in Wilton, crawled up to be one himself. Or his family did, struggling to get him where he is. "That place matters not to me, who may say aye or neigh, Sir Isyld." He admits freely to her, nother turn, enjoying her smile, the rain like a blanket maket this their moment in that garden. "And there is no assurance my voice would be heard by those who have th place to say it. What matters to me, is if the gangly girl would accept the pursuit." Then he softly says, "You are my confidant, Sir Isyld, I want each tomorrow to be a dance with you. Would you allow me to speak with your family?"

"Perhaps then you will equally regale me with stories of your own adventure with Lord Knight Earc on the journey here. I would be most interested in listening to what you would have to say about it. To the happenings along the way." Isyld turns with him, dancing with him, perhaps slightly lost in that dream land of musings. The question brings her back down from the rain clouds she was dancing on and she looks at him, startled at the question. "To speak with my family? Of.. a marriage between you and myself?" It seems to have caught her by surprise and there was no immediate answer springing to her lips but confusion, oh there was there in her eyes! "I have only just been knighted, would you not allow me to do so, to serve my liege lord, before I would be home with babies?"

"I would gladly tell you what tales I have, though few they are," agrees Iwan as they spin in the rain. He remains in the dream land beyond the clouds. The spring drops but motiff to his fancy for the moment it would seem. Its not so much a shake of his head, but a softening of his eyes. Not dejected, not put out either. A deflection of a sorts as they turn again. "I would allow that and more, it is not my choice, but I do not see you home so soon to swaddle a newborn. You are meant to ride forth, against our enemies and foes. I would be remiss to even suggest to rob you of that. But to speak with them, that we may still be confidants without worry of another to come along and be arranged and take that from you as well." There is even a little chivalrous honor in that, protecting her from some unwanted marriage even, but yes, interest there, it has come from him finally. "I will take nothing from you, but see you be yourself, free and adventurous, the gangly girl with the charms beyond any queen." For him at least.

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