Completed Tea Time with Helena: Faramund

[Helena]

A chill wind blows through the Vale, the sky is overcast and a crisp rain pours down upon the land. Still, it is pleasant enough as you approach the Wyvern's Nest. Inside, you are greeted by fire-warmed air, the scents of fresh bread and aromatic teas full in the nose. At a table by the fire sits the captain, her proud white cloak darkened about her shoulders with the rain fall. She looks up from the menu and waves to you.

“Faramund!" she says, and motions you over. “I've already ordered the tea!” she smiles as you approach then goes back to looking at the menu. "Only, the desert is giving me some trouble," she says, almost a little too seriously as she stares hard at the paper. She hands you the small menu as you sit down. “What sounds good to you?"

Pastries:

Custard Tartlets: Small bite sized tarts, with a crust that is as buttery as it is crispy and flaky. The egg custard is sweet and creamy, with a bit of caramelization where the fire has bubbled and burnt the sugar, ever so.

Honey Cake: A cake of many layers. Decidedly moist, with a simple yet satisfying frosting that tastes of wild flowers and creme. The body of the cake is constructed in six tiers of spongy and sweet cake, lightly spiced to bring out the more subtle complexity of the honey.

Chocolate Chunk Cookie: A large cookie that is buttery and crisp. When fresh, the chocolate is warm and gooey, and the pastry chef took great care in sprinkling large flakes of salt over top. Goes famously well with a bit of milk. ​

 

[Faramund]

Shrugging the cloak from his shoulders, Faramund took a seat opposite the captain. Rain-soaked, but otherwise cheerful, the big knight nodded his thanks as Helena pressed a menu into his hands. Something of a novice when it came to reading, Faramund tried his best to decipher the text splayed across the parchment like so many lines of code. Words he thought he recognised sprang off the page and into his mind, finding a home there. Even more remained unreadable, however, much to his own disappointment.

Sorry, Gylbert.

"Chocolate chunk sounds good right about now," he replied after a time, a small frown crossing his features. He was quick to wipe it away with a smile. "You are the captain, alas. I feel I must defer to you on this matter." Sliding the menu back to Helena, Faramund folded his hands, and settled in for the wait.

 

[Helena]

+1 Approval

"Hmm," she sounds with a slight scrunch to her brow, lips pursed in thought. "I was hoping we could try the Honey Cake," but her face smooths into a warm expression and a sly smile. "But the cookies are my favorite!" She nods and takes back the menu.

She catches the server's eye, a small part of her happy to see its Tanith. "Can we add a couple of chocolate chunk cookies to our order please," Helena said with a smile once Tanith had made her way over. "In addition to the tiger's delight," she nods. Pleased.

Only after Tanith aways does Helena return her gaze to Faramund. "It's nice to be able to have a moment like this every now and again, isn't it?" She lets out a long breath, and sits up, tall and straight, but her shoulders relax some. "How are things going with you lately, Faramund?" Her lip quirks up, and she folds her hands at her lap.

---

You think of a few things to tell the Captain.

You brush things off, things are fine, business as usual.

Share a story from a recent quest. Joys and troubles are best shared.

Speak to how things have been around the Monastery as of late.

 

[Tanith Mistfall]

Tanith had shed her colorful cloak upon entering that day. The rain having soaked it enough that she'd decided to hang it by the fire to dry. She supposed it was her own fault for tarrying so long in the woods, gathering herbs. But how could she turn down such a bountiful harvest?

The Captain of Dawn had come in again, the siren's call of tea and cookies too strong for her to ignore. She'd ordered another pot Tiger's Delight. This time a gentleman from the Order had joined her. Sadly without an adorable animal companion for her to spoil. Oh well, the Gods weren't always generous.

She gave them a moment to decide on their order, approaching when Helena caught her eye. She folded her hands behind her and smiled. "Why hello again Captain, I hope the day's treating you well, despite the weather." She turned to her companion and nodded. "And a welcome to you too! I hope you enjoy your visit."

She refocused on Helena when she gave her their order. Another pair of chocolate chunk cookies huh? Well, she could hardly fault the Order's taste for sweets. "Right away, I'll make you some as soon as I finish your tea."

Helena Faramund

 

[Faramund]

"Well, then... no harm done." Faramund smiled as the captain put the order in to to a cheerful-looking elf with red hair and surprisingly young eyes. The big knight had never met her before -partly because this was his first time paying visit to the Wyvern's Nest- but she seemed friendly enough. "I'm sure I will," he replied with a nod, his smile remaining as he wondered how well the two women knew each other.

Considering the captain came here often, it was probably quite well.

"Oh, you know, it's..." Faramund caught himself, his gaze finding Helena's. For a moment there, he had been about to tell her what he always did; that everything was fine, business as usual. His thoughts, however, led him down a different path. "I've been busy," he told her, not really sure where to begin. "There was some nastiness in Alliria recently that I'd rather not talk about. What else was there? Oh, yes! Syr Theros and I hunted down a lich up near Eredale 'bout three days past. Suffice to say, that ended well."

Smiling, the knight's features brightened some as he recalled something else.

"Had a run-in with Noa, too. Bright girl, there. Bit like Miss Margot." Or you, he thought, deciding some things were better left unsaid. "What of you, captain? Imagine it's not often you get to relax like this."

Helena Tanith Mistfall

 

[Helena]

+1 Approval for Tanith

+2 Approval for Faramund

"A little rain is good for the roots, Tanith, and your company always helps warm the spirits," she thanked the ever-helpful young elf after the order was taken, and nodded as she handed back the menu.

When Faramund mentioned Alliria, a sardonic smile spread across Helena's face. "Please, the less said about Alliria the better," she shook her head, mildly dismayed. "An ever constant glut of paperwork, that city," she sighed, yet her smile still remained. Soft and genuine, as if the dread had been expunged and she nodded at the mention of Syr Theros and the lich. "I am glad to hear it, as capable as you all are, I never find much comfort when sending out marching orders,"

A brief moment of calm between them. A welcome silence and reprieve as the rain fell outside and pitter pattered against the window glass, and the fire crackled and popped.

"A run in you say?" she could not help but giggle softly as he mentioned Syr Margot next. "I've a feeling you have many run ins these days, Syr Faramund," she winked at him, and looked out the window as a full breath drew into her lungs. "And like had many before," there was a teasing little quirk at the corner of her lip.

Tanith came by and placed two cups before them, poured steaming tea into each delicate work of porcelain. Hot and full, the cups of tea sat before them. Tanith dismissed herself, pleasant as ever, and promised a swift return with their sweets.

Helena thanked the young elf, and looked down at the small pool of darkly colored drink. "Lots of tea as of late," she said with a half smile and a bit of a laugh. "Little moments when I can, but aye," she nodded. "These little moments are rare indeed," she looked up and met the big knight's eyes, "So I am glad to share them with good company when they find me,"

---

There is a sense of calm about the air. Do you...

Ask about knightly business, how is news at the front?

Ask about something more personal, how did you become a knight?

Ask about something a little less serious, any good gossip about the Monastery as of late?

Faramund

 

[Faramund]

"A feeling, huh?" Raising one bushy eyebrow, the dawnling felt a smile creep onto his face. "It seems I've earned myself something of a reputation at the Monastery," his smile grew wider, revealing a hidden well of feeling. "My own fault, I s'pose. Poor old Faramund, blundering his way through life, as per usual," he tsked, feigning disappointment in his own abilities.

The tea arrived shortly thereafter, bringing with it a promise and an end to that line of conversation.

Forgiving the loss, Faramund sipped at his steaming cup, watched as the elf did depart. She seemed a good sort, Tanith. Helena certainly held a fondness for the lass. He could see it in her eyes. Or so he chose to believe as he took his tea in both hands, his steady gaze piercing the steamy veil separating him from the captain and vice versa.

"These little moments are rare indeed," she said, and Faramund nodded, his gaze turning sympathetic as her eyes found his.

"I'm sorry to hear that," he said, finding himself meaning it. "Perhaps we could make a habit of this? I enjoy these... talks," he smiled, amusement welling up from his gut as he recalled Helena's previous words about his 'run ins'. "Soothes the soul, I find." He raised his cup. "The tea helps, of course, but as you said, can't turn down good company... when it finds you." Whether he meant himself or anybody but him remained unsaid, however.

Blowing the steam from atop his mug, the knight took another sip of tea.

"Now, before you break into laughter or I break down in tears, how about a change of topic?" Grinning, he set his mug down on the table between them, his chair creaking as he settled back on armour-clad haunches. "Let's see... anything much going on at the Monastery as of late?" He asked, hands knitting upon his chest as he slanted his head to one side, a curious glimmer in his eye.

Helena

 

[Helena]

+1

Helena smiled softly at his words on good company. "Too true," she would add as she reached out for the cream, and poured a splash into her own little cup of tea. A porcelain thing, alabaster white, with the blue flowers of Anatheaum ringed about its base in a delicate pattern of vines and leaves. She took up the cup and breathed in the aroma, found it soothing.

The warm tingle of steam that tickled her nose had her face scrunch up with a smile before she pursed her full lips and blew cool breath across the dark drink.

"Oh?" she sounded at the call to change topics. "Nothing overly serious," she added gently. and took a drink from her tea. The cup parted from her lips and she sat back in her chair, still and sturdy, yet serene, as most with sure roots were. "Well, nothing more serious than the burden of command," she smiled weakly at that. "But such is the Captain's lot, Syr Faramund," the formality dripped with a friendly mockery. "Pray you never need feel its weight," her eyes flit up to his, sharp as obsidian flint, and the sadness of her smile burned away to give life to challenge. "Less you think you are up for the task,"

Tanith came round, and placed two large cookies before them. Their dough golden with the crispiness born from perfect timing. The chunks of chocolate gooey and glistening, as the salt crystals sparkled like little jewels upon the field of tasty treat before them.

---

A moment of pause between you. The smell of fresh hot cookies full in the air.

Meet the challenge.

Bow out gracefully.

The cookies!

Faramund

 

[Faramund]

The sharp look Helena gave him was met with a blank stare as Faramund nursed his tea. "Depends," he replied between sips, "is the pay any good?" Waiting for his words to sink in, the Knight Sworn smiled impishly at the Captain as he put on his best sly mercenary act. Had she been expecting him to back down from the challenge? To reach for one of those delicious-looking cookies instead? Faramund didn't think so. No, Helena was fishing for something. Something to liven the mood, perhaps?

If so, she was probably talking to the wrong person.

Picking up one of the cookies Tanith had brought to their table, Faramund took a slow bite. His eyes were on Helena, but his mind -ever a fickle thing- changed course as soon as the flavours hit him. "Godsh... tees aren't 'alf bahd," he said through a mouthful of cookie, the words coming as an afterthought as he chewed.

Helena

 

[Helena]

+1

Helena's chuckle came tender from her chords. "Little pay, Syr Faramund, save the satisfaction that comes with seeing things grow," she shook her head at the big knight as she let down her tea. "And the look on Dorn's face when a squire falls short of the mark," she puffed up her cheeks and scrunched her brows as she jut her jaw out in a look that spelled death. She held it to the point of ache and pain, then popped like a bladder too full.

She let out a long breath, smiled some more, and held back another laugh when Faramund spoke of the cookie's praises. She gave a polite nod of her head to his praise. "Big, honest flavors," she said and took up her own cookie, bit it, closed her eyes to savor the moment, and gave another gentle nod before she opened her eyes and took up her tea, from which she sipped.

The rain outside pattered gently against the windows, and the fire crackled on. She looked to Faramund once more. "If I may be so bold, Faramund," Helena spoke with care. "What keeps you to the Order?" Her eyes would not waver from his own, and there as no judgement behind their deep gaze. Only a curiosity. A genuine want to know.

Faramund

 

[Faramund]

Nibbling on his cookie, Syr Faramund gave thought to the question asked him. What had kept him here? To Faramund's surprise, it proved a tough question to answer. "I'm... not entirely sure, to tell you the truth," came his grizzled reply. "The people, I s'pose. Though there's more to it than that, surely?" Unsure of what to say, the dawnling turned his head away in an attempt to avoid Helena's amber-hued gaze.

There's more to it than that, he had said, grim in the face of his own feelings, so why can't I tell her?

Listening to the rain come down, Faramund did his best to think of an answer that might sate the Dawn Captain's curiosity. When he drew a blank, the big knight shook his head. Would be easier to lie, he mused, the fire's gentle crackle lulling him into a false sense of comfort. But better? No, no, I don't think so. Taking another bite from his cookie, Faramund sought his courage. A hard thing to do, these days.

"I suppose I just got tired of running," he said after a time spent trapped within his own thoughts. "Spent so long on the road, I forgot what it felt like to just stay still, y'know?" Meeting Helena's eyes with his own, Faramund fought hard to stem the tidal wave of emotion threatening his composure. "I have a home here. Friends. People I can trust. I spent so long on my own that I was afraid of what might happen if I just... stopped for a moment."

He shrugged, took a sip of tea. The burn helped settle him some. Not much.

"It sounds stupid, I know, but this place... might just be the best thing that's ever happened to me." Smiling wanly, Faramund cast his gaze towards the shop's windows. Beyond those small, delicate sheets of glass, the rain continued to fall. Constant. Comforting. It reminded him of the day he had lost it all.

He cleared his throat.

"If you don't mind my asking, how did you come to join the Order, Helena?"

Helena

 

[Helena]

+1

She listened to his words. Knew the feeling of the comfort that came with distance. For so long, she had wanted to be a Knight. For so long, she had trained as a squire, and become a knight sworn. Oaths taken, Vows sworn. Her duty was what guided her. At least, her idea of duty at the time. Ranges, far from the monastery. Quests that took her across the Wilds and far beyond the Reach.

It was as if any place other than the familiar forms of the monastary stones felt more comforting to her. And the company she found there more sweet. More true, for they were far from the expectations. The pressures. The weight of duty.

Yet, she found herself back. Time and time again. Chose to range closer. Chose to root out threats that assailed the folk she knew. Bared the weight of the losses of familiar faces. She thought of all this, as she held her cup of tea close, and listened to the big knight tell his tale. Hear him speak of friends. Of home. It was enough to melt her lips into a full smile. Made all the warmer by the heat of the tea, which bled so gently through the walls of the porcelain cup.

"It does not sound stupid at all, Faramund," She let him know. But before she could let her know how much she felt the same. Understood that feeling. He asked a question.

She was knocked back a moment. As if a jab had touched her, and she'd not seen it. "Oh," she said reflexively, and straightened herself out from the natural lean that had come from listening with such intention. "Well, let's see," she began. "It was when I was but a child, tell it true," there was a bitter sweetness to her expression. A far-away look, as she strolled through the long grass fields of memories past. Watched it turn to gravel and stone and moss and mountain shrubs.

"There'd been a cave in at our villages mine," she squinted her eyes, and held her cup with both hands as she recalled the time. "So many of our able bodied men were trapped away behind a wall of earth, yet," she smiled at the memory. Armor glittering in the sun. Capes snapping in the wind. "Two knights of Anathaeum, of Dusk and Dawn, had ranged to our far flung town of Gladstone," she closed her eyes, and nodded her head with each new beat.

"They sent word for more aid, and set to their task without abandon, willing magicks and body to rip free the pile of earth that trapped so many sons, fathers, and grandfathers." she opened her eye and regarded one of the rain painted windwos. Blue and cold and as blurry as some parts of those far flung memories, so deep in her mind. "It was as i saw so many of our people find their loved ones again, I knew that I would be a knight," she smiled, and drank her tea

Faramund

 

[Faramund]

With his tea in one hand and a cookie in the other, Faramund listened to the Knight-Captain's words. Helena had never really struck him as a tragic character, but then he hardly knew anything about her. The same could be said for most of his brothers and sisters-in-arms. It had been years now since he had entered the fold, and yet when it came down to it, they were no more familiar to Faramund than the woman sitting across from him.

Alas, they were all he had. Friends. Family. The closest he had ever had to one, anyway.

"They inspired you to become what you are today," Faramund spoke softly, taking a bite from his cookie while it was still warm. "Must have been hard, leaving everything you knew behind," taking another bite, he let his gaze find Helena's. Despite all she had been through, there was life to be found in her smile. Warmth, even. The perfect thing for a rainy day, that. The tea and snacks were a nice addition, of course. Something to help alleviate the burden weighing upon the Captain's shoulders.

Drinking his tea, Faramund paused to pour himself another from the pot Tanith had left them.

"Forgive me if I'm overstepping, but you mentioned fathers... grandfathers." Taking a sip, the big knight recoiled as the beverage burnt its way down. Best give it a minute, he thought, placing the cup on its saucer. "Were your kinsmen among those the knights saved that day?"

Helena

 

[Helena]

"Tell it true, Faramund, leaving was easy," she admitted, and her smile was tinged with melancholy, her eyes scanned across the dark pool of burnt gold that was her tea. As if that little pool helped her scry through time, back to being that child who milled about the village. "Stoney and grey in the winter, with a biting cold that went down into the bones. Not much to do other than scramble around rocks, and help forage the shrubbery, or gather fresh water from the streams," her father had been a kind man, a good man. Raised her well, made sure they had enough coin to get them through the winter.

But she had watched him go into those mines so many times. Remembered hearing the stories shared between her parents. Folks died of miner's lung. Cave in crushing old Leno's leg. Some strange smell fillin up the shaft. A man dropping dead.

"Nay," she confessed, and took a drink of her tea. "none that they saved," she went on. "My father died in that cave in," she bowed her head in respect of his memory, then finished her tea. "Though, easy as it was to leave," she continued. "I did miss home, once I'd made it to the monastery," she smiled, and remembered her father holding her in his arms as he showed her the blue asters of the butte that first time. She could still smell their delicate sweetness. "Sleeping in the squire's bunks those first few weeks, hearing all manner of strangeness coming out from the Dusker's labs," she laughed. "That was hard,"

Faramund

 

[Faramund]

Faramund listened as Helena spoke of her home, and the ghosts she had left behind. We all have a few of those, the knight thought, trying to focus his mind on something other than the memories the captain's words invoked. "The early days, where you knew nobody and nobody knew you and everything seems strange." Smiling, he nodded to himself as Helena's laughter filled the shop with the sweetest music life had to offer. "Aye, I can see how that might be considered the hard part."

In truth, the only thing Faramund had struggled with during his stint with the Order were the reading- and writing lessons. Those were a right bastard! Brother Gylbert had tried his best, Gods bless him, but the lessons were slow-going. His teachings... somehow they never quite took hold.

Think I'm partly to blame for that, Faramund thought, drinking the last of his tea before setting the cup and saucer down in the middle of the table. His father -also called Faramund- had always admired his son's stubbornness. It was about the only thing the two of them had had in common.

"Since we're being honest with each other, I never saw myself as much of a knight in shining armour," Faramund admitted after a time, his eyes shining as he took in Helena's. "In fact, 'pon joining the Order, I was quite certain that this life was not for me. If not for Merrycourt and a few others, I'm quite certain that I would have quit this place long ago." Looking at Helena, the knight shrugged as if to say such thoughts were behind him now.

But he couldn't shake the idea that he didn't belong here. Too many heroes. Too many good people to drag down into the muck with him. A few more months, he thought, a few more years. Then... then I'll slip away quietly. No fuss, no drama... no need to explain myself.

Turning his head, the big knight listened as the downpour began to weaken. "Sounds like the rain's easing off some," he said, gazing once more at the Captain. He sighed. "Soon have to be getting back to it," he huffed, staring at the tea set sadly. "Much on your plate for today? Other than half-eaten cookies, that is."

Helena

 

[Helena]

Helena listened intently as Faramund spoke. He who ranged so far and fought so fiercely for all around him. She knew Merrycourt had been close to him. The two ranged together often. Only natural really. But Merrycourt had passed. Murdered as far as their order knew. She was sure that wound still ached in. She could hear it. There between the vowels of the words he spoke so casually.

"Faramund," she said plainly, and held her tea low against the table. Her eyes down as they stared into the unsettled portent. "I am glad you are here," she smiled, a thing made all the sweeter by the bitter draught of sadness that lingered. Her eyes looked to the man's hands. Thick and callused, dotted with little slips and divetts of silvered flesh. As he looked out the window, she reached to hold it. If she caught the big man's big hand, he would feel the emberic warmth that flowed so naturally through her.

Magick resistant as the Mund was, Helena's energies were potent.

"Please," she went on, and held her gaze on his. "Know you are as much a knight of the Order as I am," her smile softened. "I... I am just a miner's daughter, Faramund. A stone knocked loose by the slide of fate," she would give his hand a squeeze. "And half the time, I... I don't feel like I know what I am doing, like there are more worthy souls for the captaincy," she laughed at her self, and made to pull her hand away. "Forgive me, I... I forget myself,"

Faramund

 

[Faramund]

'"The slide of fate,"' echoed Faramund, his smile a tight, drawn thing. 'We all get caught up in it sooner or later, I find.' He almost flinched as the Captain took his hand in hers. Warm, and woven with magicks, her touch filled him with an emotion he struggled to suppress. He felt sadness for his friend, guilt for the things he'd done. But most of all, he felt a longing. For what once was... and for what would never be.

Gazing at Helena, the big knight shook his head at her words. A smile split his features, full and genuine.

'If that is how you feel about the matter, leave it to me! I shall gather up all the knights who think you unworthy and stage a mutiny,' he paused, tightening his grip on Helena's as she sort to pull away. 'Only there aren't any. Want to know why?' Holding her hand tight, the dawnling looked his Captain in the eye. 'Because you're the right person for the job. I've yet to meet a soul who thinks otherwise. And, yes, I know that sounds like empty flattery, but believe me when I say I mean it. Not a soul.'

Pausing, Faramund allowed the Captain time to mull over his words. He had never been much of a talker, but to stay silent when you believed something so fervently, well, that would have been just plain wrong.

Nodding, he let her hand go. 'Now,' he said, a sly grin twisting his lips. 'Hows about that promotion Dejan promised me?'

 

[Helena]

Helena drank in the words. Like water to parched roots, she let them sink in, and her hand held the warmth of his grip. Had he always been so sure spoken? So attentive? She looked away as he assured her that it was no empty flattery. That he spoke true.

"I..." she wanted to reject the notion. List the knights that would better serve the order. Syr Dejan, Syr Raye, Syr Conleth to name but a few of the pursuants of Dawn who had helped her find her way in this world. People she still looked to for guidance when she felt most lost.

It was his joke that made her realize she was still holding his hand, tightly and without want to let go. And that same joke that made her realize it was Syr Faramund who let slip his fingers from her. Her face grew warm, and she laughed at his quip as she brought her hand into her lap.

"Syr Faramund," her voice found her confidence, but her eyes still avoided his. Though her smile was plain to see. "I am sure then, that Syr Dejan reminded you of the importance," she looked back at him then, and fixed a stare upon him, pointed, yet warm. "Of your letters." she raised her brow expectant. She laughed, and looked own at her cup. "And," she said, voice soft once more. "Thank you, Faramund. Truly,"

 

[Faramund]

Waving her thanks away, Faramund made to stand. 'Think nothing of it,' he said, pleased to see his Captain's mood brighten at his words. 'I am but a humble servant of a worthy commander.' He bowed, a perfect rendition of courtly behaviour. Grinning down at Helena, Syr Faramund moved to retrieve his cloak from where it hung by the fire. The fabric was still sodden, but at least it didn't drip everywhere when he picked it up.

'If ever you need someone to talk to, you know where to find me.'

That wasn't an exact truth, Faramund knew. More days than not, he was on the road, ranging and patrolling as he was wont to do. Quests took him far and wide, and rare were the days he found himself back at the Monastery. For a moment, he pitied the young captain. To be tied to a desk all day everyday sounded like Hell. And the paperwork...

Giving his cloak one final shake, Faramund donned the silver-white garment. The dawn crest emblazoned on the back burned bright as it caught the firelight, reflected it. 'Would you care to walk back with me?' he asked Helena as he tied the laces off. 'Unless you have matters to attend to here in town, in which case I shall love you and leave you.'

Helena

 

[Helena]

"Why do i get the feeling this is a common occurrence for you, dear Mund?" she smiled, and got up from the table, making sure to leave the requisite coin there by her plate.

She made sure to take the cookie first, and crunch the last bite before she made for her own cloak, that warmed by the fire. "And what if, I were the one to love and leave, Syr Mund?" she asked with an impish smirk, letting her same-white cloak fall across her shoulders, fingers nimble with the work of tying the knots. "Or do you prefer, The Mund," she couldn't help but laugh at her own joke.

 

[Faramund]

'I prefer Faramund, son of Faramund,' he replied stoically. 'But since it's you, and since you asked so politely, I suppose "Syr Mund" will suffice... for the time being, at least.' Breaking out his brightest smile, Faramund made to open the door for the Dawn Captain. Tanith called out to the two knights as they left, wishing them farewell. The big dawnling gave her a parting wave as he closed the door behind him.

Outside the Wyvern's Nest, where the rain-rivers did flow, all was quiet. Casting his gaze about, Faramund took a moment to tighten the threads of his cloak. The street was clear in both directions, he noted, and despite the skies being mercifully devoid of rainclouds, the villagers had yet to stir from their refuges. Playing it safe, he thought, making a few last-minute adjustments to his hood as Helena waited patiently by his side.

The weather had been notoriously fickle as of late, he knew. The last thing the people of Astenvale wanted was to get caught in the middle of another downpour. As it so happened, neither did Faramund.

Offering Helena his arm, the big knight began to walk. Careful to avoid the puddles dotting their path, he said, 'As to your earlier question, about loving and leaving, was it? Aye, as to that question, I imagine my ego would be thoroughly bruised if you were to do such a thing.' Strolling along, his eyes on the world around him, the dawnling allowed himself a small smirk.

'Of course, as a Captain most worthy, I know you would never do that to someone as loyal as I.' Holding back laughter of his own, Faramund turned his gaze to the side. 'Would you?'

Helena

 

[Helena]

"Syr Mund then," she said in joyful tease, and she followed after the broad shouldered knight, watching the trail of his cape, and noting how it draped over his muscled frame. She smirked, and quickened her pace to reach his side.

Outside, as all the world seemed to sigh in sweet release. The heavens wept, and all the land was slick with the rivulets of rain. It was like a calming music to the Captain's ears.

Faramund, ever the rascal, offered his arm to Helena. She huffed a small laugh and decided, why not, looping her arm under his after she had covered her haid with the cowl of her cloak. She smirked at his ribbing. He was a dangerous one for sure. Honey tongued and strong as he was.

But it was the gentle humor. The barbs, like the little prickles of branch and leaf while out on the long range, that she liked most. He was not afraid to say what he thought. And he thought a far deal more than he ever seemed to admit.

"No, loyal Faramund," she said with soft smile as they strode through the rain like a pair of lonely ghosts. Less lonely for the company they shared. Though their fate, well, only time would tell how strongly it was sealed. "I would not," and she rest her head on his shoulder. If only to enjoy a bit of normalcy for once. A bit of relief from all the weight she carried.

 

[Faramund]

Smiling a gentle half-smile, Faramund made his amusement -and gratitude- known with a nod and a look. Good to know, he thought. Turning his attention back to the street, the knights forged ahead. Water splashed around their boots as they walked, and continued to fall from the nearby eaves to soak the roadway beneath.

Listening to the staccato rhythm they made, his mind content, thoughts as lackadaisical and empty as the clouds above, Faramund nearly started in surprise as he felt something press against his shoulder.

Turning his head, his brow furrowed in question, Faramund damn near felt his heart burst out of his chest as he recognised the source. 'Helena?' he began softly, only for his next words to die in his throat. The face beneath her cowl was swathed in shadow, but even so he could see the way her eyes had closed.

It was almost as if she sought a moment's rest, and had chosen his shoulder as the most likely of places to achieve it.

Deciding he was fine with such a notion, the big dawnling turned his own eyes back to the road. Shared as she had with him, it was only right he allowed her this small reprieve. A moment's rest, that's what this is, mused Faramund, pinching the lip of his hood as a pair of washerwomen walked past them in the opposite direction.

Smiling at him, their own cloaks wet from the rain, the two washerwomen started whispering to each other as soon as the knights had passed them by.

Stifling a chuckle, Faramund gave Helena's arm a gentle squeeze as their voices receded into the distance. 'You keep this up and people are like to start talking,' he told the Captain, pausing as they reached a fork in the road. 'Not that such talk would bother me, of course, but warriors are worse than fishwives when it comes to gossipmongering,' he smiled.

Strangely enough, he could already hear the squires telling their stories in the Knoll, their excitable voices sounding delightfully familiar to his mind's ear. '"The Mund strikes again," they'll say,' said Faramund, shaking his head in mock disbelief.

'Gods! It's a surprise anybody takes me seriously.'

Helena

 

[Helena]

A moment of peace. It was a rare thing for the young captain to find amidst the ceaseless churn of responsibility and necessity. Sleep. Rest. Relaxation. All time she could have used to help them better to prepare.

Reports reviewed, maps studied, field notes written up and disseminated to the proper agents in the field. Messages scribed to lords and ladies who could send aid. Words of warning set to searing spell scroll to warn lords who toed the line of their most wyld and sacred lands.

There was always so much to do. And now? As they walked gently across the rain puddled roads, arms together, her head rested upon his shoulder, her eyes closed. She could not help but smile at hearing his shock. But she did not open her eyes. She went on, striding dreamily across the paved roads of Astenvale.

"They take you seriously, dear Faramund," she said gently. "Because they know you are a good man," she spoke clear and honest. Her voice as warm and sure as a flame well kept. "Because they know that despite all the uncertainty in this world, that you, oh Mund," she smiled, impish. "Are of a true sort," the rains went on, gentle with their cleansing showers. "Gold in quality," to this she did open her eyes, and turned her head to regard the man, a deep kindness in her eye. "'Sides," she said with confident smirk, "There are worse rumors of me in this world than, a walk with The Mund."

 

[Faramund]

Standing over Helena, his hood hiding his eyes, the big dawnling smiled sadly at her words. A good man... Where had he heard that before? From Margot? Merrycourt? Demiex? Turning his face to the sky, Faramund closed his eyes. The rains had eased, the storm clouds moved on, but an air of damp still hung over Astenvale. A faint drizzle, it fell in a silvery mist to dapple the knight's beard and cloak with little spots of moisture.

A good man, am I? Or have I merely pulled the wool over all of your eyes?

Letting the idea rattle around his skull, Faramund lowered his gaze. Though he was grateful to Helena, he couldn't help but feel he had deceived his fellows into believing he was something better than the man he once was. 'A true sort,' he repeated absentmindedly, carrying on the lie like a man born to it. 'I'm flattered.'

A playful wink and they were off again, arms locked and capes flowing behind them like silken banners, towards the ancient Monastery of Astenvale.

'There are?' Faramund asked, reflecting the warmth Helena had shown him, his voice teasing. 'Well, colour me surprised! I thought you were as straight-edged as they come,' he grinned, gave her a gentle nudge with his arm. 'Oh, don't go all quiet on me now, Captain. There are rumours to be heard, and I've a mind to hear them,' he nudged her again, this time more squarely. A ripple of magic swept up his arm as he did, making his skin tingle strangely. 'Come on, now. Spill! I promise not to think any less of you if you do.'

Helena