|Before the Heart Tree|
|Summary:||Damara's reverence is joined by the Lord Camden|
|Godswood - Tall Oaks|
|The small godswood walled in by an age old wall connects with the clearly to the east. Within the godswood stands at the center an old and tended weirwood. It's boughs are touched with ribbons, placed by those of Tall Oaks that yet hold on to the Gods of the first men. Though it is not a worn area but it is not abandoned. The face within the wood is near feminine in make, the weeping tree one of ethereal ties.|
|Wed August 3, 288|
The daily feeding of the falcons seen to and all things set aside, Damara retreats through the wood towards the western clearing and the somewhat forgotten Godswood. The sun still hangs in the sky but only by threads as she wades through the tall grass. It moves and shifts about her, carrying the scent of late season flowers. The clearing itself is warmer in the evening, when the sun has turned to gold instead of hot white. About her wrist twines a simple leather necklace strung with a medallion.
She hums as she walks, her leather vest left behind to favor the cooler air against her chemise that shifts, the ties to the top slightly undone. Green eyes lift to the branches of the weir and its blood colored leaves. Her head tilts and she traces a hand through the tassles of the grass as she finaly dips past the crumbling wall to enter the sacred Godswood, prayer in the song that has no words past her lips.
This day had been one of business and meetings, for preperations were being made for the impending invitations that would depart to other houses, extending the offer of a meet in the hopes of finding the intentions of those further side. Along side these particular preperations, Sarojyn had begun to see to things in case he need venture beyond the Oaks that he calls his home. Now, with the sun preparing to depart beneath the horizon, he's found himself wandering from the keep and the business that it holds.
Finding himself moving along the paths of the forest, it doesn't take him long until he finds himself wandering near to the Godswoods, his step bringing him closer to the crumbling wall that bids one to enter. Movements slow to pause so that his eyes can shift amongst the foundation of that wall and once a heartbeat has passed, he finds his steps taking him towards and then past it, finally entering the sacred woods.
Entering the shelter of the limbs of the Weirwood, the face carved there is gazed upon. Damara moves closer, slowly and reverently before she gazes upward at the dancing blood along it's make. Sun rushes though, giving life to the hue in a new found flushed brilliance. A smile touches her lips and she slowly lifts the medallion to her lips, pressing it there as she hums softly still. Her eyes close and head bows and her hands clasp before her as the stir of the wind rushes through the tall grass in a whispering answer to words unsaid.
It only takes Sarojyn a moment to notice that he's not alone in the Godswood and as he begins to approach the Heart tree, his eyes shift to Damara, resting there for a moment before returning to the tree and the face it holds. Drawing up along side of her, his eyes remain focused on that face, eyes following the line of it's mouth and eyes. Then, he simply lowers to one knee, his head drawing down so that his eyes come to rest upon the ground. Lips move in silent prayer and when it ceases, he begins to rise from his spot.
The humming ends when Damara feels the presence of another not only in faint footfalls but in the warmth beside her. Her eyes open and she tilts her head to look over the knuckles of her hands and down. Sarojyn is watched for his reverence and when he finally rises, she speaks, her voice soft in respect. "My Lord, does the Heart tree hear you as I see you?" She asks, a soft smile to her lips before jade eyes lift to consider the face. It is here peace is truly felt, even more than within the vaulted walls of Tall Oaks Keep.
It's here in this place that one could lose themselves to quiet contemplation and thought, but that doesn't seem to be the order of the day for Sarojyn. With that prayer lasting but a moment, his hands draw the cloak around him, though when Damara finally speaks, he's turning his attention towards her. A soft smile is offered to hers, as is a slight nod of his head, "I would hope that it does, Damara." A turn of his head brings the Heart tree back into his view, that smile remaining lightly upon his lips. "Please. I did not mean to intrude upon your prayer."
"No, my Lord, you do not. My prayers are said with my heart all the day and every day.." Damara intones, looking back to the face that is cut in relief upon the tree. A soft breath exhales and she considers the leaves. "It is a wonder, how others have so quickly shed what once was their stole…do you think there will come a time when Septs will be broken down and replaced with something new and more befitting? Things change too much in this word, My Lord…" Her gaze sweep over to him and she says, "Webs created to catch others..webs that bring pain and suffering. Tall Oaks is free of that in so many ways. I hope it remains so." Subtle hints
Looking back towards her, Sarojyn is offering a slight bow of his head, that smile fading a touch from his lips as she talks of change and webs. He can't help but agree and it shows with the slight nod of his head that he gives, "You are right, Darama. Too quickly do people shed their trappings for something new and unknown. Something unfamiliar that tempts them with their wants." Eyes return to that tree, resting there for a moment before he's looking back to her. "I will see to it that it remains so, Damara, of this I can promise." And one that he no doubts intend to keep, for offering a promise before the Heart tree is all but binding.
Her gaze within silence once he speaks that promise is one of trust, devotion and loyalty. "I pray you do, my Lord." She starts, her gaze deeply studying his without shying. "I also pray that others do not see to the ruin of it." Fingers flex together, knuckles whitening a moment before she looks back to the tree and draws her gaze reluctantly away. Her head dips and she makes a thin line of her lips as they press together. A slow breath exhales and she whispering softly, the wind again catches the grass to sweep it around them in a dance.
"If others seek to ruin such a thing, Damara, they will meet resistance. The people of Tall Oaks, nor I, will ever let someone force things upon us." That said, Sarojyn is returning his eyes to the tree, regarding it as she begins that slow exhale and whispering sound. The wind catching the grass and setting it to dance amongst their feet has his eyes drawing closed for the moment, enough so that the peaceful nature of their surroundings can once more invade his thoughts, settling an ease within before he's finally opening his eyes once more. "I am glad to have stumbled upon you here, my friend."
She says nothing to his words, continues to pray but he is heart. Damara quiets though as he speaks of being glad of finding her. Slowly green eyes open and stare at the face of the Heart wood. Her head slowly turns to regard him, her lips parting. "My Lord?" It is a gentle query as her clasped hands slowly lower to rest against her stomach. A study his made and the falconer is shifting upon her feet, the medallion brushing against her stomach as it swings with her movements.
Even as she queries him in response to his words, Sarojyn's eyes remain focused upon the Heart tree, looking at it as if it was looking back upon him. Hands remain curled against the cloak, the garment drawn against his form for the moment. There is a twist of his lips to a smile and when he replies, it's a soft murmer, as if prying ears linger within the trees. "Without trying, you do much to ease the worry within me. To settle my thoughts and quell the fear that threatens to rise."
The cloak is considered, the Mistress enjoying the cool relief that comes with the later hour. As the breeze stirs the ties of her shirt, Damara answers him, "It is a priviledge to do so, my Lord. Though I think I may be more pragmatic than yourself. To me that would mean I am more…a worrisome one than you. But if that ease you and settle what worry you have, I will glady be so." She states, her head turning to look back at the face, her eyes searching it for answers.
It's only now that Saro turns his head to regard the woman that has become his friend through the years and as a smile plays to his lips once more, he's giving a slight nod of his head, "It does. You speak and advise from the heart when you feel it necessary. An added voice of the people." He then looks back towards the Heart tree, his eyes closing for the moment. "For that, I am truly thankful."
This turned talk of her loyalty and support has Damara feeling oddly in the spotlight. Eyes flicker to gaze at him from the corner, nodding her head until he looks back to the tree and closes his eyes. She swallows and clears her throat. "It is my honor, my Lord. I seek to serve you as I can and since you gladly accept my words, I am thankful. It otherwise would not be easy to stand beside you and watch you blunder as all men do." Lighten the mood, she smiles, the warmth turning her lips upward with the jest.
There's a subtle nod of his head to the first part of her words, his eyes still closed, but when the last part of her statement reaches his ears and is processed, Saro can't help but offer a laugh. Eyes open and his head turns so as to settle his gaze upon her, lips now curved into the slightest of grins. "Me? Blunder? I hardly think that's possible." His words are tinged with humor, the 'seriousness' of the previous conversation having now fled. "It is not often when I do such a thing and when I do, it is behind closed doors and secreted away."
"Ahhh but my Lord, those are only your most obvious blunders. I have been about enough to know men do..and will. It is a woman's words that steers them right." Damara yet jests but her own smile spreads further for the sake of his and the ease of the air about them as her drawing a breath through parted lips. That smile softening as she turns her had, chin lifted to gaze at the tree, eyes drawing up to the dancing red leaves. Her lips close and silence falls over her before she says, "That is why the Gods made as they did, to be fit for each other.
Her continued jests keep that smile upon his lips, drawing it just a touch larger as he turns to face her more fully now. His right brow lofts upwards just a touch and as he regards her, there's a slight tilt of his head to the right. The edges of his cloak are released so that arms lift upwards, coming to cross over his chest. "Oh? So you are the woman behind the scenes that keeps me from faltering and falling?" That jest is barbed back to her.
Her gaze lingers on the red leaves a moment more before those jade eyes rest back upon the Lord. Damara lifts a brow and laughs, "No of course not, that is reserved for others. I am but a small voice in the back of your head to give you advice. In all likelihood I do not exist and I am but a figment of your thoughts. You are a rather constructive Lord…and thank you for making me a falconer. Such a generous thing. But next time, a few less scars and maybe some blonde hair.." She jests entirely and gives her auburn braid a tug.
That brow remains lifted as she delves further into the jest and for a moment, Saro's laugh echo's hers as he gives his head a slight shake, "If you are a figment of my thoughts, then your voice lends as much precedent as I see fit. But, alas, I know for a fact that you are not merely a figment of my thoughts." There's a slight flash of a wink to her before he's turning back towards the tree, arms uncrossing so that his hands can slip beneath the cloak at his back. Then, as an aside, he's offering, "And were you a figment of my thoughts, you would be exactly as you are now."
Her smile remains, wistful and light. Damara grins a bit at the wink and watches him turn, following his gaze again to the tree. But she stops, eyes blinking as he speaks the last. There is nothing to be said to such a thing, compliment as it is. She dips her head instead and utter a very faint 'my lord'. She hesitates, lingering there a moment more before she then gazes to the leaves. "It is a wonder…these woods. They are peaceful in such ways that one can feel utterly content." She lets out a breath, "Or perhaps it is the company we keep." Her own way of compliment before she is turning from the wood. "Now to my tea and thoughts. If my Lord give me leave?" She waits for his release.
Saro's attention remains focused upon that tree, the smile still holding upon his lips and when her compliment comes to be offered, there's a slight nod of his head, "I think, Damara, that it is a little of both." Then, she's asking his leave and he's hands release from behind his back, so as to draw the cloak to his body once more. For a moment he's quiet, contemplating and when he finally does look to her, he's giving her a nod of his head, "You have my leave." That said, he looks back to the Heart tree and after another breath has past, he's lowering himself down to one knee yet again.
A half nod from over her shoulder at his release and Damara weaves her way back through the grasses, spiders and crickets filling the air with their chitting and chirping. The falconer doesn't look back, the medallion lowered to her side once more as she escapes the canopy of the Heart wood and continues forward. The evening breeze steals across the clearing and rustles the canopies overhead, causing her head to lift. A storm. She can smell it in the air and it gives her a rush of elation. A smile curls her lips and the Mistress picks up her pace, lightened by the air and when she is out of sight, twists in place with her hands outstretched. The clouds ahead look deep and dark, promising a bountiful rain from the Gods. The Heart wood listens. The summer will cool soon. She picks her way forward, not worrying over the rain that is to come.