|Hemming Old Memories|
|Summary:||Nimue refreshes Isolde's wardrobe and fixes a few pieces.|
|Date:||17 Aug 2011|
|Guest Suite — Fortress of the Seven|
|The Guest Suites of the fortress are designed to help visiting dignitaries or nobility feel at home while they are visiting House Nayland. The expansive rooms are not as large as the Lord and Lady's chamber, but are respectable regardless. The king-size beds are furnished with fine sheets and fluffy pillows to ease the head of travelled bodies. Couches and highback chairs feature prominantly in one corner for small gatherings while the rest is dedicated to either windows to the outside or storage for the guests' goods. A firepit is also placed center in the room to provide even heating no matter where one is located within the room.|
|Wed August 17, 288|
A patch of new needlework rests on her lap and Isolde is dressed in a simple summer spun piece, no layers to keep her cool. Her dark hair, intricately laid to rest in a braid down her back is set with that gold circlet she has grown accustomed to wearing as of late. Milicent, her maid sits at the edge of the fire as the Lady herself looks out over the Mire, lamenting the lack of actual land in favor of swamp. She sighs and looks back to her work, setting the blue thread to the kerchief.
"My Lady…would you care for some sweet rolls, perhaps some fresh wine.." Milicent offers who tends her knitting now, the rotund woman eyeing her a moment. "I am sure your Lord Husband will be arriving to see you. And to return us both home." Seems Milicent misses Stonebridge just as much as Isolde.
There comes a knock at the door. A firm businesslike series of three short, polite raps.
Isolde lifts her head to look towards the door when the knock is heard and she makes no comment of Ryker at the moment. A nod is given to Milicent and the lady sets aside her knitting and pushes herself up with a huff. Moving for the door, she rubs a hand to her neck and fixes her apron. "Comin, comin." Comes the call as the woman trundles over and finally opens the chamber door. "Yes?" She asks faintly and waits as a sentry would.
There at the door is a slip of a woman with the red hair and green eyes of the Riverfolk. She smiles and makes a polite bob, all without disturbing the brilliantly coloured wicker basket on her hip. "You must be the Lady Isolde's maidservant," she says with a cheerful voice. "I am Nimue Waterford, clothier to the Nayland household. I have been sent to take measurements for the Lady Isolde's new wardrobe. A gift of welcome to the Fortress of the Sevens."
She seems to expect to be let in, but she does not try to force her way past Millicent.
Milicent peers curiously at the girl and then the basket before she is about to lay on the questions. Isolde lifts her voice, "Let her in…we must be thankful for such visits and distractions." From the dull dismal life of the Seven's Fortress. Setting aside her needlework as Milicent takes a step back, she rises from her seat. "Be welcome…Miss Nimue." Her smile is one of measured worth and she keenly watches the young woman and then her basket. "A wardrobe..it seems I am to be burdened down to make a return to Stonebridge rather difficult." SHe smirks some, giving Milicent a look as the Lady steps forward. "I must thank my Goodfather for this? Or were you sent by someone else?" She asks curiously.
Nimue smiles. "No indeed. My Lord Rygar gives you this present. I am the best clothier in the Mire, milady," she says, with not a little hint of pride in her tone. "I am a skilled clothmaker as well and can even make cloth of gold if you desire. A certain amount of gold wire -has- been set aside for your use. Not enough for a full gown, mind, but I could manage enough to trim the cuffs and neckline." She sets down her basket and pulls out various coloured bits of string.
She curtsies once before moving to position Isolde much like a doll, measuring her here and there, murmuring numbers softly to herself. "Does milady perfer one colour over another, perhaps?" She clucks her tongue at something and then fusses with a hem. "Really, milady," she murmurs. "You should let me get started right away. This dress does nothing for your figure."
The fretting that suddenly she is the focus of draws a raised brow, but it is the faint smirk that saves her.
The fretting that suddenly she is the focus of draws a raised brow, but it is the faint smirk that saves her. "I shall have to thank the Lord for such a gift.." She breathes and looks over Nimue to Milicent. The other woman watches Nimue and then moves to offer her assistance. Isolde however watches Nimue and then laughs a little. "It is the humidity that keeps me restricted to such a light affair. I would never wear this in official audience or out and about. All in all, you get to see me at my barest…Mistress."
"I have always favored the color green or blue, but I find oddly enough reds and purples do me well." She states softly and then moves as she is instructed. "Gold wire..you don't say. How very precious a thing."
Nimue gets an impish twinkle in her eyes. "Aye? Well and enough, milady, but here at the Sevens, I shall have you looking fashionable even when wearing the slightest of shifts. None of this baggy plain ill-sewn patching. I can weave silk so fine as to be improper without a second layer. And linen ye shall have, perhaps, for more menial tasks. I hear tell that some of the ladies from smaller houses do enjoy such pursuits as the dyin' of cloth or weavin' of tapestries." She smiles. "I should be happy to give you instruction in such matters if you would like, and if the Naylands do not begrudge you the education."
She works swiftly and then moves to pull out a rough lump of charcoal, making markings at various points on the strings. "Now, I live with my son down be' the docks in the house that belonged to my man before he was carried off be' the fever. But I'm often here enough, and I help out in the kitchens when an extra pair of hands is needed and the wenches won't suffice. So if you are fancyin' anythin' in particular to eat, I can surely procure it for you. A good leek and eel pie, perhaps?"
Listening, Isolde can not help but smile. "I shall leave such things up to you…" She tells Nimue. "It sounds like you have things well in hand …though I am unsure as to what to even pick. So in that case as well, I leave it up to you." But at the mention of begrudging her the education, the Lady laughs, "Begrudge me? They would some matters, but I would not think cloth making would be one of them. They probably wish I would pursue such things rather than my thoughts." She smiles gently and then moves to help Nimue in her continued measurements.
"I am sorry for your loss, Mistress." In regards to her husband. Her green eyes look down to her hands as they mentions them and then smiles. "Ahhh, I think I shall pass for now. But perhaps I will not turn you down the next time. I am far too taken with my thoughts as of late..I neglect other things." Like eating.
Nimue nods. "Aye, well, it was a few years past. Not so long after my b'y was born." She doesn't seem to be in mourning still. "He was a good man, though, taught me some of his trade. A fisherman he was." She finally steps back from Isolde and marches over towards the woman's wardrobe and trunks. "Best I get an idea of what you already have, milady." But, by her tone, it's clear that she doesn't expect too much.
At least five rich gowns, one gifted to her already is done in Nayland colors. One that is particularly worn is of the Tordane colors. Then there is a beige one with russet and gold embroidery and a blue with white and gold embroidery. The last is a rich plum done with gold threading. The rest are lighter linen gowns where as the first were velvets and rich wools. Isolde watches from behind her as the other woman looks over her items, a brow lifting and her gaze cast aside to Milicent. "My father's House was of modest wealth. Though we never wanted for much my wardrobe is not as extensive as the Naylands." She explains, hands clasping before her.
Nimue smiles kindly at Isolde. "There there, milady," she says comfortingly. "All men are alike. They want to provide for their kind." She sets aside some of the gowns, returning only a very few to the wardrobe and trunk. "I'm sure your father was a lovely man. 'Tis not his fault he wasn't born a Nayland. The Seven simply have their designs for us all…" She clucks her tongue again as she scoops up well over half of Isolde's clothing. "Well. Never you mind, milady. Mistress Nimue will soon have you set to rights. I can recycle some of the cloth from here to make you much prettier garments."
As the dresses are suddenly assaulted, Isolde stares at the green and gold one. "Mistress.." Isolde takes a step forward, forgetting the comment about her father not being born a Nayland. "I know you mean well, but leave that one.." She starts to reach for it, that Tordane colored one. "If you would." She insists, her eyes settling on the other woman. Her head tilts to look back at Milicent in that sort of searching way before she means to take the article directly from Nimue.
The woman is not one to refuse a noble, let alone the newest Nayland. But the little redhead -is- quite taken aback at Isolde's sudden forwardness. Dawning settles on her features, though, and she extends her overburdened arms to allow the poor Lady to retrieve the dress. "Has it sentimental value then?" she asks, her voice comforting. "Aye, it must be quite a shock for thee then, Milady. New place, new people; I cannae imagine leavin' my own home. But we shall all help thee manage." She smiles. "Would ye like if I fixed it up a bit for thee, milady? Patched it up, reinforced the seams… 'Tis ould and worn, but I can mayhaps give it a few years life yet."
"It is a bit short …I have refused to have it fixed for me, for fear of spoiling it.." Isolde manages as she lays the dress over her arm and then looks up to Nimue. "It was the last thing my father gave to me before he left for the Rebellion." Before he never returned. "I have worn it despite how tall I have gotten…it was made nearly five years ago..maybe more." The exact date is unknown to her. "It means a great deal to me…" She considers the offer and looks down to the gown. "If you could…strengthen it's will, perhaps I will find some measure of comfort in it. I have accepted who I am..who I married. But to let go of everything I was…in name..seems somehow wrong to me." She smiles and then fingers the cloth a moment and offers it back. "Milicent can help you should you need it."
Nimue ahhs and nods. "Then I will take special care of it for thee, milady," she answers somberly. "Never you mind, dear. I will keep it safe. I have never spoilt a gown before. I don't expect that I shall now." She's quite chipper, really. Confident and bustling. Millicent, however, is given a polite smile. "Well, I shall be sure to send word if there comes a problem," she says finally.
Reassured to some degree, Isolde gives a nod of her head. "Thank you, Mistress. I shall trust in your abilities." She eyes the dress one more time, considering it as it is being lofted and carried off by Nimue. "Do you need help returning to your home? I can send a few retainers with you and perhaps a cart. The dresses though not very heavy will become a burden with that distance." She offers. The Lady waits to see if it is what the Mistress wishes.
Nimue cannot help but grin. "Thou are kind, milady," she says, using the rustic speech that seems most comfortable with her lilting accent. "But I grew up in the Mire. Lived near the Sevens my whole life. I am not as weak as I am small." She hefts the gowns a little more. "My b'y is downstairs inat kitchens. He is big enough now tae carry my basket. I shall keep the clothing safe for thee."
THere is an understanding nod from the Lady as she smiles. "I trust you will and I will leave you to it then, your task that you seem rather set on. I do hopeto hear back from you and you will be welcome any time.." She offers warmly and then looks to Milicent. "Help the Mistress, please Milicent." Her green eyes flicker back to the seamstress and she dips her head. "I hope it is not too impossible a task, thank you Mistress."
Nimue curtsies behind her big pile of clothing. "Nothing is impossible, milady," the little redhead says with a laugh. "Thou has only to try for it. Think of the Nayland motto." She nods. "I shall send thee the green dress soon." And with that, she is gone.