|In the Godswood|
|Summary:||Darek and Sela chat in the forest sept.|
|Date:||22 August 2012|
|The Forest Sept, Highfield|
|It is a small clearing of seven trees engraved with the symbols of the Seven.|
|August 22, 289|
The sun hangs low amidst the foliage of the forest that used to be Tall Oaks, and there is a certain stillness settled over the little clearing of the seven trees. Somehow, the soft, whispering sound of the fiddle fits in and around that stillness without disturbing it, a natural sort of sound like the gauziest of breezes. The little clearing with its carved trees is a little ways from the path back to the reclaimed cottage, but the pathway is well within earshot of the makeshift nature-sept. Darek sits crosslegged in the midst of the tiny clearing, his eyes closed and his upper body swaying lightly to the play of his bow across the strings of his fiddle.
That soft, whispering sound of the fiddle is what draws dear Sela from that path. She had been on her way for their evening rendeavoux, a satchel of food bouncing lightly on her hip. She had once more cashed in on a few minor jobs about the township and was able to buy what will become a wonderful dinner. In those boy's clothes and hat to boot, she steps off the path to follow the soft and seducing music. When she steps into the clearing, she does so with an air of amazement. Her gaze falls upon the swaying squire, and a small smile starts to warm her cheeks. She does not seem willing to interrupt him yet, gently stepping forward and into the hallowed clearing.
The music sways upward to an etherial vibrato, Darek's fingers trembling on the strings before his hands still and the music fades. There is a soft smile on his lips, his eyes remaining closed for a long, silent moment. Lowering fiddle and bow, his dark eyes make a reappearance from behind his lashes as he starts to roll up to his feet. The motion halts in a bit of a crouch as he detects the presence of another, and his head whips 'round, a sudden tension filling his body. When he recognizes the intruder, however, the tension leeches entirely free, and he completes his rise to his feet, "Hullo, Blue-eyes." Even his words are a little hushed here, a similar tone to the one he took back in the Sept at The Roost.
Sela lifts her hand almost automatically to stop the boy from reacting rashly to her unannounced presence. "Easy there, Squire," she says with a warm note in her soft soprano. When he says that sweet petname, a soft smile starts to build on her lips. She inclines her head to him before she steps forward toward him. "Hi," she greets softly as she adjusts her satchel across her torso. She glances around this place, looking over the seven trees. "So, it is real," she murmurs to herself as she hones in on the lantern of the crone, reaching out to touch the crude engraving. "The gods have come to their senses and joined the trees," she teases softly, looking over her shoulder to him.
Darek watches her move over to the lantern-carving, moving slowly over to join her alongside it, his left hand coming up to rest just at the small of her back, "Well, even I can't built a whole sept myself. So I found one the gods'd already made." There's a pause, and the hand with his bow in it gestures idly around the area as if searching for the right words, "I just put their mark on it so everyone could see, I guess." There's an almost bashful tone to that statement, and he raises the tip of the bow to scratch at the back of his neck with it.
"You did this?" Sela asks, obvious amazement in her voice. Perhaps she is not judging the squire fairly, but to make his own sept is quite incredible. "I rather like this one better than any I have ever been in," she says a bit warmer now as she casts a glance toward the boy. His hand at her back causes her to relax a bit, and she offers a small smile. "It kind of reminds me a weirwood. Maybe the trees will start popping up with signs of the Seven on their bark and us Northerners won't look so crazy to worship trees." She offers him a small wrinkle of her nose.
Darek nods his head a little warily at the first question, "Yeah. There's no sept about, and I wanted some place to think and pray." Again, there's a bit of a bashful toe-twist to his tone, even if his stance doesn't really reflect it. The compliment, however, returns a smile to his face, and the words that follow draw a laugh to his lips, "No, I still think you're crazy, Blue-eyes," despite the words, there's an undeniably fond tone to his voice, "Hadn't even thought that this'd be more like what you're used to." There's an exaggerrated casualness to the words, followed by a pause, and again a bashful little admission, "Okay, so maybe I did think about it. Just for a second."
Sela scowls playfully, giving the boy a hard shove of her shoulder. "I'm not crazy," she says reproachfully before she touches the tree again, admiring the engraving once more — though she laughs brightly to the consideration the boy has given to his act. She blushes just a little bit after that. "Really?" She asks coyly before she reaches out to touch his hand with hers, a shy teenage gesture. "It's not so crazy, you know," she says, only a wee bit defensively. "The gods listen to us just as the Seven listen to you." She slips her fingers around his slowly, offering his hand a shy squeeze.
Darek lets himself stagger back at the shove, his grin flashing a dimple into one cheek. When she reaches out for his hand, however, he turns it over to take hers, squeezing gently, "I don't think it's crazy, not like not liking music'd be." He shrugs a little helplessly, "I just don't get it." He looks down to where their fingers interlace, "And yeah. Really. I thought of it after I found this place. Figured maybe if I started seein' the Seven on the trees instead of walls of a sept, that maybe I'd get what you think. What you feel. Y'know…" There's that bashfulness again.
The bashfulness is strange to Sela, and she turns to face him fully while his hand remains gently twined with hers. With a tilt of her head, she regards the squire with those brilliant blue eyes. They search his familiar browns, allowing them to slip into a familiar silence. "You really are trying, aren't you?" Sela asks after a moment, a threat of a smile starting to bud on her lips. "You really do like me, don't you?" She asks with a bit less coyness in her voice, and more amusement. "You don't do this for all the girls in the taverns, you don't even do this for the ones you kiss."
Darek blinks at the questions, shaking his head for a moment before he hesitates, shrugs, nods slightly, "Yeah. Blame Ser." His bow-hand pinwheels a moment, searching for purchase, "For the trying. I mean. Not for the trying. For the… fuck. Words suck ass." He grumps, making a slashing sort of motion that causes his bow to hum softly. Throughout it all, he keeps his fingers twined with hers, "Yeah, Sela. I like you. You're cute, and funny, and sexy, and fun to be around, and so I'm tryin'. Tryin' to figure out what makes you who you are. Sometimes I fell like I don't know shit about you, and sometimes I feel like I know everything." He grasps for the right words again, and gives up, shrugging, "Damn it. Words are hard."
A warm smile continues to build on her lips, her lightly freckled nose wrinkling fondly. "Yeah," she says, as if to encourage more of these compliments; though as he finds himself struggling to find his words, she offers him a soft tug on his fingers to draw him around to face her fully. She toes up onto the balls of her feet as she presses a kiss to his lips as if to steal that nervousness away from him. There is a soft nuzzling against his mouth and nose, brushing it along his own. "I'm a thief from Flint's Finger, I'm the bastard girl of Garett Westerling; I want to be more than just those things, but they are what I am." She lifts her blue eyes to his, and a soft smile builds at her lips once more. "You don't have to use words, you know," she says in a more heated whisper.
Darek returns the kiss with a bit of relief, back to something he knows well enough. He waves off the explanations of who she is, "I don't give two shits about all that." There's a pause, "Well, maybe the second one." And then she gives him that heated whisper and it's like 'ding!' the light goes on in his head. Hanging his bow carefully from a blunt metal sort of hook on the sling of his fiddle, he frees his left hand from her right with a gentle squeeze. Leaning down, he presses a long, slow kiss with a steadily building fire to her lips, only to break from it suddenly, swoop down, and try to scoop her up and over his right shoulder with a laugh, "Don't care who you were, Blue-eyes. Just who you are… and maybe what I'm gonna do to you."
"About the second one," she starts to say before he sweeps her into another kiss. Her arms twist up around his shoulders, and she pops up onto the very tips of her toes as to not strain the poor boy's back with their height differences. There is a sweetness between their kiss, but it is swiftly overshadowed by the passion that cannot be denied. Here in this holy place, with the carved trees and the soft canopy light, she might even be on the brink of other emotions that she has never voiced. They are left unspoken however as he sweeps down to scoop her up over his shoulder, which incites a sudden squeak. "I'm not even sure who I am!"
Darek enjoys that kiss to its fullest extend, but his grin slams deep dimples into his cheeks as he bounces her almost-carefully up onto his shoulder, his left hand coming free to give her a slightly-sharp pat on the backside, "Well, once you figure it out, be sure to let me know, yeah?" If only he knew what he just missed. Starting out toward the path that runs a short distance from the forest-sept, he cheerfully inquires, "Right… about that second one. Before I go gettin' all down and dirty with some knight's daughter."
With the thief potato-sacked as it were over the squire's shoulder, she scoffs a bit before returning the swat to his backside. She tilts her head a bit though as he hones in on the topic of her father, and she clears her throat a bit. "Uh, he kinda wants to meet you," she says casually enough as she twists a bit to try to look at him despite the very awkward position on his shoulder. "I kinda told him about you."
Darek 'heys' at the return-swat, his hand remaining in place on her backside, perhaps even caressing a little. Both his hand and his steps stop dead at her throat-clearing, and he twists his head back to look at her face over his shoulder. "Wait. What?" That's to the first statement. The second doesn't cause him any undue problem, but he ducks down to set her feet on the ground once more, stepping back as he studies her features closely, "He wants to meet me? This knight Da of yours? Who didn't know you all your life? Why's he want to do that?" There's a pause, and then very quickly, "He doesn't know that we…?"
Sela blinks as she is set down, looking as if she is about to object. Wasn't he suppose to be taking her off to the cottage? She looks up into those brown eyes with her own wide stare before she purses her lips thoughtfully. "He's tryin', Darek. I'm tryin' to be supportive of that. Ain't like he's asking for your intentions or anythin', he just wants to meet you." Then she offers him a soft snort, shaking her head. "Are you crazy? I'm not about to tell my da' that we've been rollin' around together. I told him we kissed, that all." She crosses her arms at her chest, sticking out her jaw indignantly. "You gotta promise you will." Then she twists a bit on the balls of her feet as she steps forward a bit. "I'll make it up to you…"
Darek scrubs one hand back through his hair, holding it back out of his face with one hand, "Okay, see now, that's an important detail to know, so I can tell him the same story. Wait, gotta promise I'll what?" He shakes off the question at the step forward and the promise, "I'm sure you will." And then he bends down again to pop her back up on that right shoulder with another pat on her ass, "Right. You'll have to tell me what I've gotta promise, and what you told him, and how you're going to make it up to me… while we're up in that little loft at the cottage, seein' just how loud you get."