|One Miss Two Miss|
|Summary:||Isolde bumps into two Misses in the Town Square.|
|Date:||21 Aug 2011|
|Town Square — Hag's Mire|
|The Town Square is smaller than most that might be found in the surrounding towns in the Riverlands. This area is more compacted than the others and the thatched roof that top most of the wooden frames provide a slightly smaller vantage of the sky overhead. The shops here are generally open faced to the elements which also provides for a much more crowded and vigerous social atmosphere. In the distance the tower can be seen jutting skyward from the muddy peninsula.|
|Sun August 21, 288|
It is a boggy day in the Mire. Isn't that how it always starts? But it's no more boggy than usual, and the town square is busting with people moving about their daily business. Among them is Senna, a light cloak serving to keep the worst of the occasional mist off of her shoulders and a light reed basket over one elbow. At the moment, she's shouldered her way to a stand selling produce, chatting comfortably with the farmwife working the stand. "When do you think the strawberries will be ready, Beth?" she asks, reaching for a bundle of spring onions. "I need a bit of a sweetener, and the beets aren't the same complexity."
The saddle has been given up to that of the work of her slippered feet. Isolde lets the sworn assigned to her lead her horse fashioned in Nayland colors. A simple dress of blue linen is somewhat sheltered beneath the wrapped cream linen about her shoulders, her dark hair spilling free beneath the self made hood. As she moves through the smallfolk and the erected market square for the day, most don't recognize her at first till they see the sworn on the move behind her, distantly. She begins to put some distance between them and she hooks a hand into her skirts as she pauses, lifting them from the soiled earth to cast a look to the fresh produce. Edging her way closer, she begins to weave amongst the smallfolk with no apparent need to beckon them out of her way, they just move as they would and she not far behind Senna as she peers over one of the extremities of the spread of food, her hand lowering to touch over the small potatoes.
"Should have strawberries in the next week or two, Senna," Beth answers, tipping her chin toward the onions. "Those're half the price if you'll buy more, though. Coming up like weeds in back of the cottage." Senna arches a brow at that, tossing a few more bundles into her basket. "They'll keep," she smiles easily to the other woman, half-turning to check on the beets just above the potatoes. She looks up as she does, taking note of the woman standing near her. "Lady Nayland," she greets with a smile, though she lowers her voice enough not to call attention to her. "I didn't expect to run into you here." There's a flick of her skirts, the suggestion of a curtsey, though to those nearby it would look as though she just dropped something and is checking where it landed.
Standing near one of the produce stalls, Isolde has somehow lost the close range of her sworn who are still making their way towards her with horse in tow. For the moment, the Lady stands near Senna next to a produce stall before she is found out. The hidden curtsey is given a grateful nod and she looks up at Senna. Straightening, she brushes a hand to her plain linen dress and shifts the cowl of her shoulder wrap. "I feel you have me at a disadvantage, Miss. How is that you know me and I do not know you?" Her green gaze takes a moment to flicker around those moving about them, most having missed the recognition of her person thankfully though a few watch carefully and whisper.
Trudging through the heat with a lidded basket made from beautiful water-coloured reeds is the lithe form of one red-headed green-eyed clothier. She pauses at the sight of Senna and turns in her direction. "Senna! Are you going to the keep?" she calls out as she picks her way through the crowds. Drawing abreast, she startles a little to find the Lady Isolde there. "What in the name of the Seven are you doing here, milady?" she gasps softly. "And in those -clothes-!" She sighs, pained. "We really must get you inside somewhere before people see you dressed like a commoner…" She clucks her tongue.
Senna's lips quirk as she looks up at Isolde through her lashes. "Why because you're the Lady Nayland," she answers with a low laugh, picking up a few beets from the bin. "And I'm nobody. But they call me Senna, m'lady," she adds, looking up with an easy smile. "Senna Delacourt. I'm usually to be found around the keep, but I've been away the last week or so, carrying messages. Trust you're settling in all right? Beth, do you have any ginger this week?" she asks, glancing up from the offerings at the call from the crowd. "I'll be up as soon as I've gathered a few things for my stores," she calls back. "Did you need something brought?"
Regarding Senna, Isolde muses over this and then smirks a bit. "I see, Miss Senna." Though the voice of Nimue rises up and her head turns, eyes widening as she is quite found out. The sworn though are next give away and she worries her cheek with her teeth. "Well, I had thought to not ruin one of my nicer dresses walking about on foot, Nimue. You must forgive me." She muses ruefully with a faint smile for the clothier. "So you both are in service to the Naylands in a more indepth form." Her hand lowers to brush over her dress a moment, "I do not think I look too plain in such a thing, do you, Miss Senna?" Her eyes glint with a hint of mischeif.
Nimue cuts her eyes to Senna and she sighs. "My -dearest- Lady," she says softly. "Do please let's get you properly attired? It's my job to make sure that you have clothing befitting your station. And I've five such lovely dresses for you to try on…" She pauses, looks at Senna again. "Senna here does a bit of ladies' maid work. Let's go back to the Keep, try on the dresses and make a few adjustments… Senna can do your hair for you so you can see how you like it." She lowers her voice. "I've also got some jewelry from a trader that's in town for the week. They go very well with the outfits…"
"You look like my cousin from Acorn Hall way," Senna answers Isolde easily, looking up with an answering smile. "Come to visit the Mire. Why Lilah, I never thought to see you here! What a pleasant surprise." She adds a few potatoes to her basket, then a small burlap bag of oats before turning that smile on Nimue, wry. "Or we can go back and play with dresses," she agrees with a low laugh, arching a brow to Isolde to leave the decision to the Lady.
There is a decisively bright laugh at Senna's display and Isolde tilts her head in amusement. Poor Nimue. "Why Senna, I could not leave you all alone to fester in this Mire. Though I do think the dear clother grows tired of such antics, don't you?" But the sworn are there and any antics are for naught now as a few eyes follow the three women. She looks from Senna to Nimue and a warm smile cuts that glint in her eye. A nod is offered. "So much for fresh air then, I would be glad to see of what you have made. I must admit my wardrobe has been rather light on choices." The Lady says and then motions to a sworn, "Help the Misses and we shall walk back together."
The two without the horse step forward to help unburden Senna and Nimue with whatever they deem to give over to their attentions. "Continue your shopping, Miss Senna. When are ready, we can go and I will have a retainer deliver your goods to your home."
Beth does indeed have a small, wrapped piece of ginger for Senna, earning a grateful look from the woman. "You're the best, Beth," she smiles broadly, taking the packet and slipping it into her basket. The amount of coins she passes over is slightly higher than the value of her goods so far, though neither party makes any comment to that effect. "Let me know if you need any more of the tincture for Sam, hmm?" she adds before turning back to Isolde with a wry smile. "I've got everything I need, m'lady. Best we get moving. Nim's a tyrant, you know."
Nimue wrinkles her nose. "I am -not- a tyrant," she says stubbornly, but there's a twinkle lurking in her eyes at the friendly fun-poking. "Alright then. My Lady? With your leave?" She gestures, much like someone accustomed to herding small children.
"I guess then I must give it yes? Then very well." She says with a smile. Isolde then nods to the sworn and takes up a pace back towards the Fortress. "Give the sworn whatever you need help with." She instructs and takes a hold of her skirts in one hand. "I will have to keep my eye on her." Isolde says of Nimue to Senna.
"Dreadful tyrant," Senna insists with a sober nod, even as she grins toward the seamstress. "Hasn't anyone told you? It's her and the old dowager who run the Mire. Best watch out for Lady Rebekkah. Makes Nimue look like a kitten." She doesn't seem to have any problem handing her basket off to the sworn with a few murmured directions to her room before falling in with the other women. "So how many dresses has she fitted you for?" she asks Isolde. "You've been here a week or so I heard. Five?"
Nimue laughs. "Lady Rebekkah is quite fine enough to be around so long as you mind your manners," she says with a grin. "Well, and where you step." She shakes her head, however. "I've fitted her for more than that, but I'm still weaving the cloth of gold for one dress and I've a handful more that are in various stages of the process. But I've five for you to try on now, milady." She does NOT hand over her basket. Them's valuables inside there! And everyone knows the dire fate of clothing in the hands of a man…
"Ahh the Lady Dowager. Though she is a fierce opponent I am sure, in many things, she is not all to be feared. She is a woman. In that we share a connection. Woe be to all the men." Isolde says with a faint smile. "I did enjoy the tea we took together the other day." Admits the new Lady Nayland." Her gaze moves to Nimue at the mention of dresses and she shakes her head, "To be honest, I know not the number she has prepared, though by all accounts I am sure it is at least that, maybe more. My poor wardrobe.." She mock laments. Then Nimue gives hints and numbersa nd she lifts a brow, her lips parting. "Aye, me!" She exclaims. "It shall be the highlight of my stay." She says warmly, her voice hitching on the 'stay'.
"I am envious," Senna sighs dramatically to Isolde as she walks. "Nim may be a tyrant, but you'll find no finer dresses in the Riverlands. You'll be a sight, m'lady." From shopping, she falls all too easily into the role of a ladies maid, even if she's looking around at the people passing by, taking note of who's in town and where they're headed.