|Summary:||Isolde's 21st Birthday and Igara gives of her two gifts.|
|Lord and Lady's Chamber - Tower Hall|
|The door opens to show the bed to the left, further from the entrance and the foot settled with a heavy locked chest with a few woven blankets draped over it. The carved posters of the bed hold wrappings of green cloth held by golden tassels, a heavy woolen blanket settled atop the stuffed mattress. On either side of the bed are removeable steps. A thick circular rug has faded over time and with foot traffic and takes up most of the wooden floor. A hearth at the corner of the room directly inward from the door is soot covered and crackling with embers. A heavy oak chest of drawers is fitted into a corner to hold the clothes and blankets of the Lord and Lady. Two chairs are set near the slitted double windows between the hearth and bed.|
|Wed August 3, 288|
The early day has begun to speed things in Tower Hall. Isolde upon her waking found the little basket dressed in ribbons - within? A set of beautifully embroidered slippers of green, beset with gold and russet flowers. Now dressed in her lounging gown and enjoying her morning fast, Isolde sits, lifting her feet to move wiggle the slippers there on. She smiles faintly and draws a piece of sliced apple to her mouth. Ryker had excused himself for the day and for the moment, she sits by herself in peace near the window. Her eyes flicker to a small figurine settled on the table next to the platter of fruit and bread. She draws her green eyes away quickly, moving her hand to draw back the gown to look at the slippers again. The door remains slightly ajar to help with the air flow through the tower, the day already growing humid in the heat.
Igara appears in the doorway without a sound, watching Isolde for a few silent moments, dressed for the day in a simple, modest day-dress of light grey and white, nothing with flashy colors or bold patterns, but which embodies the industrious thrift and modesty in which Igara habitually lives. Noting no husband in the chamber, Igara smiles broadly and rushes on in, trip-tripping over the floor in a brisk run before she tosses herself abed with her cous, giving her a hug. "My cous has had a visit from the Birthday fairy," she remarks brightly, giving Isolde a kiss to the cheek.
The sudden rushed presence is caught by the Lady and she lifts up a laugh as Igara plunges into the bed with her. "Dear Igara.." She chirps and pulls her cousin close. "I have at that..and I do wonder what fairy I know that can do such glorious work? Hmmmm?" She questions, wiggling her feet and then placing a kiss to the woman's cheek in turn. "They are lovely.." She relents, her green eyes looking to the smaller woman. "Beautiful…and I love them. Thank you." She sighs and then appropriately looks to the food, "Hungry? I have yet to dress fully for the day, but it is already so warm I wasn' tsure if I should - besides, I get to enjoy my slippers."
"Let me see them on you," Igara beams, settling back near the foot of the bed and petting her skirts as her legs curl under her. "Put your feet in my lap and I will see how they fit, and give your ankles a tickle," she grins girlishly at the sport. Looking over to the food, "Oh, yes, please, Issie. May I have one of those apple slices please?"
At the request to see, Isolde kicks her long legs to show the slippers a bit more. SHe tilts her head and gazes over towards the platter before reaching crossways for a piece of apple. She settles her feet to Igara's lap and then leands forth with several slices for her benefit. "You really do lovely work, sweet." She intones, curling her toes down to show off the embroidery work with a bend. "Lovely.." She says again with admiration, "You should teach me, my needlework is fair but my embroidery could use some work." She tells Igara, taking up a piece of apple, munching on it.
Igara holds the apple slices in one hand and then sets them on the dress covering her thigh, picking one up and putting it half into her mouth to suckle on while she looks over the fit of the slippers, sliding a pinky finger between the walls of one of them and the arch of her Lady Cousin's foot, lifting her other hand to hold onto the apple slice while she bites through it. "Anyone can embroider well. It only takes the patience not to rush through it and the ability to keep numbers safely in mind." And she munches on apple, giving Isolde's ankle-bone the promised tickling as she does so.
The faint press of the tickle makes her laugh and twitch, drawing her foot back a little. Isolde grins and finishes her piece of fruit before she tilts her head, "Well then I shall have to sit with you and practice, perhaps you will help me concentrate." She sighs and smiles faintly, "Twenty one…it is a wonder I am this old yet." Her smile curls up on one side and she twitches again, laughing faintly before she nods her head, "And your sixteenth birthday is not far off is it? Both late summer birthdays. Perhaps the day exactly between we should hold a great celebration for us both."
Igara tickles the other one with a giddy giggle as the first ankle goes fleeing, finishing up her second apple slice with as much gusto as the first. "How fine a thing that should be," Iggie grins. "But surely not anything too grand. A gathering, with music? People may dance. Ay, me, but I do hope I must not dance. I am awful bad at it."
"Awful? One of your spritely make? I would think to dance circles over the rest of us." Isolde grins and then gasps, trying not to laugh as she draws back her other ankle, knees bent to her chest. "I could teach you the formal dances so that you may dance with the men. It is not unseemingly a thing when in the presence of others. I am sure Ser Wayland would not mind seeing to a dance with you. And I can see if the young Rowan would join us." She offers. Her smiles warms, peering at her curiously.
"I was always so sickly when I was young, I hardly was able to take part in dancing-lessons with my sisters and cousins, but I would stay home and do my needlework. To become skilled in a thing only takes practice, and, ah, I have had ever so much time to practice my hand at stitching," Igara answers with a slip of a smile that fades away with a blanching of color when Isolde offers to invite Rowan. "Rowan was a sickly child, too, and took to his needlework alongside me. I'm fair certain he won't like a dance," she supposes, color returning just a little rosier than before. "But I will gladly dance with the Lord my Cousin if you would show me the steps."
"Ahhh but he dances so well in the melee, I think he could find the steps to see to you rightly, dear cousin." Isolde states and then tilts her haed, "But I would be glad to show you the steps. They are easy enough and if you are so good with numbers and keeping count than dancing shall be an easy task as any." She smiles and keeps her ankles safe from her cousin, grinning a bit.
Igara finishes the last apple slice and then pushes forward onto her knees, leaving the poor ankles alone but coming to lie by Isolde's side and hug up to her as sisters would in sharing a bed, as they shared while Igara was in waiting upon her for her wedding. "He does dance fine with a blade," she remarks, letting her tone sound cautiously fond. "You will show me, then. I am less frail than I was in my girlhood, at least. But I don't know how many dances I could manage in a row without needing to sit."
"The dance is not something to break you….it is mean to be elegant and joyful.." Isolde says and lowers her hand to curl around Igara and keep her close. "You need only do a couple, to dance the night away is not befitting a Lady. I am sure though, that you will be asked quite a bit." She winks and leans into the embrace slightly, a sigh escaping her lips as eyes grow distant in thought. The Lady of Stonebridge says nothing, smiling some.
Igara lets her eyes trace over the contours of the Lady of Stonebridge's face from there in their close quarters, letting the thought of the dance wane from her mind as she takes in the far-away gaze, pressing a slow, soft kiss to her cousin's cheek. "Have you returned the letters?" she asks, just loud enough to be heard in Isolde's ear, thinking that to be what bothers her.
At the suggestion of her thoughts, Isolde smiles and turns to look down at Igara. Giving her a squeeze, she smiles, "Possibly…it is hard not to. Though I will not speak of them. Not today." The Lady insists. With a long breath drawn, Isolde tickles Igara, letting her fingers rise up to her side to try to get the other woman moving. "It is a full day yet, no laying in bed!"
"AaaiiiEEEEEEHEEHEE!" Iggie gives a girlish shrieking when her sides are tickled, and she rolls back onto her back, wriggling out of Isolde's grasp, and then flops about until she rolls off of the other side of the bed, giggling, still, and trying to get her dress back into order. "Me, lay in bed? I was up before the first light of dawn. Come and get out of your robe, tell me which dress you want to wear and I will help you on with it."
Grinning a bit, Isolde moves to stand, resting upon her feet with a wiggle of her slippers. Shifting forward, she hmmms, looking down at the dressing gown she wears. "Not good enough I do suppose…well..you choose. It's my birthday and I always value other opinions. What would suit me?" She asks Igara, moving towards the small setting of three dresses waiting for her. She tilts her head, examining them as her hand lowers to a cream and green dress.
Igara comes around the bed, and to the small copse of dresses. "Oh, cous, the cream is so lovely," she muses on the first one, before moving on to the second, "The yellow here, more radiant, more cheerful. I like the way the collar lays, just so." The third one gets a look, but she looks back to the second, the sunny, deep yellow with the forest green plaiting. "You would certainly stand out in a crowd in this. Do you expect many visitors for your birthday, cous?"
Moving from the cream to the yellow as Igara indicates it. Slowly her fingers brush across the collar as spoken of and then she starts to slide her shoulders out of the dressing ground. "I do not suspect so. My thought is with the wedding just over, it will most likely be forgotten. I am not overly worried of it though.." She admits and slides her feet out of her slippers. "I shall wear the yellow…besides…I received the best gift already." She winks and then dips her head. "If you could help me, Igara."
"I should think your people will be merry to see you in Tordane colors upon your birthday, at any rate," Igara smiles, taking down the gown from its post and folding it carefully to get it into shape to slip over her rather taller cousin, coming close, "Arms up," she calls, stepping up onto her tippy toes to slide it over the arms and into place. "Isolde, did you go and walk with our cousin Wayland in the gardens yesterday?" she wonders as she helps Isolde get dressed.
Turning to face Igara, Isolde dips a bit as she reaches her arms out to be helped into her dress. As it slides down over her chemise, she lowers her hand to her hip to help fix it before she pulls her hair free, letting it drape down her back. The Lady straightens and fixe the front till it falls to gather in all its yellow and green glory. "I think you are right on the colors though..it is too soon to run headfirst…" She turns about and the offers her back for lacing. "I do hope today will just be peaceful. I would like to sit in the gardens and just visit with you. The past weeks have been rather tiring." She pauses before adding, "I did not walk with Wayland after the oath. He was attending me when I came upon the Lady Tenysa."
Igara takes her hands to the laces and fusses at them tenderly with her fingers, first, making sure they will all lay flat and draw evenly when pulled. "As I was down in the main hall last night doing the finishing touches on the slippers, I happened to overhear the Lord Rygar talking with Ser Wayland at table, questioning him as to his loyalties. Ay, me, but there seemed some discontent between them, cous. And afterward the Lord Rygar approached me, and made request that I oversee your interactions with Ser Wayland more closely. I tried to point out that the both of you were cousins, and I could hardly see there being any impropriety of you two walking together, but he bade me take heed, anyhow. Tell me, cous, what lies behind this suspicion between Frey and Nayland? Suspicions do not arise from nowhere, especially between allied houses."
Listening, Isolde shifts with the movement of the bodice being tightened. Her head lifts and she draws her dark hair over one shoulder. Slowly her brows furrow and she casts a glance back over her shoulder at the news. "I see, I had not realized that there was discontent. I think perhaps Ser Wayland grew far too fond of my father, the change has brought about some tender points…but I am certain all will smooth over." Yet she quiets some, giving a shake of her head. "Ser Wayland is a loyal knight and will always be. I am not entirely certan what Lord Rygar is concerned about."
"I'm sure it's all in his head. Evidently he imagined some slight upon the Lord your Husband during Ser Wayland's oath-taking," Igara answers, finally content that all the laces are straight and giving them a series of brisk, tough pulls. "I just thought it worth your while to know that concern was expressed, so that you may act accordingly. I am to go on all of your walks with the knight. I should rather like to, if you don't mind. At least some of them. I've hardly had any time with the Lord my Cousin since I've been here." She gives another sharp tug and ties off the lacing. "Sleeves."
"You are always welcome my cousin, but Lord Rygar should be at east, Wayland is always the gentle Knight. He has long been the one to care for my well being." Isolde turns to offer her arm for the first sleeve, her chin lifting. "But let you be his eyes if that will be…" She grows some what quiet before issuing a breath, "On the Seven, my Lady Cousin, would you be my eyes? I see genuine affection and it is equally given in turn, but in this game of power, I do not wish to be alone. So on the Seven, will you aid me?"
"I will aid you as far as it is in my power, Isolde," Igara answers, brows knitting together even as she laces up the first sleeve, making it poof and then wrap itself tight to the tender limb in stylish alternation. "
"I will aid you as far as it is in my power, Isolde," Igara answers, brows knitting together even as she laces up the first sleeve, making it poof and then wrap itself tight to the tender limb in stylish alternation. "But I have told you my opinion of the… other matter," that shall not be named. "There is much I doubt I could do anything to protect you from. But as far as it is in my power, I will aid you. For you are my cousin, and I would not see harm come to you."
She wish not to speak of it either and Isolde makes no comment. The Lady of Stonebridge dips her head and then gazes finally to Igara fully anew. "My dear cousin, I ask nothing more than what you are able." Once the lacing of her first sleeve is done, she offers the other. "The other matter is to rest, what comes will come of it and we will see in time if others make anything to the rumors." She says and lets out a long breath. "But today, today was to be of peaceful airs and pleasantries, I do not wish to idle from that too far, or ask of you such heavy things."
Igara moves to the other, but coaxes the first around front again so that she can match up the number of laces and create an artful symmetry in the bunching. "Do you want me to bring my Blackbird in? She can sing for us. She has such a pleasant voice. Or we can go out into the gardens and listen for other sorts of birds."
"You have found such joy in the captive bird you have found. I do hope she agrees with you." Isolde says and does as she is bid to allow Igara to match the sleeves. Looking down to the work, she smiles, "Let the little Blackbird remain yours…I do so wish for my father's gardens." It is her one place of refuge. "Such detail you give everything..slippers, sleeves and others alike."
"My Blackbird is a curiosity, cousin. I have told her that she is free to leave. The cage door is open, and yet she remains within, even though I have told her that if the Ironborn return and demand her, I will give her to them. She could flee North and be free as the winds she sings about so well. And yet as long as I do bid her stay with me, she does so. What could this be, cous? It seems wonderous odd." She finishes the second sleeve and draws both Isolde's arms out before her, looking at them side by side and nods her content with their symmetry. "If a thing's to be done, better it be done well, don't you think so, cous?"
"In my experience, those who answer to your word mean you well or find some good in your company. If you have let her free as you say, then perhaps she holds some sort of like to your being, cousin. It is not such an odd thing." Isolde dips her head and looks to the sleeves. "Quite, but sometimes well is an uncertainty. Well enough or just well.." She smiles and then adds, "They are quite well.." She assures her and then turns her hands to take Igara's, gripping them.
Igara's eyes narrow. "It raises suspicion, such fidelity in the face of losing one's life. As if closeness with me garners her something worth risking her life over." She shakes her head, and brightens, "Very well, I'd say. Shall we go then, to the garden?"
"Perhaps it does, dear cousin. Perhaps. Ask it of her." Isolde then nods her head, leaning in to kiss Igara's forehead before releasing her hands. Shoes. The Lady of Stonebridge seeks them and with care slides them upon her foot. A shake of her heel and a wiggle of her toes, hands holding skirts - the task is complete. Turning on her heel, she smiles at her cousin. "Come, the gardens are nearly spent in their blossoms, we shall have petals rain down upon us."