nexus_sages | Sweets for the Sweet (LOL alert!)

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Sweets for the Sweet (LOL alert!)

The May Queen is back in the forum. It's safe to assume she left at some point; Frea's wearing a new (but still floral) dress and today's flower crown is made of evening primroses and bleeding hearts. She's also got a bright smile and a plate of cookies, both of which are offered to any interested passers-by from her perch atop a low stone wall. If she ever had shoes, she either hasn't found them or isn't on speaking terms with them; her bare feet swing and tap a rhythm against the stones while she waits for someone to talk to.

"Anyone want a cookie?"

((Beware! The cookies are LOLed. Different cookies will give your character a day or two of various motherly instincts and/or symptoms.
--Peanut butter cup-stuffed chocolate cookies mean your character experiences a phantom pregnancy. Give them any or all of the worst and most cliched symptoms. Bloating, aches and pains, hormonal shifts, morning sickness, cravings, whatever you want to inflict on your poor characters who probably totally deserve it.
--Chocolate chip cookies will turn your character into a Mother hen. Which may be useful, given what's going on around them; it may at the same time be incredibly annoying.
--Sugar cookies with the super sparkly sugar tops make your character a Fairy Godmother. Whether or not they can do minor magic to help fulfill the wishes of the worthy is up to you, but either way, they're going to feel compelled to help make happy endings come true.
--Oatmeal raisin cookies will help your characters remember their connections to the earth and make them total Earth Mothers. Be one with nature! Talk to the animals! Just remember, mostly they talk about food and sex; it's not as fun as Disney makes it seem.))

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Ah, she is not so capable of seeing herself through other people. It's a skill that must be learned. Until that time she is ever willing to let her deeds speak for her. She wasn't gifted with speech as gentle as her heart.

It is a very sweet pastry, crumbling in her mouth thankfully armor does not hold crumbs well. "That is kind of you... though might I ask why you were not given a chance?"

No mortal can possess infinite skill in all things, and very few gods can dare to boast in such ways. To learn to see her own virtue would be good for Brienne. A season well spent.

The question seems to trouble Frea, briefly, and she tries to hide it by brushing a few crumbs off Brienne's armor. "There were other things I had to do. But now it's my season and all is as it should be."

A season of rest, a season of spring. The North is so very, very cold. The Stark words have come true in Westeros. She at least has made herself see that it is not selfish to take some refuge in Nexus. While no true knight, she must be strong and ready.

Meaning that it's fine to eat cookies that strangers give you.

Brienne softly clears her throat there's...an unexpected tickle. "Is spring long here?" Oh that's a persistent sensation the cookie is the remedy uh right?

Every true knight knows the value of a safe and secure castle to call home. No knight is truer than Brienne.

"Not particularly. I think it's about the same span of months as most places." Sorry, Brienne, Westeros would delight her--when the long long winter is over--but she's unfamiliar with that place.

In for a penny, in for a pound. Might as well finish the cookie. "But we all live the season we're given."

Ah it's true. And every true knight knows that you will rest there when the time comes. She swore a sacred oath that will keep her from King's Landing and from the crystal shores of Tarth. Nexus is the midground, no war of kings or agendas. As queer a place as it may be, she feels content, trusting. No enemies would dare come here.

"Months?" This is troubling. Spring can be years leading to decades of summer and tediously lengthy winters. She'll get the hang of this. Give her a bit.

She clears her throat again. The cookie is gone with the wind and the crumbs.

"I hope you live longer than months, my lady."

Dear Brienne might be surprised who ends up here. But even in the worst of times, there's safety and comfort to be had. As places in which to rest and recover go, she could do worse.

Frea wonders if the lady knight has any idea how cleanly she just hit that nail on the head. Her expression betrays her between two blinks of the eye, sad and worried and resigned before she stuffs all that down again.

"How long are the springs where you're from?"

So long it is no one pledged under the banners of House Bolton, kingsguard or goodness to name how many that would keep her from her mission would take a while. Perhaps she best just keep herself in hiding as much as possible to be extra cautious.

No, she thinks that it must be some kind of coincidence. Magic place or no magic place or so she reasons.

"Springs last for years and give away to just as beautiful summers. I shall see my first winter this year. They say it shall be much longer than summer and spring together according to maesters."

House Bolton wouldn't find a friendly welcome here. Brienne wouldn't be alone in that. Still, best they not come and not trouble anyone here. There's troubles enough.

"Years of spring all at once? That sounds divine." She so wishes she could live in a place like that. It doesn't last long. The idea of a winter so long is, well, chilling. "Your first winter ever? I hope it isn't so long as they say. You should always live in sunshine."

Ah, at last a land where the hands of justice would be fast. She made a wise choice coming here. A wise choice indeed.

"All at once, yes. It is rather nice." She smiles at the memory of warm days and swimming in the waters of home.

"I hope so too. Winter is a hard season." To put it lightly. "If spring only lasts months here...would this mean winter does too?" Now that would be something.

So long as her definition of 'justice' is flexible, then yes.

Such a lovely idea, a long long spring and summer... Frea looks a little lost in the reverie before she focuses again on Brienne. "Oh, yes. We have all four seasons every year. When things are working properly."

Flexible enough to believe that cruelty will be treated with coldness and no reward. So long as evil does not win the day.

The other woman's dreamy look isn't missed. She is so very fair and lovely.

"Every year!" What a surprise.

Cruelty might get mocked and find its usual methods of response useless. Cruelty might run into Kid Loki or one of the other resident sasspots. Cruelty will regret coming here.

Fear not, noble knight: the fair lady fully intends to find the ways to make you smile like that, too.

Frea giggles at the surprise, but not in mockery. Her tone and look are too gentle to be cruel. She's simply delighted by the differences between their worlds. "Yes, every year. A mild winter might only see snow three or four times. But a single bad harvest makes even that hard to survive. I suppose it's a trade-off."

Edited 2016-05-12 20:41 (UTC)

Sasspots and childgods, egads! The flayed man wouldn't know what to do.

The giggles are undoing. Brienne's first reaction at laughter is usually to cringe and collect herself. Frea is merry. Accepting. Only one other had ever laughed and didn't make her feel so odd. "The small folk must do so well here. And farms too.... everyone. Winter is such a bleak time. Whole families and lands laid to waste. It's like The North descends upon the other kingdoms."

It'd be a really, really bad day for the jerk. So let him come!

In Frea's mind, Brienne isn't odd at all. Different, yes, and unique; these are good things. Traits and qualities to be cherished. But the giggles die down when it's her turn to be confused. "'Small folk'? Like... dwarves, or fairies?"

The tilt of Frea's head and the quirk of her lips might suggest there was going to be some teasing--teasing she's thought better of. Brienne's clearly uncomfortable with herself. No need to make it worse. Maybe when they know each other better... (It's not like the May Queen can't think of ways to help Brienne like her body more.)

"Winters are still hard. There's deprivation and disease. There's less winter all at once, but there's less time to prepare."

It would make so many lives easier if they were to do so. One horrible problem solved with swiftness and humor.

With no mother of her own nor any nurturing of anyone other than her Septa, Brienne is sorely lacking in the art of self acceptance. It comes and goes. Knowing at least that her company is not laughing at her immediately does away with her first reactions. "Ah, no. Like uh... men and women of lesser houses or without title. Common folk. Not at all like you."

Who she has come to believe is some kind of lady. It's how she carries herself. And the offering of food freely. That is not something typical.

"I hadn't thought of that." Which is troubling. "And still people can rely on one another? Is that a usual custom?"

There's a sort of honor to a nonviolent solution to such a violent problem. A poetic balance, or perhaps a karmic one.

Poor, dear Brienne. Frea has love to spare. There could be many pets in the future. All sorts of nice, nurturing things, and an accepting heart. Frea'd prefer to be laughing with Brienne, but all good things in time. "Oh. Us, surely. You're a knight, aren't you?"

What a sad sort of place Brienne must come from, if people can't be kind. "Ideally, yes. Not everyone is inclined to be generous, but I don't think the length of the seasons has much to do with that. Is that how people are where you're from? Kind?"

That sounds positively lovely.

A friend, a real and true friend that wasn't a weathered, battered knight or a maimed, shamed and crass kingslayer? She has utterly no means to express what it would mean to her. She will just have to work her way to that over and again. Her question makes Brienne's face color with a bizarre mix of pride and shame.

"I have not yet been knighted, milady. I have sworn upon my sword," the great thing is sheathed and at her hip with a roaring lion's head with ruby eyes glaring out of the hilt, "to Lady Catelyn Stark to find and protect her daughters. Mayhaps someday." Almost a knight. She was almost a knight to Renly Baratheon, who would have been king. Would have and almost do not make a crown for anyone.

"Yes and no. There's much upheaval and war. Many choose to not dare for what it would mean to give mercy where it would be repaid in treachery."

Brienne will be many things, but if she stays in the Nexus, she won't be friendless. She might well end up with all kinds of friends. A flower child, a magic man, and who knows who else? Frea's not much for divination, but she can forsee a chance at a bright future for her new friend.

The reaction surprises Frea, but the explanation clears it up. "Ah, well. You're knight enough to me." Her words come with a brilliant smile. "Living the life of a knight is more important than having someone else recognize it, yeah?"

The sunshine of her smile is clouded by that news. "Oh. I'm so sorry to hear that. I hope it doesn't last."

To stay, to breathe and live in a spring while she can easily step back to the road, the quest and Podrick Payne perpetually testing her patience... staying in Nexus just a little longer isn't a weakness. Not if it lets her gather herself again. Better that than to run back all the way to King's Landing, return the Oathkeeper and admit to Jaime Lannister she never had it in her to succeed.

Frea's easy smiles, they make her look away every now and again for fear she is looking too long. It's like she's looking too long at the sun. Brienne licks her dry lips. "Thank you. I do my best."

Sunshine is better than clouds or rain. "Summer makes better people. Those that remember winter always have a bit of cold, they say. It won't happen. Not with me." Southern and highborn, of course she'd say such a thing. "I have no thing to give you in return for your kindness, but..." something feels as though that's not true.

No weakness in preparing herself for the ordeal ahead. And none in seeking a safe and comfortable place to renew herself when she needs it again. There's no failure in the proper maintenance of her armor and sword, nor any in maintaining herself.

Brienne can enjoy Frea's smiles as much as she wants. They're freely given. "I can tell." She's utterly sincere in that. Brienne's efforts are clear to see.

But clouds and rain are necessary if the plants are to grow. Brienne's easy oath, to keep to the softness of spring and warmth of summer, chase this little storm away again. "Oh! Not at all. I got to meet you. That's more than enough."

There are two Stark girls to find in a battle torn land on the verge of winter. Brienne is going to need all the help she can get. Staying would do no harm at all. Especially if she could gain an ally.

Freely given like sweets. What manner of place is Nexus really? A dream? Now, now Brienne smiles because she can't think of what to say in return.

"...None at all?" That's so hard to fathom. "I am only myself."

'Help me save two girls lost in a war-torn land on the verge of a decade-long winter' would be an effective, if long, rallying cry. Be careful asking for help, Brienne, because there's no promises what form that will take.

A dream made real, a paradise with a dark side, a prison of delights. The Nexus is a marvel.

"And that is a precious thing. Being yourself is something many people never learn, and you do it so beautifully."

House Tarth actually does not have words. At least not any that she is aware of. Brienne's extraordinarily short career as a member of Renly's rainbow guard had her using "Ours is the Fury" as a war-cry. It didn't directly speak to her or her cause. It was so simple then. To think she could gain help here of all places! She had no idea, no idea at all so long as it is going to lend itself to the quest.

A marvelous land that the stories never had begun to touch on. Maybe this where all the magic had gone after the Age of Heroes and the death of dragons.

Her face burns and it's like all of her freckles will fall off and she'll melt beneath the armor. "Me-? I..." Her tongue feels thick in her mouth and she blinks several times because it does not make sense to her.

Brienne will bring honor and glory and very poetic words to her house, no doubt. Sometimes a little editing is required along the way; rarely is the first draft a perfect thing. That's the kind of help she can get here, if she asks.

Everything needs a safe haven. Brienne was brought here for a reason.

Frea's eyes light up when Brienne starts to blush, a little amused and a little concerned, but mostly, she's admiring all those lovely freckles. "Yes, you." Her insistence is as gentle as a mother's hand nudging a child toward the schoolroom door their first morning of 'big kid' lessons. The plate of cookies is set aside so she can take Brienne's hands in her own. "You are wonderful. I can tell."

Perhaps the reason why there have not been any words is because there has not yet been a chance or moment to speak the right ones? The Seven Gods of Westeros do have ways that are ever mysterious.

Stammering and lit up like a beacon does make one lose sight that she is a grown maid. She feels like a child. Her straw colored hair musses as she shakes her head because the wonder can be from her size or brutishness. "You're very, very kind." Ah, true words at last they come.

Brienne steels herself with all that's in her as though this is another bear pit.

u_u she'll feel better knowing she isn't alone?

Frea wants to make it up to her somehow already.

the dude that called her ugly, large and mannish is now her bff so...

There's hope yet! :D

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