nexus_sages | made waves with some friends I know

"--and it can't be so wrong if I'm comfortable with people seeing me this way." The May Queen is ready for the beach, so ready! Bikini, a crown of lady's mantle and African lily, a basket of goodies (not of the baked good variety, she has a feeling Matt would not trust those for some reason), and of course, her constant companion.

Frea loves and adores Brienne, but sometimes, having such a modest companion can make life more difficult. The May Queen is many things, but modest is not one of them. Not in the ways Brienne would understand it.

"Anyway, I'm wearing something over it. So everything's fine." Because a tunic so sheer it's practically see-through makes everything better. (At this point she may just be trying to mess with Brienne.) "And if I'm going to wear something to please you, you should wear something to please me."

"Your comfort is paramount. That is not what I was trying to say," not even a whole day in the sun and with her newest and dearest friend and Brienne is red in the face. No, that's not a burn. Tucked up under her arm is a thick blanket, Oathkeeper is there because Brienne takes it everywhere with her. And one never knows about what happens by the sea.

Pirates obviously. Let's not drip and fall into the countless times Frea has told her such things aren't done that way here. There are more pressing matters to dissect.

"...it looks like a shift. Over does not mean covered." What about her virtue? What about uncalled for attention from men? Okay, that's another reason why Oathkeeper is here. What kind of a guard would she be?

They slow in their stroll and Brienne's brow furrows. "I thought you said this was a pleasing choice." It is one of Frea's suggested choices... that has been promptly covered up.

If it were a burn, Frea could help her get rid of it.

Technically, she could help with the blushing, but they both know that's not going to happen.

No pirates, and more's the pity; she'd rather like to meet a pirate. The fun, story-book kind. A Captain Hook or somesuch. Actual pirates would be less fun and more work. Not fitting for a party at all.

"I think it is a shift." Someday, Brienne may figure out that Frea dresses like this because she wants the men to look at her. And the women. And the everything. It'll be a whole different debate when that happens. Maybe she'll learn to appreciate the view. Or maybe not; it's nothing she hasn't seen before. For now, Frea just sighs at Brienne's comment about her shift, a sound that somehow conveys a hint of laughter and a lot of affection, given it's mostly breath.

"You look beautiful. But there's a little something missing." Frea reaches up into her crown and plucks out a stem of lilies, which she tucks behind Brienne's ear. "There."

So her face shall stay in some berry hue. Her tactic thus far has been simply ignoring it. And Frea only seems to cheer and grin, Brienne is sure her mood would be just as light even without making her flush. So why talk about that.

Any pirate here will hopefully not be ironborn. A story-book kind would be a very fun change of pace. And oh so welcome to the party. Beyond them the canopy and layout is welcoming. It tugs at the strings of Brienne's heart.

Oh she does appreciate the view. Knowing that she is a lovely woman also leads Brienne to believe that it is not befitting to look so frankly on her. "If it pleases you not wear it, I shall not say another word more." This whole concept of getting close to naked is more difficult in practice than when it was first explained.

Habitually she bites her tongue against refusing her compliment and smiles. "Oh--" No one gives her flowers, no one with a straight face. "Thank you."

Frea's mood is rarely less than cheerful when Brienne's around, and frequently more. Blushing, not blushing, awake, asleep, it doesn't seem to matter much. The particular kind of good cheer she's in depends very much on her companion's moods and behavior, however. It's a subtle sort of balancing act, acting and reacting to each other, that they're practicing.

The fact Brienne looks so pleased with the party softens the teasing edge on Frea's smile. A little taste of home, maybe?

"I do appreciate your opinion, Brienne," she offers quietly. "And I'm glad you're looking after me. Thank you." Uh oh. Look out. That's a kiss incoming and it's aimed at Brienne's berry-red cheek.

"You're welcome." She'll take a moment to admire everything and especially that smile. "So, what first: food, swimming, dancing?"

Being so often in the company of the little May Queen she hasn't noted a difference. Her own mood is improved while with Frea. She is so active, so lively. There's no way for Brienne to fall into the worries that try to penetrate the armor clad notions she has put up to protect herself.

Now that they're closer, the sound of the water, the sight of the waves crashing. It is very much like home.

Her expression softens and she's about to try and re-explain her strong notions again when the small kiss about short circuits everything. A simple thing, a short contact and her knees don't feel reliable and the breath in her lungs stop. Brienne blinks and clears her throat.

"Swimming, yes. Swimming I should think."

The frequent and easy improvement of both their moods makes it all worthwhile. So worthwhile. Not that they need the excuses, but it's nice to have the success of seeing Brienne happy and untroubled for whole moments at a time.

Frea's got a hand under Brienne's elbow, just in case she needs a little extra support. It doesn't look like much of a touch, but it's surprisingly solid. The way she's smiling up at Brienne suggests she knows.

"Swimming it is. Let's find a spot for our stuff." Brienne has blankets and protection; Frea's got things to make themselves a little shelter to keep the sun off and keep their stuff from getting covered in sand. Not the first they've built together, and won't be the last.

Whole moments with out a worry. Who could have possibly known!? Not Brienne. The Seven have given her a wonderful gift in Frea. That's the only explanation she has.

Solid touch, and so real. How can it be so dream like at the same time? The way the light catches on her hair and the flowers seem more fresh and a live on her head. Oh her face could color all over again. Bother.

"It seems to be clear over here." Their structures are growing easier and stronger with each undertaking.

If Brienne is very good, she might get a whole day without worrying about anything more than what Frea's wearing. Wouldn't that be glorious? Truly, a divine gift.

There are reasons for the way Brienne is feeling, but would she believe them if she were told?

"Excellent choice." It gets easier with practice and teamwork. Sometimes their height difference even helps: Brienne can hold things up and Frea can do the low work. So, frame arranged, sheets draped and tied off, blanket spread... "Perfect. Thank you."

A whole day? The intervals have become longer and longer. It's like a dream, a song and all pleasant things beyond her touch at home. Which makes it more bitter when she finds that it's a place she misses. Nexus is beautiful, kind and safe.

Brienne has to warm up to new things. She would believe in time. For now feelings are on her so hard and fast if they were weapons she'd be dead.

Holding things, weight down, tying. "I like it very well myself." She stands back to examine their work. The wind is gentle and it holds well. Brienne slips her sword beneath the blankets. Just in case.

The Nexus is full of lovely things, but home is home. The desire to fit in burns hot in most people. There's no shame in it. But while she's here, in this safe place, Frea hopes to help Brienne learn to carry her worries without letting them control her.

All in her own good time.

"We make a good team." Since they'll be going swimming, that means Brienne will have to contend with Frea taking off that shift. First, though, she takes off her flower crown and hangs it from one corner of their tent, treating it gently and making sure it's secure. The handful of fabric is pulled off and flung onto the blankets with considerably less care.

"Ready to swim?" Obviously, Brienne is not. Surely she doesn't mean to swim in that kaftan?

Why couldn't Westeros be as Nexus is? That is also something that really does muddle with her emotions. So many would benefit. But then again it's harshness has no place in a land of peace. They are not meant to overlap, in those ways. Here she will take in Nexus' safety and enjoy every bit that she can.

Like so many of Frea's smiles.

"That we do, yes." Frea removing her crown makes Brienne remember her own flower she places it under the canopy and off to the corner so that it won't be crushed.

"Y--erm." That's right. She is covered up. She clears her throat and pulls up at the fabric. There's so much of it. Off of her it could be some one's blanket or tent, couldn't it? There. Now it is off. Her arms aren't sure of what to do after she sets it down with the virtually see through thing that Frea had on a moment ago. They are quite the pair.

Because with nothing to compare it to, even the most idyllic peace means nothing. Through the knowing of harshness, people learn to appreciate the gentle; the knowing of war defines the knowledge of peace. There is no rainbow without the rain.

Brienne can have all the smiles she'd like. Why, look, here comes another one: the confirmation they're a good team has her grinning again.

More of her means there's more to love. Frea never comments negatively on Brienne's size. If things get awkward, they'll find a way around it and carry on. No big deal. No more than the fact Frea's so slight in comparison. Frea knows exactly what Brienne should do with her arms, or at least her hands: she should give them to Frea to hold because she's reaching for them. "That suit looks good on you. C'mon, let's put it to good use."

It does damper her hope to someday (and already this is a notion my, my, my) to have Frea visit. But one cannot exist without the other. That's why there are seasons to balance and the one god has seven faces.

A smile comes to her own lips too and taking her friend's hands now has her in the moment once again. "Thank you. Yours... it is an excellent choice." Which would gain attention. Yes. Brienne looks up from Frea's belly button back to her face. "Shall we have a race?"

Brienne doesn't give Frea enough credit if she doesn't think Frea could survive a visit. But then, Frea hasn't given Brienne much of a chance to see her as anything but soft and lovely. They're both so wrong and yet, so right...

Ah, there it is, the elusive smile she so adores. "Thank you." Yes, there's so much to see isn't there? Her belly button isn't what she usually considers her best feature, but whatever makes Brienne happy.

"A race?" She glances at Brienne, top to toe and back, then grins. "Sure. What's the winner get?"

Too many women have been wronged. And they are of various strengths. It's true that Frea still is some sort of fabled royalty to her. The image is so very difficult to shake. Then again, there is no way that a princess of old would be standing with her and be so dear so fast to Brienne the Beauty.

And it makes her smile the more. Belly button was the most neutral place she could find that wasn't her shapely legs or well shaped bosom. Ahem.

"The winner gets to keep the most impressive shell in the other's possession." Oh. They're going to collect shells by the way. It is decided.

The thing about fairy tales and fables is that anyone can stumble into one. Brienne should be grateful hers has such a nice reprieve.

Brienne can stare at any or all of those places, if she wants. If the flat pale expanse of Frea's stomach seems safer, that's okay too.

"Hmm." Frea considers the implications of that challenge before giving a nod. Swimming, then something to eat, then collecting shells; that sounds perfect to her. "Agreed. On the count of three? One, two..."

Mortals and the mythical don't usually have a pleasant result. She hasn't been kidnapped or made a pawn in yet another game. The only games Brienne is engaging in are of her choosing.

While she's considering, she again appreciates the two pairs of hands for her to hold and lightly, lightly swing with the wind. "Three...?"
'
The corners of her mouth curl.

Well, there was that run-in with a fairy godfather...

Hand swinging? Brienne really is starting to relax! Frea's enjoying it so much she almost forgets what they were counting for. Oh yes. Racing. Hmm, that means she needs one of her hands back--but not both. Holding hands while they race into the waves means nobody gets left behind. Yes. This is ideal.

And if they have a tie, they'll just have to trade shells.

Frea whoops with joy when she splashes into the water. The cold water brushes up over her ankles before retreating. She chases it across the sand, kicking up the foam and twirling around in the spray and laughing. Always laughing.

Such a man that he is! They should cross paths again in the future. Brienne believes that he is just like that at all times: dapper, enigmatic and prone to glitter. She must tell Frea that she had promised him a feast in return for kindness.

Just a little hand-swinging, yes. Progress. Brienne lets go of one hand, anticipating another. Together? Oh. That doesn't seem like a bad change at all. Off they go across the sand. She finds herself laughing, laughing too at the first cold splash over the tops of her feet.

The last time she even saw the sea was from King's Landing. The water was not nearly so inviting.

Dapper and enigmatic, yes. Glitter, not so much. Not until the next Samhain ball, anyway. But very deserving in feasts. Frea will have to hope she's invited too.

A little progress is only going to encourage Frea to hope for more. It's a slippery slope, Brienne, from the cold peaks of moral certitude down into the valley of joy.

And then there's laughing. Be still, her heart! Frea grins up at her friend, enjoying the moment while it lasts. "You have a nice laugh."

Perhaps the sparkle in his personality and smile shall suffice until that time. As to feasts, Frea is automatically included. What manner of appointed protector would Brienne be if she wasn't a part of it? And a little support for hosting any event with no prior experience would be invaluable.

Being in the cold for so long she really has had only a vague idea of what she had been missing. What started as exclusion has ended up to be self-imposed hermitage. But the way down is so inviting.

A kick to the waves sends more water to swirl. "Oh..." Brienne hadn't realized she was laughing. She's been stern and vigilant slowly coming to be carefree as well as warmer. "Not so much as yours." She starts to step into the waves.

Schön does sparkle in his own way.

Frea is great at feasts! They'll host the best feast Westeros has ever seen. Food and flowers will be abundant, and the weather will, of course, be perfect. A lingering taste of summer in a land facing too much winter. It shall be every good thing.

The way down is strewn with flowers and ends in Frea's arms. There may be an occasional thorn, but what does that matter when there'll be kisses better?

"I like it." It's pressing, but it's the last of the pressing. A little reward for Brienne's bravery in letting herself laugh again. "When's the last time you went swimming?"

Food and flowers are usually things boasted of from places like Highgarden or Dorne. Boy will they be in for a treat! At the very least, Tarth has to offer views like no other in the Seven Kingdoms.

Oh but what are thorns truly? Life has its barbs. And Brienne has a bark rough exterior. When there will be kisses oh then any thorns should be just fine.

She still smiles. No other reproach or remark aside from a little more color. That's the standard is it not? "I can't place the day but it was before I left to pledge Tarth for King Renly. I'd say more than a year." Another kick to the water. "Too long."

A fine feast and splendid views are key ingredients in the recipe for a fairy tale. At a noble knight, a maiden fair, a dark and mysterious man... it's unlikely to be easily forgotten, this feast of theirs.

Every life has its pains, it's true, and these thorns have roses.

It's a good standard to maintain. The gentle back-and-forth will let them both ease into the changes ahead. Frea kicks some water in Brienne's general direction, intending to splash her a bit. "Then I'm doubly glad we came today. Thank you."

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