nexus_sages | made waves with some friends I know

Looks exchanged here and there. Frea is so very fair. And for the demeanor of a wandering tomcat, Captain Han Solo is also an attractive man. Then there is big Brienne of Tarth with the two of them. She sighs a little.

"Doing it right will save your life." Not a question but an observation. The stars could as perilous as the sea. Shipwrecker Bay that Tarth resides in has killed lords and sailors alike.

Brienne does her part and sees that already there is sufficient help. In light of that she unhooks the leathers that keep her sword and scabbard at her belt. Oathkeeper will still be within sight and reach. Removing it makes it more comfortable to sit.

"Frea was among the first people I met here in Nexus." Sweets were involved then as well.

Frea does try to be fair. Fair is nice, it makes people happy. It's so much better than cruel, like that voice in the back of Brienne's head telling her she doesn't belong. Everyone has their reasons for feeling like tehy don't belong, but listening to them makes them come true.

Not all magic is kind.

Once everything is arranged, Frea takes off the towel wrapped around her waist and folds it up to set aside. Then she sits right in the middle, long bare legs stretched toward the fire. They'll have to arrange themselves around it. How terrible.

"All my friends are from here." She pauses to think about it before adding, "And they're all here right now, too. That's nice."

"You got it." He says with a nod. "A pilot who doesn't know what they're doing won't remain one long, one way or another."

Best that she's in the middle and they (Han and Brienne, that is) arrange themselves around her. Putting her two friends that are not quite at ease with each other yet, side by side would be a social overextension.

Han takes a spot near the May Queen. "Nice to have them all in the same place. Makes them easier to keep track of that way."

Fair in demeanor, fair in looks. Is it really any wonder at all that Frea attracts attention? Here they were together, Brienne sits cross-legged, tilted to the fire as well as Han. She doesn't fold her arms or lace her fingers but nearly reaches for Frea's hand. For some reason she finds herself hesitant when they've held hands several times today. Would she be turned away? The desire to be present and to belong has kept her from storming off alone.

Separated is a good call indeed. There is no danger. Not right now. There is stillness that isn't exactly peace. Just civility.

"I have as many friends here as I do at home." Which only means something to one person here.

What an interesting arrangement they've made around her. Frea watches her friends settle while considering her options. There is such a thing as too much attention, and at a party like this, she has no desire to be involved in an unhappy scene. Their hosts have been too generous and her friends are too dear to her.

"Yes, it's so much easier when people herd themselves together for me. Because I'm so dreadfully bossy, you know." Frea smirks at Han, not as charmingly as he can manage the look but she's been practicing. "Everyone must always be where I want them when I say."

But then, look at these two. Frea looks up at Brienne with a more tender expression, because she does understand that. She reaches over and takes Brienne's hand, pulling Brienne's arm around her so she can lean back against her guard and drape her legs over Han's lap. Cozy.

"But it's better to have good friends than many friends."

Well, this position seems to put a scoundrel right in range of her feet, doesn't it? Not that the idea of tickling her would immediately occur to him or anything. The truth of the matter is, he was going to show restraint, but she had to get all sassy on him ...

Han starts testing the May Queen's tolerance for foot tickles.

"Listen to you be all glib." Is it wrong of him to think he might be rubbing off on her? Heaven help them all if he is. "As someone who has needed to criss-cross galaxies to catch up with people, lemmie assure you, this is a convenient thing."

Edited 2016-06-10 17:46 (UTC)

Arrangement is right. For all points and purposes most consider Brienne of Tarth to be an unmovable object. They've never seen her like this. Her arm is snug around Frea who smells like the sea and the flowers in her hair look more alive than ever in the flickering firelight. Brienne relaxes even more.

"Authority is what comes with being any kind of queen," she says gently and returns the smile.

The foot tickles get her eyebrows to lift. Oh really, ser?

Whatever a galaxy is, she imagines it may be something large or tedious. A road perhaps? Territories? "You and Frea have met before, Captain?"

The unmovable object that is Brienne of Tarth has met the unstoppable force that is Frea's cuteness. That's one philosophical paradox sorted.

If only Frea could relax the way Brienne is doing. She'd been planning to, but then Han had to go and be mischief. Tickling. How ruthless. She tries to maintain her decorum, such as it is, by curling her toes and tensing her legs, lower lip firmly between her teeth to try to stifle the urge to laugh. "My authority isn't much over people."

Only a little, and only in fun ways. The tickling is not fun, and he gets a glare when he doesn't let up quickly. It doesn't last because the attempt to talk let a giggle escape, and once one gets out the rest want to go too. The trade-off is that she's going to pull her feet away and tuck them beneath herself where they're safe.

"If I had any kind of real authority over the people here, that tickling would have gotten someone in a lot of trouble."

Edited 2016-06-11 03:01 (UTC)

There are more than plenty of people who are willing to treat the spring goddess with perfect consideration. He'd have to imagine almost everybody does. Either due to the fact that they want something from her or because they feel like it's owed to her or maybe they're like-minded with her. Not Han. He hasn't curtailed himself from the moment he met her and he's not going to start now. Why should he?

If what she wants is the standard, he's the wrong man to look to. If that's what she does really want, however, she won't have to look hard to find it. As it is, he has this silly notion in his head that - while it is regrettable to have her pull away from him, on some level, it's regrettable on her end too.

With a perfect tone, practiced in front of so many deluded criminals and rich people with titles, he lays on the 'atonement'. "I beseech you one apology for every grain of sand on this beach, Queen Frea, Mistress of nature and all of life that thrives under the brilliant sun." There's something in his eyes that don't match the words, but it's not impudence ... it's something else.

Han's eyes shoot over to the fire, then up to the stars. A clear sky tonight is making them prominent. They aren't his starts, and they move far more often than he's comfortable with, but he's grown accustomed to looking at them in his time here. It makes them a little more comforting all the same.

The blue-green of an aurora is visible to the south.

"I met her if I'm not mistaken, the day she arrived here." Captain Solo murmurs. "How does the saying go? I was driven to her like a moth to a flame."

Edited 2016-06-11 12:47 (UTC)

Everyone should. That is how it's done. Rulers are where they are because of it is the will of the gods. That's what Brienne believes being raised in the Faith of the Seven. To disobey the full order of things is to evoke wrath and risk your life and limb. Frea is not anyone's version of a tyrant and has asked to be treated as an equeal--unheard of!--and a friend--even more so!! But Brienne obeys willingly, happily. This is the kind of queen she had dreamed of serving.

And so is a captain of the stars wording as he does, mocking as he does. Her scowl is fighting to come through. "Frea doesn't care to be spoken to in such a way, Lord Captain Solo." Oh. That came out before she thought more on it. Brienne clears her throat and looks down again to the little May Queen, the color in her face might not be so apparent in the firelight. Or so she hopes.

"I...know you're perfectly capable of saying so yourself."

She has no more to say. To Han. To Frea. The fire crackles. Eating up the absence of conversation like kindle.

Frea would be disappointed in the trains of thought of both her friends if she were a mind reader. If neither of them understands she wants only to be treated kindly because she's a kind person, they don't know her at all. She doesn't want or expect obedience because of her title or power, but she doesn't much like the way Han is suddenly acting, either.

What has gotten into him? Her long studying look is interrupted when Brienne speaks. Her eyes flick up to meet Brienne's and her guard gets a pat on the hand, reminder and reassurance, but Frea won't rebuke her for what just happened. Instead, she returns her gaze to Han in time to watch his performance.

"Promise you won't tickle again and I'll forgive you." But he's not getting her feet back just yet. They've both lost something tonight and it's deeply regrettable.

"We did meet my first day," she confirms a moment later. "It was a nice way to start."

If he's lost anything more than the privilege of minding her legs and feet tonight, it would be deeply regrettable. Most of the time they are good together and better than they ought to be, all things considered. Her a good influence on him as well.

His apology that seemed to offend them both despite it not coming out in spite or mockery was the result of conditioning. When you step out of line, especially around your betters, you need to smooth things over. He'd been taught that lesson by stern hands from an early age. Sometimes, he was even smooth enough in his words to put things back to right before everything got too off course, but not this time, apparently ...

Trust that it lacked the passion and recognizable sarcasm of a proper Han Solo insult. The Captain is many things, but subtle is a fairly infrequent occurrence for him.

The thief did learn something about Brienne of Tarth, though, just now. More than just that she's from a backwater place where they didn't yet possess the technology that was so wide spread in his galaxy. Just as well that she has nothing to say to Han because he's starting to think that he might not have much left to say to her either.

"Never, ever again, Frea."

Edited 2016-06-12 07:01 (UTC)

Kindly as a person, not a figure. She deserves that. And more. Much more. And while Frea is miraculous in many ways it is a good thing that she is lacking in the mind reading. Han and Brienne are not at their personal bests.

The patting motion of her hand means that not all is lost. There is mercy. Brienne lightly nods and her lips press together as though she'll say something. An apology anyway. Or another oath. Instead the arm around her tenses to pull Frea closer.

Brienne is born and raised in the dark-like ages that they cringe about. And while she has the body of some kind of giant warrior, she has the heart of a maiden.

"That sounds like a fair way to make amends," she comments lightly.

Every figurehead, every leader, every plaster saint on a plinth, was a person once upon a time. She's not quite ready to fade into legends. Or memories, though she'd been hoping tonight would be one worth remembering. Perhaps it's not unsalvageable.

"Thank you, Han." He can have a little smile now. It's not as big and bright as usual, but it's not nothing. All hope is not lost. She might even let him come to her this time, if he's feeling daring.

That said, she'll be cozying into the hold Brienne's got on her for now. They both know how quickly she gets cold at night, and with the breeze coming over the water, is it any surprise she's eager for warmth and a windbreak? A drink would be nice, too. But that requires getting up. Hmm.

She wants something brought to her, does she? How fortunate then that Han, seeing Frea sink deeper into Brienne's hold and knowing that he's in the dog house, is ready to go for the walk that will fetch them something. Although since he's not a mind reader, he doesn't know that she's thirsty. His intent was to go questing for s'mores ingredients ...

"So, those s'more things you were talking about before, Frea ..." He begins. "I think I'll nominate myself to get up and get the components for that, unless either of you ladies has an objection."

Besides, he wanted to find Barton at some point anyway. Might as well be now. He can tell him what the hell makes up a s'more too.

Being as good as legends and stories has always been a notion to Brienne. She is working to shake it. What helps is to be close to Frea. You can't hold a saint or a myth. Chances are their laughs and smiles would never feel how they do here and now. Cozy and warm here. And Brienne is usually very warm with some to spare.

"I hold no objection. ...I thought the s'mores were unfamiliar to you?" What is the scoundrel up to.

"That'd be nice, thank you. I think everything's in the blue cartons. Remember to get sticks to toast the marshmallows on." This smile is more like the ones he's used to getting. Not much of a dog house, with her, is it? She's determined to be in a good mood as much as possible, which means she's quick to forgive the little things. Frea reaches over to brush a hand down his arm, to further reassure him everything's okay. "Would you bring me some lemonade, too, please?"

Brienne is so delightfully warm and cozy. The way she tries to live up to storybook notions is charming to Frea. She does such a fine job of it. But being the sort of person Brienne thinks she has to be isn't a very fun life, is it?

"They are." Han confirms to the knights question. "But I can walk up to some of the people I know here, strike up a brief conversation and sneak in an 'oh by the way, the girls were talking about s'mores, what are they and where do grab the stuff from'?"

Mingling Brienne. You don't have to be as sly as Han to be able to pull something like this off. Especially when the hosts have basically laid everything out for people and have been more or less encouraging a 'help yourself' philosophy.

Even the guy he hadn't met (... Matt? The one with vision problems ...) before seemed amiable enough, though it hasn't dawned on the Captain that he was the host. He blames Verity for this, actually.

At Frea's touch, Han seems to do nothing for about two beats. It's difficult to tell if it's a delayed reaction or if short hesitation, but he ultimately does look up and smile at her. And it's a smile with all the usual Solo charm that he bestows upon her. "Lemonade, blue crates and don't forget the sticks."

Have no fear, ladies, he's got this. Han stands, glances around, and then goes off to accomplish his task.

Fetching not only the ingredients but sticks to cook their s'mores is the most gentlemanly thing that Han has done yet. His methods make sense. It seems he's more gifted in natural social graces than she is even with courtly upbringing. Sly or not, her approach is usually direct. "I suppose that is so." Brienne mentally wishes him luck all the same. Timeliness will determine the success of his plan. (Spoiler: probably won't take long.)

Watching him retreat from the firelight she sighs and settles a little closer to Frea. She believes she is doing what should be done. It feels right to conduct herself as a considerate protector and ...friend. Brienne preens this identity in a way a fair maiden would her hair or self.

"You make friends so easily," is her soft observation. "Do you like him?"

"Thank you," she calls after. Frea gives him a smile to match his, and will enjoy watching him go. It's just. It's a nice view, okay? And she's neither dead nor chaste, as he well knows.

She doesn't look away until Brienne shifts, which causes her to look up at her friend. Brienne gets that smile now and a nod. "I'm fortunate to make friends," she agrees, "and such good ones." Now she'll shift, settling easily into Brienne's hold.

"I do," she admits with a touch of blushing. "He's good company, and he listens to me."

Han's parents didn't leave him with much, but they did pass along some good genes. Broad shoulders. Lean waist. The kind of face that will let him get away with all manner of stupid things he'll say to people. He could have faired far worse in the genetic lotto.

If they care to look, they'll see him mingling. He doesn't look nervous or seem to be having a hard time with the act of it. Though, he is trying to chat for a reasonably polite amount of time before he gets to what he wants, so, the ladies might be on their own for a couple of minutes.

One would think she'd feel a little more at ease now that the interloper is at a distance. Brienne finds that she is feeling close to the same. Still so very relaxed with Frea and still uncertain of what is lingering in the air. The Captain is undeniably handsome.

"You say things that are worth listening to Frea." The color is so very lovely in her cheeks, like flowers blooming below the skin. Brienne's eyes look from her to the fire.

"Is he trustworthy? I do not know him well enough to leave you alone with him unless you wish me to."

Poor Brienne. It's called 'lust'. It can be quite pleasant. She may want to give it a try sometime.

"But that doesn't mean people will always listen." It's a sad thing, but a true one, and one she can't wish away or ignore. The color continues to grow in her cheeks while it's being observed.

"I trust him." It's not quite the same thing. She knows that, and she knows Brienne knows that. "He's always trusted me, and I should return the favor. And I think he's a better man than you want to give him credit for."

Frea pulls away then, turning so she can look up at Brienne properly. "What's wrong, dearest?"

What's going on between the two ladies seems so much more significant than trying to keep an eye on a shifty space pirate. If he was trying to pull of fast one on anybody, now would be the time. He isn't. At any rate, he seems to have changed locations, but hasn't yet returned.

And for what it's worth, were he there to catch the fond things that Frea was saying about him, he'd be inwardly pleased and outwardly trying to downplay the compliments.

Edited 2016-06-16 04:35 (UTC)

It's called many things. And much of it emotions she has neglected herself to recognize in herself. There is far much more work to be done for Brienne of Tarth.

"I listen," she softly asserts. Though it seems that is not what was required or asked for. And so often we so wish to be heard from more than one person.

"You fancy him?" Why it is a question, she isn't sure. Brienne already believes it. Feeling Frea pull back causes an unexpected, heavy weight drop onto her shoulders. Frea's movements and words make her look up from the fire into her face.

Her tongue feels thick and words too clumsy. She has never been eloquent or soft spoken. Brienne reaches for Frea's hands. "I...do not wish to ever do a thing to deny you happiness or harm you. I--" she clenches her hands in frustration at herself. "That is to say that I do not want to give reasons for you to have to choose or feel you must choose my company or Lord Captain Solo's." Is it really a choice at all? She doesn't seem to think so.

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