nexus_sages | Samhain Ball Redux - Second Star to the Right

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Samhain Ball Redux - Second Star to the Right

Something flits through the skies of the Nexus, bobbing and swooping only to climb again, an ecstatic aerial dance. At last, mirth of the moment giving way to some other whim, the flying figure drifts groundward, turning and drifting like a falling leaf until his feet, clad in pointed-toed green suede moccasins alight. Forest green tights hug lean legs all the way up to a bright green tunic, belted with rich brown leather and a bright brass buckle. On his left hip hang a set of pan pipes; on his right, a black-handled knife. An impish grin curls his lips, his eyes sparkle with the promise of mischief, and a pert green cap sits atop his head, crowned by a lone red feather. Could this be the black-suited GQ cover model who makes himself ubiquitous in the better-traveled spaces of the Nexus? Could it be Schön?

It is. "People of the Nexus, friends, in the world from which I hail we stand on the cusp of a special day, a harvest-fest when the walls between worlds grow thin, when masks and costumes are worn to frighten away wicked spirits--or to invite them in on more congenial terms. Today we bid Summer adieu, and raise fire and song to meet the long night! Join me, for an evening to last a lifetime, and a farewell to a season well-loved." His hand rises, pointing to where two bright beacons blaze in the churn of the Nexus' heavens. "Second star to the right, and we'll keep on 'til morning!" Crowing with laughter, he soars for that distant point like an arrow, leaving a trail of sparkling, glittering motes of light for anyone interested to follow.

Perched on the border between the parklands and the residential district, the night sky is like a pillow of iridescent black velvet, on which have been scattered an embarrassment of diamonds. Like an enormous pumpkin, a harvest moon presides over the shimmering vista, orange and plump. The air is cool and crisp, punctuated by the crackling hiss of dry leaves in motion every time a breeze picks up.

At the center of it all sits a stately house of Gothic style, ivy-clad and waiting. A square tower stands vigil over the entryway, tall windows overlooking the flagstone drive looping around a fountain full of water as blue and bright as a tropical sea. In the fountain stands an island, and if one peers closely enough, one might imagine they see figures moving about--on the deck of the tiny ship anchored in a cove, or swimming and splashing in a lagoon, or even creeping through the wooded interior. Of the house, the windows of the wings seem dark, perhaps waiting, but the line of the roof is limned with some glow from beyond, and the faint throb of distant music promises that the evening holds more than surfaces. The door stands open, a silent invitation to every brave soul who passes by.

((Happy Halloween! Enjoy the festivities, threadhopping is encouraged, tag back whenever you have time, and don't worry about missing out--we'll still be here when you get back.))
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If everyone had faith like Brienne, the worlds would be better places. It's a faith that will be tested, but there's a fair chance of rewards.

"Yes. Together." Frea reaches up to seal the pact with a kiss dropped delicately on the tip of Brienne's nose. "You've spent a whole summer taking care of me. Next summer, I'll help you more with your duties."

Brienne could probably carry her through the whole winter, if either of them were so inclined. She wouldn't enjoy it. "You've been happy?" What an odd question. "I know the summers here are short compared to what you're used to."

Once Brienne has come to trust someone, it is not easily shaken or severed. She swore herself to Lady Stark's service, enough to make unlikely alliances. And Frea has gone above and beyond what anyone has ever done for her, it is a deeper bond forged from the same mythical steel as Oathkeeper.

The kiss makes her expression bloom in its own way to a wide, smile. Their talk was always joking. Still, an affirmation that they should not be enemies is very important to hear. "There is much time before than. Whatever shall we do?"

Step. Sway. This way. That way. The question is an odd one. She sees no need to be thrown so and answers readily. "Oh yes, I have been. And I am." More happy than she has been at most parties. "I'm not looking forward to a winter but it shall be short too... and no where near as savage."

Frea trusts easily and gives generously, but she's not a fool. The people she lets truly close to her are few and far between. These roots run deep.

Brienne smile is a thing of beauty, and something Frea prefers to savor. Her enjoyment is dampened by the question, and the realizations of everything she has yet to say...

"Only six months." She'll skip over the question, for now, to try and edge into the subject gently. "I'm told it isn't all snow the whole time. Will you stay here for the season, or will you be going home to attend your duties there?"

And all of this started with a cookie. Who would have believed? Not Brienne. Would she be a fool for being so trusting from the start? Perhaps a little. They grow wiser together through trial and error. Closer together still.

"Six months and no longer?" Not decades or even a year! Everyone keep saying it. She is having hard time internalizing it. "I've...not given it too much thought to leave." For a moment she worries her bottom lip between her teeth thoughtfully. "If I go I shall surely be in a long, long winter." And will she be able to find her way back so easily? There is always a question of that.

Worse than starting with a cookie, it started with mischief. And yet, somehow, here they are. Mischief managed, trials faced, and still friends through it all.

"No longer," she assures her friend with a quiet laugh. "I have to have my own turn." Watching Brienne worry at her lip is almost adorable enough to make it worth worrying her. Almost. "Would it be so long if you came back?"

Cookies taste better than mischief. Both are common place things, seemingly small and harmless. More blame cookies for ill than actual mischief. Looking back on the event those months ago brings only smiles to Brienne. The strong bond they made from that day forward is the best outcome.

Own turn? Her pale eyebrows lift at attention. That other question does pull her to answer. "I think so. They say we return from whence we came moment to moment... at least for some. Ah, if I could just... go to spring." It always feels like a warm, pleasant season with Frea.

Brienne lightly shakes her head and takes them in another turn. "Would you--will you stay here?"

Cookies may be sweeter in the moment, but can have longer-lasting consequences. Portion control is the key to satiating appetites for both. That, and the ability to stop before doing harm.

Frea tries to keep things warm and pleasant for Brienne. Spring can have its chilly rains and windy nights, but they don't seem so unweatherable when they're together. "Always living in spring would be a delight. But you'd miss so much, with your world's long winters." It's not a subject she wants to dwell on for a variety of reasons.

The question was expected, almost coaxed out, but it still hurts. Her eyebrows draw together and she looks down while she draws a deep breath. "I have to go. It's not my season anymore, and I must make way until it's spring again."

The one moment has come to be many sweet moments that sugary confection can't rightly compare to. Is there a requirement for portion control? It hasn't even crossed Brienne's mind at all. Perhaps being that she has a healthy appetite for affection that has been so lacking in her life thus far.

It has been a beautiful season. Even with the wind and the rain, no true chill. The touch of another's hand and someone to stroll or sit with. But truly, Frea is not just any person. "I have never had the choice before," she softly admits.

Their dancing motion stops and for a second it is like the grace is gone from her footing. Not enough to stumble long or drop away. Brienne lightly clears her throat as her eyes drop. "...Yes. Yes I see. You do have your duties. And I've mine..." She curtly nods once and then again. Seasons have their time, do they not>

"Oh Frea," her arms wrap around the younger maiden and she must stoop a little as she holds her close.

Portion control is only required after the tummyaches start. But there's no such thing as too much sweetness when not talking about edible sweets. If Brienne has been starved for affection, it's not surprising she's eager to feast now.

Every beauty fades. Frea leans into Brienne's hold with a sigh and a shiver. She's so cold. "It'll be okay. I promise. It's not forever, just for a little while. We'll see each other again." Her arms wrap around Brienne, holding tight to her brave knight. "It'll be okay."

Feasting wherever and whenever. It's what is wise to do when harsh weather is to come and indulgence is unwise.

Oh if she were only more steadfast and less flustered! Brienne takes in little sips of air. Already her eyes have begun to water. Everything has it's time. Frea just said just for a little while. Must she bawl like a babe? She sniffs and remembers not to rub at her face because of the powders and items they prettied each other with. "I won't forget you!"

To feast and fatten before the winter is a primal survival tactic. Nothing to be ashamed of there, either. If only they could huddle together and hibernate.

Oh, dear. Frea's grown so used to Brienne being the strong and stoic one. Her own eyes are glassy with tears, but she sniffles and blinks them back so she can support her dear friend. "I know. I won't forget you, either. Come on." If Brienne allows, she'll find herself steered off the dance floor and into a quiet corner of another room where they can talk and be emotional without many witnesses.

This is proven time and again one must prepare for winter. It's not just the words of House Stark, and no where close to prophetic. Everything has it's time. In joy, in spring time, it seems that no cold shall ever come down.

It has been quite some time that she was upset to tears. Nexus has given her so many smiles and laughs. While she is still quiet and reserved compared to Frea, it's never been this. Sniffling again she feels like a great blubbering thing and is easily guided away now. Small inhales keep her from making much of a sound.

Dear me, speaking would be appropriate right now. But what to say? Gods where is her tongue? Brienne squeezes Frea's hand. "I don't--I don't mean to make a scene."

Remembering and preparing for winter in the midst of spring isn't the most possible fun in the moment, but that leaves room to remember and prepare for spring in the midst of winter. Balance.

"Shh. You aren't." Frea nudges Brienne into a sofa and curls up against her side. Her head on Brienne's shoulder and dabbing away the tears with her fingertips. "Shh. All will be well. All will be well. All manner of thing shall be well."

Don't look at her too closely. There's a glistering of tears in her lashes, too.

Winter was a scary story at night. The Long Summer was thought to continue on and on, the Seven Gods of Westeros were supposed to be kind in the end. Ah, Brienne remembers herself though. She isn't in the familiar kingdoms. All the lessons learned don't always apply here. Another place to find balance, to learn more to prepare herself for whatever comes next, battle or celebration.

Such a well placed sofa that it is, and sturdy and large to hold them both. Her eyes screw shut to try and put up a dam for these tears. In the end, no matter the size, she is still a tender-hearted maiden.

"W-when must you go?" How much more time do they have together? Brienne's arms go around the other woman. She's welcome to lay and rest wherever.

If Brienne seeks all her kindnesses in the end, then she shouldn't seek it yet. This is not the end.

Frea shifts in Brienne's arms so they can settle together comfortably. "Soon. Not yet. Not yet." This is reinforced with the punctuation of a kiss on the tip of Brienne's nose. "And I'll be back soon. You'll have such stories to tell me when I'm back, hmm?"

Because of course Brienne will be there... won't she?

Kindness at all, really. That was a hope of hers. Now her eyes have been opened. There is kindness like there are blades of grass or sunshine. Once you see them in the world it's easier to pick them out and appreciate each.

Together and close like they are any other day, any other place. Why not here? Why not among friends? Brienne's nose scrunches at the kiss. Despite herself, despite the sorrow in her heart she laughs at the sweetness of it. "Oh yes. I shall. I'll wait for you," in truest Brienne of Tarth fashion, making an oath. One that she means. Her clutch at Frea is still present. They have time still.

The world is infinitely full of kindness for a kind soul like Brienne. Maybe not every world, but the one where she belongs. And it must be where she belongs, because it's full of kindness for her. Doesn't that work out splendidly?

There's no reason for this place and time to be any different than the other evenings they've spent together. Well. There will be some allowances for the fact they're in public... "No. Don't wait," she insists, quite firmly. "Live. Live, and do things, and be wonderful. And then come back."

Brienne knew that she had no hope of ever fitting in even if she tried. She had never fathomed that she was not meant for the world literally. Here there is minimal effort to be appreciated as a person, as a woman, no matter what size or status. Frea helped her see that this world was home. Strange as it is.

She sniffs again and laughs. It makes her bow her head to Frea to press forehead to forehead. "Yes...yes. We'll be here again, and-and we'll still dance." And sing and do other things. Her cheeks heat and Brienne presses her own kiss to Frea's lips.

The truth is often stranger than fiction. This place may be strange, but it's allowed them to be more true to themselves and each other. And that honesty helps make it home. (The reasoning might be circular, but circles are fun!)

Frea tilts her chin up into the kiss, relieved that Brienne's seeing past the sorrow a bit and wanting to encourage that. "Mm, yes. Dance and sing and tell each other new stories. It'll be wonderful."

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Samhain Ball Redux - Second Star to the Right

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