nexus_sages | (no subject)

Gwaine has settled himself on a bench to watch the swirling crowds, his amazement and joy evident by the steadily growing grin. He might have got lost in the castle's maze of corridors more than once when he first arrived but he's absolutely certain that this is not Camelot. Uther's health may be failing and Arthur not quite the uptight, pompous, hide bound little braggart of a Princeling he first thought him (he'll grudgingly admit that now) but even he would struggle to accept the multitude of strange beings and obviously magical artifacts crowding as far as the eye can see.

He tilts his face back towards the sun with contented sigh before picking up the bright paper he discarded beside him earlier and reluctantly continuing to read. It's not that he can't exactly, goading by family members determined that their poor relations bring as little shame as possible and later Merlin's patient if faintly teasing guidance mean that he's adequately literate, thankyouverymuch, it's just that there were a lot of very long and confusing words.

Eventually he reaches the end where the warning at the bottom of the page causes him some rather profound worry.

"What's a man to do to get a drink around here, then?"

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Gwaine shakes his head sheepishly, perhaps there is something in all of Arthur's hissed admonishments to mind his manners accompanied by cuffs to the back of his head after all.

"Forgive me, nothing at all in themselves but were I to return to Camelot other than I am now. Well, the accusations of sorcery would start flying and with the punishments being as harsh as they are, I and anyone else who had more than brushed past me twice in the hall would find themselves on trial and condemned to burn at the stake in the courtyard before the next sunrise."

He rambles to a stop awkwardly, one hand rubbing at the back of his neck. Suddenly, more in need of that drink than ever.

"Oh." The rambling had one good side effect, in that her expression is softening. It's not an unfamiliar fear. The desire, the need to keep one's head down and not get noticed is one she still fights. Even in this place. "Those things are usually temporary if it does happen. C'mon, I'll show you around a bit if you want."

Ver takes a half-step back then, expecting him to stand and not wanting to crowd him. "I'm Verity." Does he shake hands with women? Is it allowed? She'll offer hers and find out.

Have a relieved smile Verity, he's quite fond of how he looks. "Well, that's something at least. And thank you, it seems like there's more to learn than is written here."

Gwaine stands carefully, still not sure if the woman's apparently changeable temper indicates a non-human nature or not. He will take the offered hand though but rather than shake it he holds it an executed a small and not desperately courtly bow. "Gwaine".

He releases her hand but other things he just can't let go of, it's not meant maliciously, he's just the inquisitive type. "So, your hair is that temporary or is it typical of your ... kind?"

Vanity is a sin, and aren't knights supposed to be above such things? Not that she can blame him, he's pretty cute. And she never dislikes when people are giving her those kinds of smiles. It's so much better than the fake smiles most people wear. "You're welcome. This place is kinda huge, so yeah, there's a lot to learn. Being a decent person is typically a good start, so I think you'll be okay."

The bow gets another raised eyebrow, a little surprised and a little amused (like she's anyone worth bowing to), but she's smiling when he comes up again. "Nice to meet you."

And then the question. It's not the first time someone's wondered, and she takes it with good humor. "The color is dye and I'm human. Where I came from, it was common for people to color their hair."