faderift | [OPEN] Long Was His Silence

WHO: Aleron Darton and YOU
WHAT: Pre-Orlais Catchall for July
WHEN: Start of Solace up until it's time to head out.
WHERE: Skyhold, various
NOTES: If any of these don't work, feel free to wildcard or PM me for a starter. Prose or Brackets a-ok, I'll tag to preference.

Aleron is nothing if not a creature of habit. There are reasons his twin has heckled him all their lives about how dull he is; he's not loud, excitable, or given to doing things which are not part of his daily routine.

Morning and evening, he may be found in the Chapel attending to his devotions. At least an hour upon rising, and before sleep, is spent in prayer. Following his attention to matters of the spirit, he then attends to honing of physical training. Where the training ring has been set up in the Courtyard, he works through sword and footwork forms, old and sometimes new. Just prior to lunch, he visits the Stables to see how Valiente fares. Taking the horse out for a ride isn't all that out of the ordinary. However, almost every outing takes him the direction of the Warden's Camp. That destination in itself is a deviation from his routine, but a sharp eye might notice that he never fails to travel there without either a book, a basket lunch, or a handful of wildflowers.

Of an afternoon, he's easily found in the Library, engrossed in research of some variety or another, or enjoying casual reading of wholesome volumes such as The Sermons of Divine Hortensia III. Sometimes he can be observed attending to his correspondence, though there too is an oddity. For a change, each letter received is read, though it can be discerned from his facial expression that he's dreading some of them. Usually those sealed with a ram's head on green. Evenings before vespers, he sits quietly in the Herald's Rest. He never indulges in more than a single ale and listens with quiet appreciation to the music and conversation around him. The Seeker still hasn't quite worked up to initiating social interactions, though he welcomes others who opt to join him and break up his solitude.

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Every little detail that Aleron can drink in of their visits are a pleasure. Her warm smiles, bright eyes, how lovely she looks each time she tucks a flower in her hair, the brief moment where he knows her fingers brushed his hand taking the flowers. He's aware of all of them, storing them up like little treasures to be admired later again and again.

He's very interested in these fruit tarts and takes the bundle from her with a bob of his head. Certainly it's a lot of baked goods, but he's an active fellow and he won't have the slightest problem polishing them off. If he's feeling generous, he might consider sharing with Malcolm and Cassandra. But probably not. If there is any problem he sees in this, it's that she's gone to so much trouble on his account. "Not at all, I will enjoy each and every one. Anything you've had a hand in making is the kind I like best."

After giving the bundle another look and an appreciative sniff, he has something of an idea. "Are you free to go for a ride? I've had a beautiful woman baking for me and I thought we could make a picnic of it." He'd meant to invite her out for the ride by the river, and packed a light lunch in his saddlebags for the trip back in the afternoon. Turning it into a picnic provides him an opportunity to extend his time with her today. Which he's more than eager to do.

She tips her head to the side, flushing at the compliment of her baking. She tucked her bouquet in one hand, looking down at the ground, smiling with embarrassed pleasure. "Well, then I'll have to make sure I bake each and every one of them again."

No matter the cost, for that kind of look, and that kind of compliment. Then her entire expression lights up at his idea, "Oh, could we?" Then she flushed again. "Beautiful, oh, Maker ... "

She tucked her hair behind her ear, giving him a shy but pleased smile, "I would love to go on a ride with you. Just about anywhere, honestly." She moved forward to take his other hand, giving it a squeeze.

"I was hoping you'd say yes." That smile of hers... Aleron catches himself staring at her with the same goofy smile that he started out with on seeing her. It grows at the idea of going for a ride however. That and her holding on to his hand roots him in place all the more. He could well stand there all day taking pleasure in nothing more than the warmth of her touch. Which of course will get them no where. He's got the vague inkling he looks foolish, which makes him turn red at the collar again.

Once he fully realizes he's not moved an inch, Aleron clears his throat and mumbles, "Pardon me, just one moment."

He places the tarts into the saddlebags with such care one would think he were handling priceless porcelain dishes. Once he's satisfied they will not get squished in any way, he swings back into the saddle and holds out a hand to help hoist Bethany up behind him.

It hasn't quite occurred to him that he's about to be treated to her needing to hold on to him for the duration of the ride. The man does not have enough guile to have planned that.

"I was hoping you would ask." She replies lightly, although for all she is smiling, her breath catches at that smile. He only smiles at her like that, with that flush right up to his ears. To think she could get a man like Aleron Darton to look at her this way - and to know he did the same to her.

She steps back, to let him settle things, folding her hands around her bouquet. Maker, was this how it was supposed to feel like? This mixture of shy awkwardness and pure bliss. She sighs as he slips onto his horse, easy as you please, before she turns to Gamlen. "Right, back on home with you. I shall bring you treats later."

Gamlen whines, but trots on back towards the camp, and she shakes her head. Honestly, the pitiful look is half of why she named him after her uncle ...

Turning back around, she dimples up at him before taking his hand and pullling herself upwards, swinging her leg over the horse easily. She tucks her flowers into her sash, and then wraps both arms around his waist. He might not have enough guile -- but Bethany was going to enjoy squeezing him like this.

"All right, I'm settled."

[OPEN] Long Was His Silence

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