faderift | watch me like a dark cloud (closed)

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watch me like a dark cloud (closed)

WHO: Sidony + Jester
WHAT: Reading a romance nove
WHEN: Early Wintermarch
WHERE: Jester's quarters
NOTES: Tusk Love.

Honestly, Sidony does not know what she ought to expect from this arrangement.

In her arms is a rather lovely basket, covered with the appropriate linens to keep the cakes and doughnuts (and the strangeness she had felt when she had asked the baker for those might well linger), and her face has a set, sure expression colouring it as she makes her way through Kirkwall, trying to act as though this is all natural and normal. Growing up with so few friends meant that Sidony is still not sure how best to act around strangers, but she is doing what she can; Jester had seemed nice enough, and friendly.

And... Charming. She tries not to think too long about that.

She's dressed appropriately, she thinks, but she imagines her appearance won't have much to do with anything - she brings fresh pastries and that seems to be half of the reason why she's here. Doughnuts and little cakes with cherries, somehow dug up with charm and wit in the midst of a war. A romance novel, where she is going to read aloud the part of a woman and imagine what it might be like to love her, from the other side-

Stepping up to the door in the Templar's tower, she breathes out sharply before she lifts her hand and knocks.

It's not worth thinking too hard about, surely. It's just a little amusement as they recover from war.

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She's well aware of her own charms, but that doesn't make it any less pleasing to see that she's clearly not forgotten everything her mother had taught her when she was younger. She can remember being very young and unsure of herself, growing into the length of her arms and legs, and not being sure what she might end up being. There had been a part of Sidony that had hoped, vaguely, that she might end up somewhat unattractive: at least then she might have been able to be dismissed as a surgeon without mother pinning hopes on her. Alas. She is beautiful.

There's no denying the way that her eyes flick, up and over Jester, as the other woman leans forward, however. There's an edge of something soft about her, something that she seems a little nervous or shy about, a certain contrast to her very real nature of pride and confidence, peacocking before the other woman. She looks handsome enough in her dress, but to have someone focussed entirely on her words... There are few people in Thedas she could say cared about what she had to speak of rather than what she was wearing against her skin, or the skin itself.

"I had a number of dresses, yes, but I had to leave most of them in Nevarra. I simply couldn't carry my wardrobe across the country, even if I did have my handmaiden with me. I had to bring all my books, after all." She had assumed that the Inquisition might have a fair number of them, being as large and powerful as it is, but she didn't want to take the risk. She would rather have books than frocks, especially if she was going to be working in the infirmary for most of her time.

Head tilted, Sidony waits until there's a picture in front of her before she really considers who Caleb might be. There's a rush of something - Jester speaks fondly about him and she doesn't quite like that thought - before her eyes are set on the picture and she frowns, considering. Ratty and red haired doesn't seem too appealing to her and her nose wrinkles, just a little as she looks at him. Hm. The rest, though...

"Nott?" An eyebrow. That seems odd enough, but... Sidony listens to the rest of the story, thoughtful and considerate, before she nods her head. "It seems very strange to me that someone might not want to take a bath, but I rather like having one as often as possible. Very little feels as good as warm water and some lovely scented soap." Her eyes flick back to Jester's with a soft smile.

Her question makes Sidony frown, however, ignoring the comedy of the attempt at Caleb's accent. One of her own friends? It's enough to make Sidony pause and consider who she might be close enough to - what kind of person would she even consider a friend in this place? Very few names come to mind and she hesitates, hands flat on her lap before she begins to speak.

"There is someone. I made a friend here, in the Inquisition. He helped me find some... Things that I needed and has been quite the support since I arrived." Now, her smile softens. "He's a terrible rogue, but he's a very good friend. If I was at all interested in his type," rogues, of course, that's what she means, "then I'm sure we'd be an awful pair together. But I'm not, so he remains a very good and dear friend to me. One of the most loyal in the world, in his own way." A hum. "Would you tell me something about your mother?"

Of course Sidony had a maidservant. That doesn't surprise Jester at all. She smiles a little as she thinks of Nadine, her quick fingers doing a braid for the Ruby of the Sea. Sidony's maidservant must have braided her hair, too. It would look so beautiful in a braid. Perhaps she will let Jester try it on her, later. She'll have to ask.

And of course Sidony likes nice baths, and nice soaps. She totally looks like she does. Satisfied, Jester leans back a little and picks up her doughnut again. Sidony has probably heard about the baths here, but just in case, Jester makes a mental note to tell her, later. Maybe they can go together. Maybe they can bring Sidony's other friend.

A mischievous little smile curls at her lips, and she takes a big bite of doughnut to help hide it. "Your type? Oooh, Sidony... That is going to be my next question. I am so glad you have a good friend, though," veering promptly back into sincerity. "They are the best, aren't they? And I hope that we can become good friends, too, so that you can tell people that I am very good and loyal and fun to be with. A very good friend. What's your friends name? You have to tell me that first, before I tell you about my mother. But--"

She leans in again, conspiratorial this time. "It will be totally worth it. Because my mom is the best."

There's no hiding that Sidony had grown up in some measure of luxury; the way she speaks, the way she dresses, how she handles herself and others - it's all a clear sign of her nobility and her status, as minimal as it might seem in Nevarra itself. She doesn't bother attempting to hide it, not when she has enough decorum and know-how to be able to use it to her advantage, to place herself in positions where she might get what she wants and not have to worry too much about the depths of the consequences.

The rather desperate urge to talk more about her dresses and less about her own tastes is somewhat overcoming, and Sidony thinks she must look something akin to a gaping fish as she glances at Jester, unsure of what to say. If Byerly is not her type - charming, well spoken, smart, cunning - then what is? How can she sit before this woman, who has her flustered and blushing and nervous, and admit things she doesn't want to admit to herself?

Lie, of course.

"I think you must tell me about your mother before I tell you anything else," she says, coy as she picks at her pastry. "But since you are proving to be such a lovely friend I will allow the rules to slide, this once. His name is Byerly." The fond smile on her face is more than enough to show just how much she enjoys being Byerly's friend, even if she might never admit precisely why the two of them had found one another.

Leaning in as well, she hums.

"Tell me about your mother, who is the best, before I answer your other question, madame."

Okay: so there is totally, totally a secret here.

Jester might have been raised in a room and not had a lot of friends, but she loves the friends that she does have, and she has learned all about how to read people from her mom, and, armed with those two weapons, she can cut through bullshit with her truth. She knows what she is talking about. And her perception is pretty good.

But she doesn't call Sidony out or anything. Instead, she claps her hands over her mouth and makes a happy little squeal--oooh!--and that's totally good enough for now. She will learn the rest later, if the secret is about Sidony's friend Byerly, or someone else.

"Okay, okay--" She drops her hands, ready to talk. "Okay. My mom is the Ruby of the Sea. She is the most beautiful courtesan in all of Nicodranas--probably all of the Menagerie Coast, really. And she has a beautiful singing voice, and she performs almost every night, and people come from all over just to listen to her, and sometimes they pay her money so that she will sleep with them, because she is just that great of a lay. Annnnd, she is pretty tall, but not too tall, it is just like, when you look at her, you think she is tall. And she is so pretty. Like, woah. I can't even tell you about how pretty she is, man." She clasps her hands under her chin, with a happy sigh. "So pretty. I wish you could meet her. She would really really like you, I think."

The problem is, of course, that this is not something Sidony has ever had to lie about before. No one had ever asked her, truly, what her tastes were until she had spoken with Byerly and Anders, and now she feels out of her depth and a little uncertain of herself. She wants, rather desperately, to find a means of backing out of the conversation, but... She had set this up herself, hadn't she. She's the one who had brought it up in the first place, and she decides the best thing to do is simply to blame Byerly.

Leaning back, accepting her fate, she can at least allow herself to take the time to enjoy Jester speaking about her mother, as glad as she is to hear it. Her own relationship with her parents is a little messy and unsure so any other side of a story is something she is more than happy to welcome, especially when it is someone as handsome as Jester telling the tale.

If she's surprised to hear that the Ruby of the Sea is a courtesan she says nothing of it, simply nodding her head with a small smile.

"She sounds like a wonderful mother," she admits, once Jester is done. "And very talented as well. I would like to meet her one day, I think, if it was ever possible." Not because she has any interest in how great of a lay this Ruby might be, but because the rest of her sounds rather charming as well if she is being quite honest. "If she is half as beautiful as you are I would be quite lucky indeed." A play, a coy one, before - well.

Now comes the dreaded admission and Sidony sighs.

"I did promise you the answer to your question, so..." She takes a moment, tapping her chin as if deep in thought. "My type must be... Someone with a touch of wit, with enough of a mind to be able to have a discussion, handsome, a little daring... And funny, I think. I would like someone who is quite funny." Reaching out, she takes Jester's hand. "And now you must tell me your type."

"She is the best," Jester agrees, fervently. Talking about her mom does make her a little sad. Not that much sadder than she was when she was out on the road and far away from her. The part that sucks the most here is that she can't cast Sending, or even write her mom a letter. Like how much would she love to tell her mom about Sidony? A lot, a lot. Dear Mom, I made the prettiest friend, and she is very sweet and brought me doughnuts, just for me, because she heard that I liked them...

And she gives good compliments. Jester would have to say that, too. For now she just giggles, and puts her hands over her cheeks.

"Sidony! You are too sweet, you are making me blush... my face is all hot! Ahh--" Quickly, she starts fanning her face. It doesn't prevent her from taking stock of Sidony's list. It would be better if she could write that list down, so she could look at it later. She'll just have to remember it. "You are so sweet that you deserve to find someone who is all of those things on your list. It is a good list. Especially handsome, and funny--funny people are the best, right? Um, my list..." Her face-fanning turns somehow pensive. "I would say pretty much the same as you. I think. Um, maybe brave, too? Heroic. Like someone out of a story. But that is almost like daring, isn't it? They are pre-tty much the same..."

Picturing her own mother, Sidony pauses, thoughtful. The last time she had seen the other woman was the night before she had slipped away from Nevarra City and fled to the Inquisition, a handful of books and clothes in hand. Stoney faced, cool, aloof, a dangerous woman - Portia Venaras is someone that Sidony knows she could never win agains, in stubbornness or selfishness, no matter how hard she might try. Her mother is a force of nature, someone that she was quashed by even as she stood up to her, foot stomped and irritated.

Thinking of her mother upsets her, more than she would ever be able to admit in a silly game of question, so she shoves the thoughts from her mind. It wouldn't be fair to make someone she had just met listen to all that nonsense.

"I used to be told that blushing is quite fetching on a woman. It can be quite attractive." Pinch your cheeks, a little rouge here, something to make them think you soft and shy - Her nose wrinkles, before a sharp, imagined tap to the back of her neck makes her sit up a little again, proper posture. "Heroism and daring can be the same, I suppose. Does one need to be daring to be heroic? I admit to not reading enough romance novels to know whether or not heroism is a truly attractive trait, but..."

She hums, smiling.

"Perhaps that's something else you can teach me, Jester, after your next question."

Fetching, attractive--Jester giggles, and puts her hands over her warm cheeks to hide the worst of her blushing. "Ahh, maybe," she concedes, coyly, "but you are still so so so so sweet."

In case that was up for debate. A serious consideration of heroism does mean uncovering her cheeks, especially as Jester is the voice of expertise here. She switches around so she can tap her fingers against her chin instead.

"I thi-ink... that you do not need daring to be heroic. Because people can be heroic in little small ways, you know? Li-ike, a grocer could be heroic for sticking his foot out and tripping a thief who stole a woman's ring! But maybe the thief is also sort of heroic, because she stole the ring so she could sell it, and buy food and books for her and her friend. She needed it. Ahh, it is all so complicated! But-- oh, shit! The question game--ahh, I am getting all lost, Sidony--umm, um um um--"

Jester's brow furrows, and she taps her fingers harder against her chin as she thinks, before, all at once: oh. She snaps her fingers.

"Who was your first crush?"

The hands are still there, which is something that makes Sidony a touch mournful - because she wasn't lying. There's something very attractive about a blushing woman, even if it's not something she wants to think on for very long. It would be far easier for her not to think about it, truthfully, and she forces herself to relax, to shake her head and wave her hand as if it doesn't mean anything at all.

"I am simply being truthful. I see no reason to lie to you." About most things, at least, but who would expect a pair of strangers to be completely honest with one another? The game is still just that - it is a game, at heart.

Leaning back, Sidony allows herself to listen a moment, to take in what Jester says. Heroism is not so simple a thing, she's aware of that; she had never thought much of it because she had already decided that she would never manage any kind of mustering of heroism herself. Daring, perhaps, with a touch of courage, but she was hardly what anyone might call heroic. Myr had called her a marvel, but even that feels like something of a stretch for a woman who longs to be arms deep in corpses and write journals on what she finds.

"Perhaps there are all kinds of heroism I had not even thought of. You're giving me a great deal to think about." Her smile is soft, at least until the snap of fingers and then she's a touch flushed, turning her head to one side. Ah, cutting to the point again. She taps her fingers on her leg, pausing. "I can't say I've had a particular number of crushes, such that I can barely remember who the first might be." She's never had much in the way of strong feelings for anyone until -

she hums, cheeks redder.

"I did meet someone once. We shared a few moments during a game and it was quite the experience. I think that would be a suitable person to give the title of first 'crush'. Their name was Max." Which could be a man, thankfully.

"Ooooooh."

Jester leans in even more, both to share in this secret and to get a closer look at Sidony's face. She's dropped her hands from her face, revealing the last of her blush. Sidony has taken up the role of prime blusher anyways, now that the attention is on her. She looks very pretty and sweet. With her hands free, Jester now grabs for Sidony's hands, to link them together in this moment. Her eyes are sparkling with glee, with the romance of it all.

"Max. That is a very very good name, especially for a crush. Okay, okay, but what was the game? Ah--" She squeezes Sidony's hands. "This is so exciting-- do you think that you will see Max again? Someday?"

Immediately, Sidony moves back and away, the flush on her cheeks almost a little overwhelming now. She doesn't want to talk about Max; she has no desire to discuss her rather awkward encounter with anyone - Byerly included. If she can't talk in detail about it with him why might she have any kind of inspiration to talk about it with Jester, who despite being open and kind might tease her relentlessly?

It's not romantic - a rushed, terrifying kiss with a woman she doesn't imagine she will see again. She feels entirely foolish and a little silly, shaking her head as she glances away.

"No, no, it was at the Dark Court. A silly game of seven minutes alone in a cupboard, to share a kiss. I don't imagine I will see Max again nor do I have desire to - it was just a game. It didn't mean anything. It's not something that I think would develop into any kind of meaningful relationship." A soft sigh. "I've never had one of those."

The Dark Court. Jester's frown is partly because she is thinking of her wicked vile arch-rival, Byerly. The rest of her little frown is because Sidony reacts so badly to her pressing that she thinks for a second she has screwed it all up. Friends. All her life, Jester wanted real true friends, and it turns out they are really really hard to keep. She has a lot to learn.

But that's okay. Sidony isn't mad at her. She keeps talking. So they're still friends.

"Oh, well," and Jester sighs, for lost love, relationships that will never be, crushes that will always stay crushes, "that is okay, if you have never had a meaningful relationship. Like, do you want to know a secret? I haven't either. Isn't that crazy? But I will someday, and so will you. Because yeah, you are so pretty, and kind, and you wear such beautiful clothes, but that is all bullshit surface stuff, man, because also I can tell, that you are the kind of pretty that is really really good underneath. You are so kind and you are very very sweet, and I can tell, that you are such a nice person. And you want to be loved, right? So that is what really matters. Trust me," she finishes, with authority, and a squeeze of Sidony's hands. "My mama told me all of that and she totally knows what she is talking about. She is an expert on love, of all kinds."

It's embarrassment more than anything else and nothing that Jester herself has done; thinking of Max makes her think of her complicated feelings, the twisting in her gut, her conversations with Anders and Byerly and how it made her feel, anxious and desperate all at once. She thinks of Max and looks at Jester and her heart beats faster, suddenly, as if she's run some kind of marathon or if she is back on the battlefield, and she has to close her eyes to stop the momentum overtaking her. An oh moment that she refuses to recognise as existing.

At least she keeps talking, enough that Sidony feels a little more relaxed, some of the tension slipping from her shoulders. It would be so easy to trip and stumble into some kind of anxious little ball, but her mother had taught her so much better than that. Hold it all in, take a deep breath, sit tall and be proud. She is a Venaras, a lady of Nevarra, and she will not be quelled by something as silly as an emotion.

"I think it's remarkable that no one has snapped you up," Sidony comments idly. "You are equal to my charm, if not more, and there is no one in the Inquisition that might be able to contest that." Her fingers are being held, and Sidony swallows, squeezing them back. She doesn't want to let go, she thinks, and that makes her feel even more confused. "I would like to be in love with someone, but I'm afraid that I'm not the sort for something so fanciful." Her smile slips into something coy, playful. "But I would - I think it would be pleasant. To be loved by someone, to be wanted by someone."

"Aww--" Jester giggles, as her cheeks go a light pink once more. She lifts their hands up, hers and Sidonys, joined together by their interlocked fingers, and gives them a gleeful little shake. "Sidony. You are totally going to find someone to fall in love with, and they are totally, totally going to love you back. And that isn't fanciful, okay, that is just exactly what you deserve!"

She gives one last squeeze, to punctuate that statement, and then drops Sidony's hands so she can pick up her doughnut again.

"And I am really hungry, so I deserve this doughnut! Ahh--" A happy little gasp, before she takes another bite. With her mouth full, she asks, conversational, "Okay, so who's turn is it? In the game? I can't remember, am I supposed to ask you something or are you supposed to ask me something?"

Her fingers flex a little around Jester's, as if she's not sure what to do with herself. She's never had another girl treat her like this and there's a level of uncertain tension that she's not sure how to deal with it; mother never taught her how to manage something at all like this. Jester is so much, strong and kind and sweet, and Sidony has never been around anyone who has made her feel this way - made her want to have more conversation, to spend time with a person rather than a body or a book.

Fingers slipping away, Sidony breathes out.

"I hope that you find the same, if that's something that you want." Leaning back, she makes herself as comfortable as she can, settling before she turns her head and smiles. "I believe, since you asked about Max, that it is my turn to ask you something. I apologise for the lapse." A hand lifts, brushing hair from her eyes, tucking it behind her ear, and then -

"What is your favourite kind of flower?"

Jester blows a dismissive raspberry and waves her hand, banishing the apology between bites. "Don't be sorry, I am having such a good time."

She licks a crumb off of her hand as she considers Sidony's question. And Sidony, who probably knows so much about flowers. Even though she told Jester that her secret one-time crush, Max, is just that, one-time, Jester is still going to think about how Sidony deserves a Max forever. A long-term Max. Maybe she will help.

Oh man, that is such a good idea. Jester squinches her eyes as she tries to fix the thought in her mind. She cannot forget to find Sidony some good dates. And then they can hang out again and talk about it. It will be great.

"Ummmm," she says aloud, and taps a finger on her chin. It creates an air of extra thoughtfulness, which is then shattered when Jester gives a sheepish little grin. "Ummm. Sidony, can I tell you another secret? I do not really know anything about flowers."

"I'm glad you're enjoying yourself."

Alarmingly, Sidony seems intensely genuine about that fact. She's never found herself so entertained by another woman before - the ones she had been encouraged to spend her time with in Nevarra were more interested in marriage and silken gowns than they were any kind of real discussion. Sidony could only appreciate approximately half of what they decided to waste their time upon; she had never held any real desire for marriage.

With no idea what is going through the other woman's mind, all Sidony can do is smile fondly, head tilted. She doesn't reach for another pastry - she's had quite enough of the one she'd allowed herself to eat - but she does gently push the basket towards her new friend. They were brought for her, after all.

"Then... Perhaps you would allow me to suggest a flower for you?" She glances around, searching. "Do you have something I might draw with?"

"Sidony." Jester had turned back to getting crumbs off of her finger, but she leaves off abruptly at this request. She turns a frank look on her new friend. "Do I have something to draw with. I do not have something to draw with..."

She leans forward again, her eyes twinkling. Full of barely-suppressed glee, she confides: "I have many things to draw with! Ahh--"

She's graceful, when she hops to her feet. It might be surprising for a seven foot tall woman to be graceful, but Jester is. And her legs are long enough that she doesn't need to dash over to the trunk at the end of her bed--two short strides and she's there. Inside its safe snug shape, the trunk is full of art supplies. Mostly paints and paper, some of it gainfully purchased and some of it scrap that Jester has scrounged. The best of the paper is thick, and colored in fine pinks and purples and light blues. Jester picks out a blue piece for Sidony, and a fine pencil, and carries them back to the nest of pillows. Beaming, she holds it out, as she flounces back down into her kneel.

"Here. But you can totally have another piece, if you want. Okay, okay, what is the flower! Come o-n!

Sidony offers a small, gentle smile; of course the woman has something to draw with. Looking around the room, she's captivated again by the sketches, the drawings, the art, the beauty of it - it's a charming thing, handsome and a reflection of who Jester is as a person. Sidony appreciates that; her own artistic side is a little more subtle than that, entirely devoted to bones, the human body and whatever else she might learn from cutting beyond the skin.

Lifting her hands, she accepts the paper and the pencil, lifting herself up and turning just enough to angle her work away from Jester, a more teasing smile playing on her lips.

"Give me just a moment." And then she begins to draw.

It's not a masterful thing; Sidony is more adept at her stitching, at her weaving work, her embroidery. Her hand moves across the page gently all the same, sketching carefully, her head tilted and her eyes narrowed just a little as she focusses on the drawing she is trying to create. The first flower is a camellia, wrapped in a bouquet with a lily and a yellow tulip. After a few moments - with, of course, proper labels for the colours - Sidony turns the page around carefully.

"Here."

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watch me like a dark cloud (closed)

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sorry for the delay yikes

no problem!!

:*

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