faderift | 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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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."

watch me like a dark cloud (closed)

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