Solomon & Isolde, pt III

Isolde
 || It wasn’t her first day in the herbalist’s shop, but it was the first entirely on her own. Isolde had managed to keep the place from falling apart or catching fire. She’d even managed to do a bit of tidying up. Rather than move or re-organize anything, she’d merely moved things to clean up around them. Collecting dried plant scraps, dust and dry soil in her palm, the petite florist hummed as she worked, presently alone in Eishara’s shop. She was dressed in a pale green dress sewn from summer linen (as expected) which featured a modest full-length skirt, and a svelte fitted vest over a semi-sheer white slip. The vest plunged over her bust modestly, flesh at her chest and arms concealed by the prim neckline and sleeves of the slip. At her collarbones laid a thin silver chain, from which hung a pendant impressed with the image of a thistle. Over her clothing she wore the same brown apron as any other day. Stormy grey-green hues searched the countertops, color emphasized by the green and white of her clothing. From under a mess of loosely braided curls, the prim woman’s eyes narrowed, lips pursed in thought. What was it she meant to do? She gazed across the small shop, hoping that she’d spy something that might remind her. Discarding the collected scraps, Isolde would slip her hands into the pockets of her apron and walk around the counter to survey the area. Humming as she mused about the forgotten task, she’d shift potted plants with a foot to check around their bases. Having freshly watered those that needed tending, she wanted to  ensure they weren’t leaking. Unable to recall the task, and noting the hour, Isolde glanced out a window at the dark sky. She moved to the door, opening it to peer out into the market square. The night market vendors were setting up, and it was time for the shop to close. She leaned on the doorframe for a moment, eyes distant as she watched people set up their tables and wares. A gentle breeze tugged a few hairs loose from their  tucked places, sending them across her forehead and cheeks. The prim florist enjoyed the momentary quiet, wind gently passing through the light fabric of her sleeves and cooling her skin. Nel whinnied, suddenly aware of Isolde’s presence and she turned her gaze to the mare, “Shush. We’ll go soon.” she said quietly to the stubborn old animal tied up at the post. ||

Solomoŋ
 It had been ungodly humid out for what felt like ages. From the moment he awoke to now he felt himself constantly uncomfortable in his clothing. Leather stuck to his flesh, cloth dampened by the summer heat, and boots feeling like miniature volcanos on his feet. Even Shade, who often times seemed impervious to the elements was lazed out upon his shoulder stretched out and fanning both Sol and himself with a butterfly wing. Solomon found himself envious of those back at the camp where they could easily take a dip in the river to cool themselves, he was forced to reside within the residual heat of his Inn. But as the day wore on a cooler breeze began to blow, bringing with it cloud cover that helped to tame the heat for just enough of a respite that Solomon would eventually venture out into the city for a stroll. The Market had become a regular haunt of his these days, both for the vendors and the pleasant company that he often ran into. (literally) In truth he was seeking out a familiar form, one that was adorned so with a lovely brown apron. Their brief moment of interaction had been cut off rather swiftly, and in his mind too swiftly for him to really let go. Further more he had a need to repay her for her hard work, which he'd strewn upon the dusty ground with his own ungraceful actions, soon the sky gave way to a gentle crack of thunder, and from behind him he could hear the pitter patter of droplets approaching him swiftly until he felt cold wet droplets begin their symphony across his form, and he relished in it, bringing his hands up and into the length of his hair pushing it back beyond his features. Enjoying the reprieve from constant discomfort. Though his hand quickly fell to his hip, remembering the salve he'd applied there, not wanting the gesture to go to waste. Swiftly his form made its way beneath the owning of a local business, Where a horse sat gently tied to its post, and soon a door opened giving him a momentary start before his eyes settled upon a vision of loveliness. It was not only then he realized he found a fondness in looking at Isolde, but that he was nearly prone to looking to long before shifting his glance to the horse giving voice to its discomfort being hitched to it's post for so long. He truly could sympathize with the beast. Long ago he'd a 'suitor' who enjoyed tying him to similar devices, if only to show off control. Drawing his mind from the thought he silently appraised the situation. Being just perfectly on the side of the door that Isolde was not looking upon. Sol eventually did speak. I'm, beginning to think you're playing a game of Cat and Mouse " he offered mirthfully. " not that I mind, being a mouse I am just not good at being hunted " he chuckled some. " Is this your building?" -end-

Isolde
 || The cool air brought clouds with it, and Isolde’s eyes moved from her horse to the sky. Nel stirred restlessly and the florist realized she was more likely bothered by the incoming weather than anything else. “Oh, I see…” she hummed quietly to the horse as she scanned the horizon and then the sky above. The wind tugged at the hem of her skirts, rolling around her on the ground before collecting stray foliage remnants and carrying them off with it. The crack of thunder overhead made her head duck, small shoulders perking up to frame either side of her face. Her gaze fell from the sky with the rain, watching it darken the streets in freckles. She breathed in the scent of summer rain and closed her eyes, letting her head tilt to lean against the doorframe as she turned her back to it. Hands remaining in her pockets, she felt a fine cool mist dapple her cheeks and weigh down her lashes. She sighed pleasantly, deciding she’d need to untether the horse and bring her around the back. As she opened her eyes to go about the task, she found herself facing Solomon, who chided her almost instantly. Giving her a start, she went rigid momentarily and breathed in sharply. Her cheeks immediately colored as she released the breath slowly, considering his words. “I’d think you’re more likely the cat in this analogy.” she said, finally offering a fleeting smile as she rubbed the mist from her cheeks. Or perhaps she was trying to rub away the pink stain lingering there. She surveyed the man before her, considering his features as if she hadn’t seen them before. How was it that he’d charmed her so? They’d barely had ten minutes’ worth of interaction, and somehow she was already comfortable with his familiar nature toward her. “Oh,” she shook her head, pushing her weight off of the doorframe, and closer still. She lilted to one side and passed around him gracefully, drawing herself in a small semi-circle unintentionally close to him. “No, I’m an apprentice under the owner, Eishara.” she said passively as she walked toward the horse to untether her. She was trying to play down her thoughts, though she was likely doing a terrible job of it. Her voice was softer, her eyes lingered a bit longer than they should, she passed closely with relative ease. The heady scent of lilac trailed in her wake. She returned, pulling the horse alongside herself. “Come on.” she said to both he and the horse, “We’re going ‘round back. The building has a much larger overhang for Nel.” she explained, producing a small carrot from her pocket for the animal before patting her neck gently. Isolde glanced back over her shoulder modestly, to see if he would follow. ||

Solomoŋ
It was a wonder that there wasn't another fateful fall again this time. No pulling her nearly into his arms so that those dainty hands of hers could press to his chest (He still felt the presence of feather light fingers at his sternum) All the while considering if perhaps he was truly the cat? Was he the one following her? in truth he'd only been avoiding the rain to ensure the salve on his hip worked as it was neant too. But then it had been her shop of all places. (Even if she were merely an apprentice, He could feel her presence in the stones) Ten minutes, and one brush with embarrassment and Solomon felt there was nothing in this world he could do to put a distance upon whatever THIS was. He assumed it was a friendship, and he enjoyed the idea of having a friend who did not know really who he was, or had been, Someone who didn't call him by a title as opposed to his name, Or worse yet call him by a title then his name. Sol had too many followers and would be courtiers in his fold. And he did so enjoy the idea of having a gardener as a friend, one he could learn from, or teach in turn. Either way that look over her shoulder, the way she pat the neck of the horse and the burly warrior was hesitant to leave his perch for a moment. She did not personify the spier beckoning the fly, so why his knees were jelly for that moment he might never know. Maybe it was the chaste way she looked at him, the way her eyes seemed to reflect a genuineness the likes he'd never seen before. In Glenn Haven, the Warlord was a conquest of sorts for the noble woman, who could woo the Master at Arms, type of game. Such interactions did make a man wary of the opposed gender. He saw them for the artistry in their creation, and enjoyed the melody in tenor. But after Malika, Solomon had allowed a jadedness to grow deep within him. Trust was not was not easily given. But he felt, that Isolde was entirely different, if only because she was a woman with a profession, and a desire to survive upon her own terms rather then that of another. Irregardless, he moved forward making his way behind the building, keeping himself on the adjacent side of the horse as they walked. " Wasn't expecting rain. " He said after a few moments, realizing he'd been entirely too pensive and quiet, for far too long. " but I'm glad for it " he offered with a resolute sagely nod " I hate the summer " he said finally" Too hot, makes me feel lethargic and lame " He brought his hand to his neck " Outhere in Immortalis especially, it's nothing like the Valley" -end-

Isolde
|| Isolde had turned her eyes away from him quickly after she’d dared the glance backward, finally realizing she’d fallen into a pattern for young girls with no self control. She internally chided herself, feeling a bit embarrassed she hadn’t realized it sooner. As she led the horse back around the building, she briefly thought on her own precarious position. Having refused marriage several times to the same drunk for various reasons— he still called her his intended. She reminded herself that she wasn’t exactly in the position to play with fire. That was precisely what Solomon was— and she found herself a moth. She leaned into Nel as she felt the weight of the thought saddle her shoulders. While she’d have never caved to loveless marriage for bloodlines, she also felt impossibly trapped by it. The sound of Solomon’s voice pulled her from her thoughts and she blinked once to clear her mind, not realizing they had both been stuck in the past for the moment. “I wasn’t either.” she  admitted, leading Nel into a gated back garden. Under the overhang of the store was an even bed of hay. As she held the gate for Solomon and his accomplice to pass, she smiled briefly in greeting at the small dragon. “Hello there..” she said, finally able to see something other than Solomon. The small creature still made her anxious, but she was warming up to him. As she closed the gate, the rain fell a bit harder, rendering thin cloth at her arms and chest sheer in the large plots they fell on. Her hair stuck to the nape of her neck, and the sheer fabric clung to her skin. She moved without urgency, not really minding the rain, the soil, or anything natural, really. As she unbridled the horse, she ran her palm against her shining neck and turned to make her way under the small overhang, leaving Nel to do as she pleased while the thunder rolled overhead. “No rain, no flowers.” she added with a brilliant smile, recalling an adage passed down to her from her grandmother. “The heat has been downright oppressive.” she admitted, agreeing with him. “You’re from the valley?” she asked, interest piqued. ||

Solomoŋ
 A moth to the flame, or a cat and mouse at this point it didn't really matter. They were neither falling down the rabbit hole, or leaping over it. Merely skirting the edge of something that could be, or couldn't be. But Solomon was not so keen on anything that involved matters beyond conflict, and chaos (Even if courtship could be called just that.) But he admired, and like a foolish young man when she looked over at him, his eyes met hers and within them there was a vague sense of something he didn't wish to know the name of, at least not in this moment. He still did however smile somewhat at the mention of the Valley, shifting his glanced from her to the Fay Dragon which trilled in greeting toward the woman. (As it had been napping through the entirety of their interactions) " Oh I've been rude " he said finally bringing his hand toward the house cat sized dragon and pulling it from his shoulder, holding its purposefully limp form out toward Isolde thoughtlessly (and much like one would expect with a large cat that was unconcerned with who pet it so long as it was pet and fed ) " This is Shade, Shade this is Isolde " He recalled her name from his first meeting with the Emperor before the throne " Shade is a Fey Dragon " he said offhandedly " He's basically a big scaled softy " The dragon snorted and made the leap from Solomon's hands to Isoldes shoulder where it with that lovely happy lizard noise rubbed its cheek against her own " He's a spoiled brat" Solomon added somewhat cheerfully. It was obvious that he'd a soft spot for the small lizard, something like a parent of sorts. OR a Human with that one special creature. " and he's Harmless, aside from some teeth " But the dragon had saved Solomon more then once in his life. Its immunity to manipulative magic being a big benefit to having the creature around. " Oh yes! "he said at the mention of the Valley " Glenn Haven, or rather what used to be Glenn Haven " he said honestly " since the fall of the castle It's become more of a Bandits Den " He shrugged softly. " I used to own a small farm south of the City, I didn't grow much, but it was comfortable and the space was good for comb....training " he remembered the way she'd seemed to shy away from him and Drenai as they had their unseen preverbiel chest puffing in greeting to one another. " I suppose I still own it...but it's a very long way from here now " -end-


Isolde
 || As Solomon retrieved his companion from his perch and held the small dragon out, she lifted a hand cautiously in the distance between she and Solomon. Isolde felt like a brick wall hit her when he said her name, but she hid it…decently well. She glanced up at Solomon hesitantly as her fingertips prickled in the empty space between them. As she reached to run the back of her knuckle under Shade’s neck, she squeaked in surprise as his wings spread, flashing the impressionist eyes at her before he found a new perch on her shoulder. Her eyes were closed for a moment, hand curled into a gentle fist as she winced needlessly. Opening the eye closest to Shade as he nuzzled her cheek, Isolde laughed blithely. “Hello there..” she hummed after laughter, tilting her head gently back against Shade. She could hear the affection in Solomon’s voice, and it left her smiling when she finally let her shoulders relax, eyes open and shifting to a shade of grey blue in the stormy haze of the evening based on the colors around them. She listened as he spoke of the place he called home, nodding with interest as she took a step back, toward the overhang. As the rain increased, she’d found herself a bit weighed down by the soaking through of her clothes, and harder of hearing as the rain rustled the foliage around them. “Mm, I’ve never been..” she mused, allowing her movement to speak for her, and resisting the internal urge to reach for his hand to pull him beneath the canopy, should he not follow. Her lips parted at the mention of his land and its use, but she paused after he finished, closing them to nod quietly. One hand moved to the weight on her shoulder and she gently ran her fingertip along the black and silver scaled pet as she mused quietly. “So… you’re still in active duty?” she asked, hesitantly. Her features had softened, eyes shamelessly trailing the scar over his eye. Water trailed down the side of the florist’s face, rolling over her jaw and diving down her neck to disappear at her collarbones. She fell into repose, intentionally hiding the weakness at her knees given the very thought of combat, leaning against a wall. ||
​