Xanadu Weyr - Garden
An arch woven from the tendrils of a willow tree stretches overhead lightly creeping with ivy as one steps in from the meadow into this sanctuary of green. Cool gray flagstone carefully spaced enables a soft velvety moss to thrive within the cracks, and creates a single wide pathway that fluidly breaks off into two paths of stone once free of the natural arbor. It is a wonder this place, and meticulously tended from the way it seems not a single leaf is out of place.
On either side of the main path expansive grassy patches are trimmed short and edged behind with natural tan colored stone selectively chosen to stack just right. Beyond these are a line of fine puffed shrubberies in vibrant green intermingled with flowering bushes of brilliant pinks varying in hue from the very light to the very dark, which causes the occasional snowy white blossoms of other scattered here and there without worry to simply pop out of the scenery.
Directly in the center of the garden is another wall of intricately stacked stone, this of muted grays, creating what from the air would prove to be a perfect circle. It's been set high for safety, but not so much as one would not be able to lean over it to admire what lies beyond, either standing or sitting at the smattering of benches whose backs are set every four feet along it. Flush to the ground inside it's protective stone outcropping, is an enormous twenty foot wide fish pond. Within one can glean the metallic glint of playful goldfish, the unhurried cruise of fat koi, and even a frog or three among pale yellow and white flowering water lilies and their thick green pads.
The trees surrounding the entire garden were planted to give the impression that they had always been here, not only lending to a rustic look, but also alluding to the beauty that can be found among the wilds if only one might just look for it. Species vary from the ordinary Birch and Pine, but the flaming red capsules of the Indian Shot to the robust orange spokes of the Firewheel tree suggest the spice of the exotic.
The air is crisp and cool, dried leaves in multi-various hues flickering and rustling from their position, clinging to the branches of their trees. It's that time of the afternoon where weyrfolk are hustling and bustling, trying to finish the day's work before supper, but at least one figure doesn't seem bothered by the rush. Perched on a bench, back propped up agains a birch, one of Xanadu's juniors sits with a flute pressed to her lips, slim fingers flicking over the slim holes carved into its length. The tune goes on for a short time, soft and sweet, then pauses, the goldrider pausing to pen a line of notes onto a half-full sheet of music.
It's the music that's lured the beast to the lair. This beast, however, happens to be a rather short bronzerider. He wanders along the path, his ear to the sky as if to catch the notes on the wind When they finish he frowns, a small crease breaking across his forehead before he looks around and notes the presence of a woman with a book and a pen. He doesn't immediately see the flute, but he does approach. "Hello."
Humming quietly under her breath, brow gently furrowed, Esiae doesn't notice the bronzerider's approach until suddenly, he's there. She tries not to startle, really she does, but if there's one thing that drives her to distraction, it's composing. "Oh, hello there," she chirps, waving the hand holding the flute, since the other one's busy hastily throwing notes on the page before she forgets them. "Lovely day out, isn't it?" In fact, it's a little cooler than is strictly pleasant, but she doesn't seem to mind.
"It's a little cool for me, but I was raised on Nerat…soo.." He rubs his arms and goes 'brrrr' before he gives a small laugh. "So it was you playing the music." he eyes the knot, tilting his head. "New goldrider?" He wonders. "I'm G'ir. Zimraith's." He pauses. "You've might of seen him. He's the one that looks nearly black." He motions to the bench. "Mind if I join you? And I'm sorry for startling you."
Esiae grins for his theatrical 'brr' and nods, glancing around at the changing trees. "Yeah, I hear you. I just came back from Ista myself," she says, gesturing to her tan, "but before that I was at High Reaches, so… Anywhere is nice compared to there." She blinks in surprise when he mentions the music, apparently not thinking anyone was listening. "Oh, yeah. I've had a tune stuck in my head for weeks, so I figured it was time to get it down on paper. I wish I could say it was going well… As for me, nah, I just… haven't been here in some time. Took a leave of absence to travel, make diplomatic ties, that sort of thing," she says dodgily. "Nice to meet you though, G'ir. I'm Esiae, of Sonyxaeth. She's the giant gold one that acts like a sophisticated puppy," she says, making a face. "I think I've seen him though, your bronze. Interestingly dark fellow. Seems a bit serious." Nodding to his question, she scoots over and makes room. "Ah, no worries. Composing's just very absorbing," she says, waving away his concern with a grin.
"Ah well yeah." G'ir grins and sits down. "He's eerily like my father in that regard. Wants just the best for me, wants me to succeed.." He gives a small shrug. "But at least he isn't going to handfast me to some minor holder's daughter." He snerks and nods at the tan. "I can tell. Fits. You seem the outdoorsey type." It's a vibe.
Esiae's head tilts to one side, song abandoned to aim a curious look at the bronzerider. "Yeah? Shards, I dunno if I could take that, being impressed to my father…" she says with a slight shudder. "Though I suppose, of the two, being betrothed is definitely the worst." Despite her words, there's laughter in the goldrider's brown eyes - clearly, she's teasing, even as she sets her pen and papers aside. "Hey!," she protests when he calls her outdoorsey, one hand pressing against her chest, mock-aghast. Ah yes, the other part of her past Harper studies: theatrics. "I don't know how I should take that." Well, clearly she finds it funny, rather than offensive, but she isn't gonna say that just yet.
"Take that for what it is, a statement of opinion." G'ir says tactfully. While not Harper trained in theatrics, he grew up in politics and he bows his head. "It's neither a condemnation nor praise. Although I find that relegating women to only 'indoorsy things' limits their capabilities and qualities as a person. But that's just me…" How old's this kid? "He's not that bad. I mean, unless he's keeping that he's a Lord Holder somewhere from me a secret." His eyes goes distant for a moment. "He's not. Doesn't even know what one is." He laughs.
Esi seems to be thinking the same thing, as the young-looking kid goes on about opinions and condemnations. One slim eyebrow raises, a quirky grin playing around her mouth before she shrugs, seeming to accept that diplomatic answer. "Fair enough. It's just the stigma associated with being 'outdoorsey,' I suppose. One tends to think of hunters and burly dudes with knives and axes and huge old beards and terrible checkered shirts, not… well, me," she says with a wink and a smirk. She laughs when G'ir's gaze goes distant, consulting with his dragon. "Well, /that's/ a relief. It'd be hard to explain, that one," she says, evidently picturing holdfolk questioning why their lord holder's a dragon.
"Plus I wouldn't like to be the mouthpiece. Had to do enough of that at home." G'ir says before he laughs at the mental image of a huge dragon sitting in the middle of a hold, grumbling and pointing claws out to try and get things done. "Well I certainly wouldn't think of you that way. It's the same way I don't like to think of Goldriders by the stereotype of being uptight. Or us bronzers of being randy sex monsters."
"Mm, I suppose that would get old fast," Esiae concedes with a snicker, "Though I suppose you could do just about whatever you wanted and could say it was his idea…" But now she's traveled into the world of the overly-silly, and, seeming to realize it, chuckles and shakes her head before moving on. "Nah, I know. I was mostly just joking. Besides, everyone knows goldies are the sexy ones, and the bronzers just have to do their best to keep up with our mess," she jests with a sagely nod. Then, perhaps finally connecting the dots between his origin and Lord Holder, she flicks him an appraising glance. "Came from Nerat, did you say? My father knew a Lord Holder there. They did business and we'd visit sometimes. Had a couple kids…" she said, trailing off in case she gathered things wrongly.
G'ir chuckles at that before he ohs. "Now, that's interesting." About the sexy goldrider bit and he laughs some before he tilts his head to the side. "My father's been the Lord Holder there for…thirty turns or more." He says, before he offers up a "Three sons, with me being the youngest." He clarifies.
Esiae has to shrug and grin for that. "I only call them as I see them," she says with a quiet laugh before she grows a bit pensive, squinting at the bronzerider. "Yeah, that sounds about right. Shells, can't remember what is name was - I haven't been there in forever - but it's entirely possible our paths have crossed before," she says with a wry chuckle and a shake of her head. "Every time I get it in my head that this world is great big, I'm reminded of how small it really is."
"I'm not going to ask how old you are, as that's a death sentence for males to ask ladies, so I'll assume that I was younger? What did your dad do?" he wonders. "I was the small one." he's a couple of inches shorter than Esiae as it is now.. "So I'd of been the little one."
Esiae chuckles for his joke, but ultimately shrugs the concern off. "I'm twenty-nine," she says, "and I've been away from home I was thirteen or fourteen so yeah… lots younger," the goldrider says with a grin. "He was a Seacrafter, Journeyman by the name of Emhall. Tended towards imports and exports, carried stuff all around the world around to those who wanted it." It's a simplistic summation, but it'll do. "Aww. I do remember there being a wee kid with a mop of curly blond hair…," she says impishly, glancing over G'ir's hair, which rather fits the description. "That's about all I remember though."
"You don't look twenty nine." G'ir says, "I'm eighteen, so yeah. That've been me." The young bronzer snickers. "Cuter then, but more handsome now." He winks, laughing a bit as he does so. "Ah, I don't remember." He admits, blushing some. "We dealt with so many, but I bet my father does."
"Aw, shucks," Esiae says, batting her eyes comically. "I bet you tell all the old ladies that." She seems to be handling it well, though, if she's laughing about it the way she is. "I am, though, alas. Time snuck up on me, as it is wont to do." She grins for his snickering. "Funny old world, isn't it. Who'd've thought, two kids like us would end up meeting again here." She laughs for his wink, apparently enjoying the mild audacity. "Indeed. You definitely grew up. And ah, don't worry about it. I'm sure you had bigger concerns at the time. I know I did. All I wanted was to be back outside." Her shoulders roll with a shrug. "Well, next time either of us see our folks, we'll just have to ask them, yeah?"
"I can send a missive to my father. Remember? He never was a stick in the sand about Weyrs. He knew their value and appreciated the people for who they were." G'ir beams at her praise and winks, flexing his arm. "grrrr.." It's laughable, the display. But there is corded muscle under that far too fine of shirt.
"Or, you could do that. Or, frankly, we could probably just ditch the rest of the day's duties and fly out to Nerat and-or Ista Hold and ask them to their faces, but what fun is that," she laughs. "Though, I've barely given /my/ dad time to miss me at this point." There is a nod, though, when he jogs her memory about his father's regard for the weyrs. "I do recall my dad praising him for that. I didn't much understand at the time, but on this side of things, I appreciate it." And then he's flexing for her and Esi can't help it - she presses the back one hand against her forehead, leaning dramatically against the tree at their backs. "Oh my. Someone fetch the Healer - I might swoon!" And she's joking, but, well, if he shows off, she's gonna look. One ticket to the finely-clothed gun show, please!
"I'll flex and catch you in all the same motion." G'ir gives the most cheesy look, grin, and faux deep voice call to that statement as he can manage. It's straight Gastonish. "I'm almost scared to head back home for fear that he's still plotting to find someone for me." He makes a face at that as he laughs. "I was more worried about trying to get out of classes and doing poorly at that." He admits.
"That's… terrifying," Esiae manages through a laugh, head shaking back and forth with her amusement. "I'd almost rather be dropped." She appreciates his humor, though, eyes glittering brightly before issuing a slight snort. "Well, that's tough cookies for him then, ain't it. You're wedded to your weyr, now, and if he thinks otherwise, you can point him at me," Esi says, and it's her turn to pretend to look menacing, and fail. "Can't say I blame you, though. Womenfolk are dreadful dull. Adventure's where it's at," she says with an approving tone. Her mouth opens, perhaps to say more, when suddenly she's hailed from across the gardens. Rats, she'd been found. "Well, break's over. If you ever /do/ wanna ditch though, come find me. Life's too short to do stuffy work all day." And then, with a wink, the weyrwoman's off with her stuff to meet one of the weyr's wingleaders for, well, stuffy work most likely.