Unexpected Company

There's a light rain falling from the sky, but it's little more than a fine mist here in the gardens. Just enough to water the flowers and other plants, but not enough to really bother those that are walking through the district. It's a blessing after the weather of late; not that Daed has ever really much minded the weather. He walks without a cloak around his shoulders, seemingly enjoying the fact that he is covered in soft raindrops. His black hair is not soaked, but it is thoroughly wet. Bound back in a braid that sweeps nearly to his knees and his fine clothes are looking a bit the worse for the weather.

Daed doesn't really care. He holds Aya's hand occasionally as they walk through the gardens talking, seeking out the beauty of the gardens in a time when they are less fully occupied by people thanks to the rain. He seems... happy.

The held hand is also holding in return. Similarly, Aya is nonplussed by the weather. She has been relatively quiet so far, content enough to be... content? It may be only a temporary reprieve and not a permanent solution, but it is not unwelcome. A time to, possibly, relax without dire consequence. "This is ...pleasant." An experience she, and they, have had in rare, intermitted amounts as of late.

Daechir offers Aya a smile that crinkles the edges of his eyes slightly, and he squeezes her hand. "It is. Quite, peaceful. Feels like the world is holding its breath." He says this fondly, leading her over to a particular flower which has bloomed its way up the side of a wooden wall built to allow it to climb freely. Its flowers are not fully in bloom yet, but it shows promise. Obsidian fingers reach out to caress the bloom and he lets his hand fall without picking any of them free. Leaving the plant in peace. "My garden has nothing on this one, but I think that the plants there will be blooming soon as well."

"Peace," Aya repeats as she looks over the appreciated and unmolested partial bloom. "Let us hope that the world will exhale a pleasant sigh afterwards, rather than suffocate." Her tone is hesitantly hopeful despite the cynicism. She returns the squeeze. "Your garden will do well, and I will enjoy seeing them bloom."

"I should plant something there for you." Daed says with growing warmth, thinking of what bloom might fit in his garden. "What would you like? A thistle perhaps? Beautiful but dangerous to tame? A wild rose, not one of those cultivated blooms, but one that grows where it wills and has many thorns." There's a playful smile on his lips as he lifts a hand to touch her hair; tracing her ear. "I would like to see you with a crown of gladiolus, a flower known for its strength and beauty; but killing them would be a shame even to see you wreathed in them."

A brow arches in surprise at the initial suggestion and inquiry. Her thoughts shift to consider an answer amongst her non-existent horticultural knowledge. And then he provides a ready list of suggestions.

Between those and the touch, the circled ear blooms with some color. Her hand reaches up to clasp his before it retreats.

"The rose sounds most appropriate," she decides abruptly yet firmly, "and there is no need for a crown. A living example to thrive is most welcome." There is far enough death surrounding her already, they need not add more.

"Then a rose-" There's more there to be said, but the words die on Daed's lips as his eyes track behind her and find something there that makes his face turn ashen. Fear flashes through his eyes, stamped quickly down, but not gone. Instead every trace of emotion about him is shoved into a box in his mind and wiped away from his features. His hand pulls Aya toward himself and as much as he can to his side.

What he's looking at is not something that is so obviously terrifying. It's a mul'niessa woman, obviously a noble and by her clothes one not long from Charn. There are a few gentle signs of age on her face. Frown lines, and permanent crinkles beside her eyes. She looks in fact rather like Daed in a distant way. Tall for an elf, with his red eyes and though none of their features are exactly the same, she is like an older, feminine version of him nonetheless.

She is walking towards them.

The rising pleasance on Aya's features shifts to confusion at the amputated response and shift in Daed's features. To her credit (or perhaps that still-present cynicism), this quickly shifts to neutral suspicion before her head and eyes turn to follow his gaze. She reflexively aids in the steps to stand nearer at his side as she does so. The other mul'niessa is readily noted and observed. Similarities may be noted, though she says nothing. It is strongly implied that Daechir is familiar with this one, thus she allows him to lead for now.

"Daechir!" The woman certainly says his name with familiarity, moving towards them even as her eyes take in their clasped hands. She doesn't smile, but her pleasure is there in her eyes as she stops a comfortable distance from them. Wariness is in every line of Daed's body, and he bows his head respectfully to her just the same.

"Matron. I did not expect to ever see you outside of Charn." His tone is carefully modulated and she tisks gently.

"Are you not going to introduce me to your... lady? I had heard that you might be settling down with a nice Mul'niessa girl, but I did not believe it until now. Do not be rude; introduce us." She motions with her hand to him and he tenses at the small motion.

"Matron Calithailin, might I introduce the Lady Aya. Aya, this is the lady of my House, my grandmother Hloire Calithailin." He motions to the woman as he introduces her and she stands there, filled with the pride of her house and offers a faint hand to Aya. He however, seems less than pleased to be making introductions, though this is a vague sense given only by his distinct lack of emotion or intonation.

Aya does not know Daechir's house with great depth, though she does not have need. She is aware of enough; namely that he is here, his relations are (or were?) in Charn, and he is perfectly delighted by this arrangement. Still, she need not be impolite nor disrespectful. She dips in deep nod of a bow. "A surprise, Matron," she admits, "and a pleasure."

"So polite, even when he is being rude. Surely your whole name is not 'Aya'." She gives Daed a short look which he ignores save the twitch of his hand in Aya's. "I thought I taught him better manners than that. What House do you belong to dear?"

Daed blinks at his grandmother, interrupting almost rudely. "She is estranged from her family Matron. Another wayward soul like myself."

The woman blinks at this, looking at Aya and then almost - almost smiles. "Well, just because the two of you young folk have not seen the light yet does not mean that I can not become friendly with her family does it?" Her red eyes are all for Aya now.

Aya considers her response, yet only for an instant. She is determined to favor truth over lies, now, whether for boon or bane. "I was born of House Rrostoavae," she answers honestly. That she has no real current contact wit the same is left unspecified as Daed already mentioned estrangement. She does add, perhaps for Daechir's benefit, "No disrespect is intended; times have been trying as of late."

"Ah! A fine House!" She seems pleased with this development and Aya's upfront answer. She glances at Daed and then continues. "We shall have to be upfront with them of course about the unfortunate nature of Daechir's birth but... YOU do know do you not?" She lowers her voice to a whisper. "That he's a mongrel."

Daed sighs and narrows his eyes at the woman before him, taking a breath before speaking. "She knows-."

But his grandmother is speaking over him. "Thankfully he's not half-human. My son's proclivities are not _that_ egregious. And a few generations will see it worked out." A thin almost-smile. "Morseo he has our magic in his veins and if we are lucky the dark hair will die with him yes?"

Aya's face clenches, as does her hand upon his, though she attempts to limit her reaction to those. After releasing her tongue from her teeth, she nods. "I am aware of his heritage. He has all the gifts of his house..." she turns her head and eyes from matron to Daechir, offering a slim smile, "and then a touch more to make him unique." At the last comment of dark hair, she turns back. Her smile is absent, replaced with firm conviction. "That concern is many centuries away; you need not worry yourself, Matron."

The woman looks at Aya placidly, unconcerned by these things, but seemingly satisfied that Aya is still invested in Daed. "You never know dear. These things happen." Here she actually looks at Daed prospectively and gives one of her near-miss smiles. "We can always hope."

Daed makes a somewhat disgruntled noise in the back of his throat before taking a breath and looks at his grandmother with a blank expression. "I suggest you take Aya at her word Matron. She is quite headstrong." He looks at Aya then. "Speaking of, we were just about to go and see about putting in some flowers she wants for the garden. I would loathe to disappoint." Here he offers a low nod to the mul'niessa woman. "If you will excuse us?"

The Matron in question looks startled by his words and frowns at him. "No invitation to visit? You really have become quite rude Daechir. Your father will be disappointed if we do not come over for dinner at least once. He was hoping to see you during our visit here."

Aya gives the matron a slight one-shouldered shrug in response to Daed's comment of her head strength; apology or admission? She readies to continue their prior floral discussions as he excuses them, though the Matron's response halts her. That is additional information they did not have before, and not necessarily pleasant.

A morsel of wit prompts her to offer a suggestion, "Daechir, perhaps it would be best to invite them while they are here in the city. It would be more convenient for them than an unannounced arrival upon our doorstep." A smile to him then curls her lips, with delighted earnest beyond mere politeness. "I could prepare an unforgettable meal for them."

Daed looks a bit startled by this suggestion but shrugs his shoulders. "I would be a fool not to follow my own advice." He says gently, turning toward his grandmother and nodding to her. "You and my Father are hereby invited to dinner tomorrow. You know where the house is yes? I will look forward to what Aya has planned for you."

With that done, they leave his grandmother behind. Physically at least.

Aya remains close to Daed, his hand held fondly as they step away. Her smile remains. It is wondrous how pleasant a walk through the gardens can be, even when stumbling over an unexpected old weed…

-End