Now this is a gift one might appreciate in a far more straightforward fashion, if Wysteria's squeak of delight is any indication. She promptly fetches up the necklace by its delicate little chain, the dark stone twirling idly there at the end thanks to both the momentum of unwinding from her palm and the fair breeze coming off the water as the ferry clips along.
"Oh, it's perfectly lovely. I don't know that I've worn a stone for very dark before. It is quite mysterious."
From the admiring timbre of her voice, mysterious must be one of Wysteria's highest compliments. There is nothing quite so grand as to seem a little dark and unknowable, now is there?
Her attention flits past the stone to Derrica then; her smile is quite broad, bright in a fashion which is unaffected and untempered by any thought to look charming rather than just pleased.
Is there anything more satisfying than a gift being well-received?
Wysteria's clear appreciation eases some of Derrica's lingering worry. At least one gift will come to some use. The pinecone, well—
Tradition is not always so exciting. If Derrica thinks maybe she should have given Wysteria bread and honey as well, she doesn't let herself consider it for more than a moment. It's all done, at long last.
"You're welcome. I'm sorry not to have given it to you sooner," Derrica tells her, turning fully on the bench and tucking one foot up beneath her knee. "I hope you don't mind."
Wysteria's scoff is a powerful thing from deep in the lungs. Clearly she has practice deploying it for a wide variety of uses.
"Nonsense," she announces, lowering the stone and the fine little chain back into her palm. This she mindfully tucks into one of the expansive pockets of her skirts. the pinecone might travel safely in hand through Lowtown, but is seems irresponsible to tat about with a necklace in her fist. And lovely as it is, it doesn't exactly coordinate with her day's wardrobe.
"It is very thoughtful all the same. I hope I will have the privilege of returning the favor one day. Though I realize from personal experience that it is quite difficult to find a suitable husband while in Riftwatch's service."
It's a sweet sentiment. Derrica smiles over it as she leans one elbow on the rail running behind the wooden bench.
"That's very kind," she says, sincere over the words. "But I'm very sure you won't have an opportunity for something like that."
A statement that's extremely easy to mistake as an indictment of Riftwatch's potential husbandly offerings, when it has very little to do with the men in question at all.
"You could promise me that you won't hold it against me if the seeds don't bring you and Val a tree."
That is undoubtedly precisely the mistake the Wysteria makes for she makes a soft and sympathetic noise and nods with a particular Intimate Understanding. There is a reason such a large percentage of Riftwatch's members are unmarried, and it isn't because they are all fantastically eligible.
"You have my humble oath. Though of course I have every confidence that it will grow."
Is, she thinks after, a very silly thing to say. Now she will be obligated to convince Valentine to actually plant the thing somewhere. But there is something about sitting there opposite of Derrica which sparks some impulse to be agreeable.
The Understanding is observed, though when coupled with something akin to sympathy Derrica has the sense she's been misunderstood. She allows herself a moment to consider clarification, then dismiss the idea.
Instead, a widening of her smile at Wysteria's agreement.
"I hope you'll let me come and see it when it does."
But, not to wind them both into too many promises hinging on the well being of a small plant—
"Will you tell me a little of the wedding? I heard it was interrupted by spirits, but it must have been lovely before that, yes?"
Her flickering smile might easily be Why yes of course I will let you come see mine and Valentine's love tree, and certainly is not Should I plant this now and then laugh about it once everything has been annulled.
"Perfectly so. Warden Adrasteia and Lady Asgard did a commendable job with ordering the whole affair, and the weather was very agreeable—a lucky turn, you will agree, seeing as the whole thing was largely out of doors. At the time I was very cross about the spirits thing, but I can admit now that there is some satisfaction to be had from a thing being so memorable that it's widely discussed."
And it's hardly as of anyone died or was serious injured, so where is the harm in the slight posession of the event? Perhaps not the best omen for a new partnership, but that is hardly much of a concern at all given the givens.
"Have you been to many weddings? Now that you have left your Circle, I mean."
The moment of hesitation is more for that you have left your Circle than for the consideration of weddings. The latter is easily answered, and the former is best left alone.
"No, actually," she says. "But I think if more of them were to have spirits, I would try to attend them."
A little joke.
"I remember having been at some when I was very small. But it's different, when you're a child. You know how it is. You barely realize what's happening."
"Well if you should like to make the acquaintance of a spirit, you need another say the word and I will introduce you to one." This too is light, taking on the impression of a joke. Ha ha ha. Yes, they are both incredibly witty and clever.
But never mind that. For— "I believe that is the best time to attend wedding. If it isn't yours, I mean. No one expects a child to do any of the dull parts such as making pleasant conversation with the person sat next to you."
On the list of funny jokes to tell a Seer, this one is pretty high up there.
And while Derrica isn't exactly ready to casually discuss that aspect of her life, she is admittedly quite out of her depth in actual discussion of weddings.
"Wysteria, how many weddings have you gone to?" feels like a pertinent question. "Not counting your own, of course."
"Oh, at least two dozen. And those are the ones which I remember. I have a great many cousins and second cousins and cousins twice removed and my mother took great pleasure in traveling to oversee every variety of occasion. Not because she enjoys the festivities, of course. Only I think that there is nothing she loves quite as much as being able to complain about riding in a carriage, or needing to stretch her legs, or the the unevenness of a road and so on."
She is, in so many words, quite an expert on the subject.
(Weddings, not carriage rides. Although perhaps those as well given these circumstances.)
What a strange thing to consider, being in possession of such a sprawling family. Derrica's head has tipped to rest on her hand as she listens, marks out the idea of this abundance of cousins.
"Two dozen is a great deal of weddings," is her first, mild response. It might have been the only commentary, and Derrica might have asked after the novelty of a large family. What was it like to grow up so surrounded.
But now, instead she decides to question: "So you know what you'd prefer for your own wedding, when the time came?"
Unlikely to have involved spirits, but surely the rest—
Well, had she known? It's a very odd thing to consider so long after the fact. In the moment, swept up in Adrasteia and Alexandrie's support and enthusiasm, it had been quite easy to have all manner of opinions. What must be eaten, what must be had for drink, that music and dancing was required, and all the silly little things that must be seen to. It hadn't been her intention to be so specific (after all, it wasn't meant to be a proper wedding or a proper marriage), and yet how easily she had been induced into a state where she had allowed herself to be.
"Well yes. I suppose I did know." How odd. "But I can't say that was the purpose of having been to say many. It was more of a— a social obligation, I suppose. Or at least, that was my impression of them at the time. Pleasant ones, to be sure. Or at least the dancing usually was. The ceremonies are all almost quite universally dull in my experience."
Though there is some kind of curiosity in the question. What had it felt like for Wysteria to do such a thing? Was it boring even in the midst of making those kind of promises in front of so many people?
She laughs. It's a bright, ringing bell sound which carries on the water about them far more pleasantly than Wysteria's shrill natural patter.
"I'm only making fun, of course. It was perfectly well. And besides, I have never been to a Thedas wedding so there was at least some novelty for the particulars. The next one I attend will be, I'm sure, quite terribly unthrilling now that I'm so familiar."
"Oh it would be very thrilling to see a Queen be married—" is what she begins to say before the full implication of these questions strikes her. Once it does, some gleam alights in Wysteria's blue eye. Her attention narrows to Derrica then, a canny sharp point.
"Why, Lady Enchanter. I'd no idea that you were so interested in current events. You must come along with me when next I visit Lady Asgard for tea. We are the pair of us always looking for some new subject to discuss."
A poor opening. But the idea of tea is in and of itself disarming. Derrica can hardly imagine herself to be a natural addition to Wysteria and Lady Asgard's meetings.
"I'm sure I'm not following as closely as either of you."
There is a saying in Kalvad that to sense a trap is to already be caught inside.
"Oh, nonsense. If you're not following so closely, then you at least provide the benefit of a unique perspective. And I'm sure Lady Asgard is fiercely missing the company of a mage, given the absence of Enchanter Leander. I believe the two of them were quite close, and I was myself fond of him. I don't meant to imply that you would be his substitute of course. Only to say that there is a precedent for certain company on the Lady's veranda."
Whether or not it's a reassurance to hear that he'd spent his time in Lady Asgard's company isn't clear. The pang of his absence is easiest to consider.
"Maybe," she relents. "But I don't think I'm really the kind of company you're envisioning."
These kinds of conversations are not—
Well, Lady Asgard is not a mage. Derrica's never spoken of anything concerning mages with any lay person before.
putting a bow on this so derrica can't escape sorry
"That's perfectly all right. I'm certain we will all three of us have a grand time regardless. So long as you are partial to little cakes and cheeses and wines and that sort of thing. Those do, I confess, take up a great deal of the time." If Derrica is not a fan of any of those things (or the specter of this invitation which is being pitched), she isn't afforded much of an opportunity to protest for Wysteria continues cheerfully right along.
"When next we meet, I'll be certain to alert you and we may walk up to Lady Alexandrie's estate together. And in the mean time, we need only each of us concern ourselves with unearthing a little kernel of interesting news which we might discuss while there. It's usually best if it involves a person who everyone is already familiar with, but hardly required. Why, only the other day she and I discussed—"
And what follows is a very long retelling of a bit of Hightown gossip featuring a series of sisters with minor titles all of which are evidently attempting to court the same wealthy gentleman. The story involves each sister dosing her siblings with a mild concoction to induce a certain aggravation of the stomach—yes, that kind—so that when they at last met with the suitor all three were fantastically and appallingly out of sorts. Allegedly, as Wysteria tells it, he is said to have promptly left Kirkwall and returned to his winter home in Ansburg.
This story, for better or worse, carries them the remaining length of the harbor.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
"Oh, it's perfectly lovely. I don't know that I've worn a stone for very dark before. It is quite mysterious."
From the admiring timbre of her voice, mysterious must be one of Wysteria's highest compliments. There is nothing quite so grand as to seem a little dark and unknowable, now is there?
Her attention flits past the stone to Derrica then; her smile is quite broad, bright in a fashion which is unaffected and untempered by any thought to look charming rather than just pleased.
"It's a very fine gift, Derrica. Thank you."
no subject
Wysteria's clear appreciation eases some of Derrica's lingering worry. At least one gift will come to some use. The pinecone, well—
Tradition is not always so exciting. If Derrica thinks maybe she should have given Wysteria bread and honey as well, she doesn't let herself consider it for more than a moment. It's all done, at long last.
"You're welcome. I'm sorry not to have given it to you sooner," Derrica tells her, turning fully on the bench and tucking one foot up beneath her knee. "I hope you don't mind."
no subject
"Nonsense," she announces, lowering the stone and the fine little chain back into her palm. This she mindfully tucks into one of the expansive pockets of her skirts. the pinecone might travel safely in hand through Lowtown, but is seems irresponsible to tat about with a necklace in her fist. And lovely as it is, it doesn't exactly coordinate with her day's wardrobe.
"It is very thoughtful all the same. I hope I will have the privilege of returning the favor one day. Though I realize from personal experience that it is quite difficult to find a suitable husband while in Riftwatch's service."
no subject
"That's very kind," she says, sincere over the words. "But I'm very sure you won't have an opportunity for something like that."
A statement that's extremely easy to mistake as an indictment of Riftwatch's potential husbandly offerings, when it has very little to do with the men in question at all.
"You could promise me that you won't hold it against me if the seeds don't bring you and Val a tree."
no subject
"You have my humble oath. Though of course I have every confidence that it will grow."
Is, she thinks after, a very silly thing to say. Now she will be obligated to convince Valentine to actually plant the thing somewhere. But there is something about sitting there opposite of Derrica which sparks some impulse to be agreeable.
no subject
Instead, a widening of her smile at Wysteria's agreement.
"I hope you'll let me come and see it when it does."
But, not to wind them both into too many promises hinging on the well being of a small plant—
"Will you tell me a little of the wedding? I heard it was interrupted by spirits, but it must have been lovely before that, yes?"
no subject
"Perfectly so. Warden Adrasteia and Lady Asgard did a commendable job with ordering the whole affair, and the weather was very agreeable—a lucky turn, you will agree, seeing as the whole thing was largely out of doors. At the time I was very cross about the spirits thing, but I can admit now that there is some satisfaction to be had from a thing being so memorable that it's widely discussed."
And it's hardly as of anyone died or was serious injured, so where is the harm in the slight posession of the event? Perhaps not the best omen for a new partnership, but that is hardly much of a concern at all given the givens.
"Have you been to many weddings? Now that you have left your Circle, I mean."
no subject
"No, actually," she says. "But I think if more of them were to have spirits, I would try to attend them."
A little joke.
"I remember having been at some when I was very small. But it's different, when you're a child. You know how it is. You barely realize what's happening."
no subject
But never mind that. For— "I believe that is the best time to attend wedding. If it isn't yours, I mean. No one expects a child to do any of the dull parts such as making pleasant conversation with the person sat next to you."
no subject
And while Derrica isn't exactly ready to casually discuss that aspect of her life, she is admittedly quite out of her depth in actual discussion of weddings.
"Wysteria, how many weddings have you gone to?" feels like a pertinent question. "Not counting your own, of course."
no subject
She is, in so many words, quite an expert on the subject.
(Weddings, not carriage rides. Although perhaps those as well given these circumstances.)
no subject
"Two dozen is a great deal of weddings," is her first, mild response. It might have been the only commentary, and Derrica might have asked after the novelty of a large family. What was it like to grow up so surrounded.
But now, instead she decides to question: "So you know what you'd prefer for your own wedding, when the time came?"
Unlikely to have involved spirits, but surely the rest—
no subject
Well, had she known? It's a very odd thing to consider so long after the fact. In the moment, swept up in Adrasteia and Alexandrie's support and enthusiasm, it had been quite easy to have all manner of opinions. What must be eaten, what must be had for drink, that music and dancing was required, and all the silly little things that must be seen to. It hadn't been her intention to be so specific (after all, it wasn't meant to be a proper wedding or a proper marriage), and yet how easily she had been induced into a state where she had allowed herself to be.
"Well yes. I suppose I did know." How odd. "But I can't say that was the purpose of having been to say many. It was more of a— a social obligation, I suppose. Or at least, that was my impression of them at the time. Pleasant ones, to be sure. Or at least the dancing usually was. The ceremonies are all almost quite universally dull in my experience."
no subject
Though there is some kind of curiosity in the question. What had it felt like for Wysteria to do such a thing? Was it boring even in the midst of making those kind of promises in front of so many people?
no subject
She laughs. It's a bright, ringing bell sound which carries on the water about them far more pleasantly than Wysteria's shrill natural patter.
"I'm only making fun, of course. It was perfectly well. And besides, I have never been to a Thedas wedding so there was at least some novelty for the particulars. The next one I attend will be, I'm sure, quite terribly unthrilling now that I'm so familiar."
no subject
Which is maybe a roundabout way of considering: who else among their number might eventually marry?
"Or do you think you'll have to wait until Queen Anora chooses someone and hope Riftwatch is able to send a few people to the wedding?"
no subject
"Why, Lady Enchanter. I'd no idea that you were so interested in current events. You must come along with me when next I visit Lady Asgard for tea. We are the pair of us always looking for some new subject to discuss."
no subject
"Oh, I don't know."
A poor opening. But the idea of tea is in and of itself disarming. Derrica can hardly imagine herself to be a natural addition to Wysteria and Lady Asgard's meetings.
"I'm sure I'm not following as closely as either of you."
no subject
"Oh, nonsense. If you're not following so closely, then you at least provide the benefit of a unique perspective. And I'm sure Lady Asgard is fiercely missing the company of a mage, given the absence of Enchanter Leander. I believe the two of them were quite close, and I was myself fond of him. I don't meant to imply that you would be his substitute of course. Only to say that there is a precedent for certain company on the Lady's veranda."
no subject
Whether or not it's a reassurance to hear that he'd spent his time in Lady Asgard's company isn't clear. The pang of his absence is easiest to consider.
"Maybe," she relents. "But I don't think I'm really the kind of company you're envisioning."
These kinds of conversations are not—
Well, Lady Asgard is not a mage. Derrica's never spoken of anything concerning mages with any lay person before.
putting a bow on this so derrica can't escape sorry
"When next we meet, I'll be certain to alert you and we may walk up to Lady Alexandrie's estate together. And in the mean time, we need only each of us concern ourselves with unearthing a little kernel of interesting news which we might discuss while there. It's usually best if it involves a person who everyone is already familiar with, but hardly required. Why, only the other day she and I discussed—"
And what follows is a very long retelling of a bit of Hightown gossip featuring a series of sisters with minor titles all of which are evidently attempting to court the same wealthy gentleman. The story involves each sister dosing her siblings with a mild concoction to induce a certain aggravation of the stomach—yes, that kind—so that when they at last met with the suitor all three were fantastically and appallingly out of sorts. Allegedly, as Wysteria tells it, he is said to have promptly left Kirkwall and returned to his winter home in Ansburg.
This story, for better or worse, carries them the remaining length of the harbor.