Unlike some that might not be easily able to manipulate another into laying down, he seemed capable enough of doing so. Only around when he finally awoke where the sun was likely cresting across the horizon. Making use of limbs to have some movement, he made an effort to take the rounded quilt of a girl from the chair to plop down into the bedroll. Using his own blanket to toss over top before leaving the hut for a time.
Taking only a small bowl and boots with him seeing as it would be a bit of a pain to walk around on the forest floor getting stray pine needles in the foot! Putting together the effort of himself to wake up that of his own body! Preferring the early morning anyways, as the world was generally quiet at this time.
Although he didn’t stray too far from the hut –keeping it within sights- but set about to collecting the bits of food that clustered in healthy bushes that he was aware weren’t likely to make someone sick. Unless eaten in abundance, though he couldn’t be sure the last time he heard of someone eating raspberries till they vomited, anyways.
Knowing that to keep their united strength up, they’d have to go to a village to procure proper supplies. More than just simply salted meats and nuts. Sure that he could manage to finagle a trade if he needed too as well, though that would be a first for him. Having more habits of a huntsman than a prince, any day of the week!
He’d step back in with the bowl to set on the table once it had been suitably filled. He could go and fill the waterskin but that would be a ten minute walk and if his mother was who he believed her to be, he didn’t think it wise to be absent longer than a few minutes. No more than five. Although that was pushing it as well.
Re-entering the house again after a collection of a few minutes, he made an effort to bring in a few more logs to refill the small holder beside the fire. Trying to decide what best way they should go firstly. It wouldn’t take much to cross the distance back to the forth trial area, but he did believe a need for supplies ought to be first.
Warm and snug, Araminta could’ve slept through the entire day had her stomach not roused her with such an aching growl. She even cursed it, burying deeper into her quilted nest, hoping that if she ignored it long enough it would go away and she could sleep longer.
Until she realized this nest was awfully comfy for what was supposed to be a chair.
Araminta sat up quickly, tossing back not just one quilt but his blanket as well, hair all frizzy from static and the most cross frown and furrow of brow one could have. As if she was about to immediately launch into some sort of scolding – only for her to immediately let out a resigned heavy sigh.
If they were going to do battle over whom was taking care of whom… well. That was quite a wholesome and wonderful battle to have. In the end, they’d be two people well cared for, and who could possibly be upset about that?
Moreso, Araminta was just so very glad to see him still there. Offering a steady smile the very second her ire wore off. He’d had his boots on, but not his armor and with the bowl on the table she was quick to surmise what he’d spent his morning doing.
“Good morning, Theon,” she said first, eyeing him carefully just to be sure he’d actually gotten enough sleep. There would be a long list of things for her to do, and she would absolutely plan around having to roll him up in the quilts and hold him hostage for a day if needed.
He could feel it before he looked at her. The way her eyes seemed to be crossing over his form with what he had to guess was her own inspection. What she was looking for would remain a mystery, just that as she sat up with hair looking like it was attempting to touch the roof, he rose to take the bowl from the table. Stepping over to offer it down to her level. Humming gently in his own way of expressing he was greeting her as well. He’d spoken more in the past day and so than he had for what felt like a year!
Though the way she was still giving him the eye, he paused. Shortly following the motion to see what was so particular on his being that was worth such a scrutiny. Coming up devoid of any obvious answers.
So rather than linger on it, he pushed on. “Supplies.” Theon started, “It would be wise to have them prepared. If you wish to complete the trials, then providing the necessaries items would be the place to start.” A finger pointed to the berry bowl, “It is limited, there is not much to forage around this area without a bit of a walk.” And he didn’t have a bow and arrow to go game hunting anyways. “When you are rested enough, I will follow your lead.”
“I always plan for supplies and the trials,” she told him with a lift of her finger. If he’d not realized that by now, then it was good to tell him all the same, as it seemed this time he was going to stay and travel with her. Something that, despite the scarier reasons for it, actually filled her with a renewed sense of joy. Araminta very much loved company, and his, even in his silent moments, was becoming something she looked forward to.
Resting the offered bowl on her lap, she popped a few ripened raspberries into her mouth to calm down that rattling growl of her stomach, then attempted to do something about her wild and frizzy hair. Combing her fingers through it a few times until she could effectively plait the ebony curls into a tidy braid to toss down her back and out of her way.
“We’ll fetch my bag first. I’ve already gotten what I needed for the fourth trial, so we’ll not have to worry about that. Just what we need for travel.”
When it was Araminta alone, she’d only taken with her the barest of minimums. With Theon with her, she’d need to make sure there was more than that. Something more substantial than stale bread!
“It’d be a delay, but we can go see what the white wolf wishes,” she paused, once again amused by accidental alliteration. “I imagine a few unexpected detours will make me harder for any rogue assassins to track me down. A trip to the enchanted wood and then straight on to the next trial.”
Instinctively he stiffened when she replied that she always planned for supplies and the trials. Allowing himself to swiftly correct his error of speaking in such ways. Suppose each time he seen her previously, she did have a plan of action. And hardly devoid of anything that wasn’t necessary for that time. Encouraging head to bow to acquiesce to her knowledge, Theon moved to at least start picking up the pieces of his assorted armour.
Giving it a dutiful once over before the parts were to be re-adorned to his frame. Lending visual cues that as she spoke and worked her hair into a manageable braid, he was still in fact listening. Silencing down as to be the diligent follower, he took mental notes to be wise to what he had to say at all.
He had not challenged the trials before and had no reason to do so. Now, he was no more than a awkward tag-a-long that was intending to be of use in some manner.
Pulling the leather strings to tighten their hold upon gauntlet, Theon considered the mention that she would want to take a detour to see what the white fae wolf wished for. Leaving him to add it to the internal list with a fresh bobbing of head. It seemed she had a plan in mind. Which funnily enough caused him a pause to look at her almost as if he were uneasy about the question forming in his mouth. “W-… what is it you wish to be address by at this point?” He had never called his mother, mother outloud before to her face. It was her majesty, her highness, the imperial queen. Nothing more. If Araminta was the one now to hold the leash to his collar, then it would only dictate that she would be required to be called something far more fitting than her name. “My lady? Mistress?” He offered softly to at least try to be helpful.
It took a moment for Araminta to realize he was acting peculiar, but while she ate as many raspberries as she could reasonably chew at once, she was having a difficult time pinpointing exactly why.
Then he’d asked the silliest question she’d ever heard. Araminta almost told him to call her sweetheart, just to see if that’d make him blush! Really, though, this was a problem they needed to work on quickly.
She scurried up to her feet and set the bowl of berries aside on the table. Then moved in front of him to wiggle her finger and beckoning him to lean down to her eyeline. Once he did, she smiled wide.
“Call me Araminta as you always have,” she whispered. “Prince Theon.” With the title she tapped his forehead gently.
“You and I are the same, Theon. Actually, being an Imperial Prince of such a large empire, I think it is I who should be calling you my lord and serving you as your knight!”
With a beckon, he was swiftly moving to adhere to her motioning finger. Bending to be within reach till she was tapping on his forehead with two little tidbits of information. One, she was still Araminta –even if that seemed to make him squirm internally. Not sure that was how he was supposed to be addressing someone that was undertaking more tasks than she originally had agreed too. And two, he frowned at the prince part. Knowing damn well he had never been much of one or treated as one! They were hardly the same.
However, he was not about to start arguing slim facts simply for the sake of it. It did seem to amuse her, why? That was left as a silent question mark.
Taking to straightening up once more with that compliant nod to it all. Merely agreeing without a need to say no or what to anything in particular. Finalizing eventually the motion of protective attire with that of the cloak as the final piece. Pinned into place to hang from shoulders once more. Looking towards the woman with a silent expectation that when she was ready, she’d give him the next bit of orders to follow. Assuming that it would require the swift flurry of movement that was obtained by the transformative spell of human to equine.
“Theon,” she said his name with a heavy sigh, unsure what she was going to do about him. Araminta hadn’t realized she was going to have to teach a prince how to relax and be himself – a self that wasn’t in forced subservience to another! Fussing at him wouldn’t do the trick either. What he needed was actual softness in his life. At least that was something Araminta could very easily provide.
Thus resisting the urge to shake him to sense, Araminta did what she always did. Took her time with getting ready, as she went over the day’s tasks in her head. Checking on him now and then with the a flicker of a green-eyed glance as she tugged on her boots and clasped her new cloak around her shoulders. What was left of the raspberries she scooped into a loose pocket, as they’d be a handy snack along the way. The fork to fetch her bag was in the complete opposite direction to the enchanted faerie forest… but she needed her bag above all else. It’d be a very long day of walking!
“The village first, yes?” since it was close by, no matter what. “A few extra supplies and a gift for the fae, I think. They’ll like a gift.”
Araminta then hooked her arm around his, very pointedly meaning they were to walk together. Not with him trailing behind her like some sort of whipped mule.
“…you might have to help me wash pair of dogs. But they’re very sweet dogs!”
Shoulders squared and back straightened at his name being spoken. Sighed rather. Invoking a curious flutter of attention to search over herself. Looking for whatever might be obviously the matter that she would take his name into such a effort of breath. Save there was nothing there for him to discern. Simply left to stare at the ebon crowned dame with studious intrigue. Offering no insistence for her to hurry or delay in either direction.
Playing the dutiful soul observing each piece of gear addressing her form till she was suitably made into a travelling being again. Turning his head some further when the berries he had picked were put into a pocket.
Leaving him to linger his gaze there but stopped when she spoke about stopping at the village first. Something he thought she had brushed off because as she stated, she already had supplies. Or that was how he heard it. Though it seemed there was more to this idea for she wished to locate a gift that a fae might like.
As a half fae himself, he couldn’t tell her what one would or wouldn’t like. The idea of a gift at all was semi baffling. Or it was the sudden hooking of her arm through his own that drew that settlement of befuddlement. Looking at her arm to his and back again. Trying to reason out what purpose this had. If seemed like it might cause a pain to walk over uneven terrain, if he did think so himself.
“…dogs?” Theon repeated then, trying to fathom what on earth washing a pair of dogs had to do with anything here. Slipping hand around under cloak to fiddle with his good hand to loosen the small pouch before holding it to her. It wasn’t a lot of coin but it was certainly plenty enough to buy some supplies. So long as they weren’t outlandish things.
“A job,” she easily answered at the question of dogs. Only to curiously blink when he brought out a pouch jangling with coin. Hesitating to take it at first before she complied. It wouldn’t be prudent to deny the offer now, while he still had the easy access to the sort of wealth a prince did. By the weight of it, she figured she could stretch it quite a while if she still did small jobs along the way.
Araminta made it disappear into the same pocket as the raspberries.
On leaving the hut and making their way towards the nearby village, Araminta’s hold on his arm was gently light – in most cases not being anything more then a hand resting in the crook of his elbow, and in more extreme ones when she’d grabbed him suddenly for balance. Laughing it off briefly about not seeing rocks or twigs, when really it was her leg wound giving her trouble. After spending a week in the cage, she wasn’t limping as badly as before, but now there was an entirely different sort of ache.
He didn’t need to worry about that, though. It was a wound from before and would have to heal eventually.
Once they’d entered the village, Araminta had to rethink her usual habits. On her own, she immediately set to job hunting. Speaking to everyone she ran into to ask about their day and if they needed anything. This time she could get straight to the market square to look for everything they needed!
Regardless, she still cheerfully waved to everyone they came across. Not saying a word about their curious or stunned faces about her silent companion.
“What do you think we’ll need for a few days on the road? Should we get one of those giant back packs with the blanket rolls and the straps and the little hook for frying pans?”
Truthfully he had forgotten about her limping about at all. Easily being swayed to believe that when she grabbed on for dear life, it was because she had stumbled over the roughage that made the travel hard. Starting to keep a tally of each time in case he had to whisk her up into a princess carry to assure she didn’t accidentally tumble down so hard that she did hurt herself. Although he wouldn’t admit it outloud but there was a nice warmth each time she laughed about it.
Such a noise left him hushed but it wasn’t as if he was clammed up entirely. Busying more of his focus to watching which step could be problematic next.
Till they came to the village and a strong flushing discomfort rode down his spine. Being amongst the locals was entirely different when he wasn’t intending to be the hunter of someone his parent particularly loathed! Forced to listen, to watch, to take in the scenery and their own curious looks that seemed to be trying to pick out that question I know you, don’t I?
He’d sooner stay out of the village if he had anything to say about it.
“Days?” Theon asked her with a slight bit of uncertainty to his voice. “I… don’t… we don’t need to travel by days.” She knew what he could do now and he certainly didn’t make it a habit of wandering the lands by his own feet that often! With a momentarily consideration of the thing she mentioned –not sure he had ever seen such a pack in his time wandering and working- he shrugged softly. “If you wish. Though I am not sure where such a thing exists.” Something about that didn’t seem likely to be in this town. “If we are to buy anything here… I would suggest a bow and arrows. Such things make hunting easier. Instead of snares.” And he wasn’t about to wandering the woods or plains tossing fireballs around for hunting either!
“I’m not going to jump on your back and ride you around the realm, Theon,” she actually did have to laugh at that, as there he went being so funny again without meaning to! He didn’t realize how silly that was? Let alone rude, to use him so! However she didnt pause, tilting to give him a curious, teasing squint.
“…well. Unless, of course, you enjoy it. You did seem to enjoy tossing around rogues and scoundrels for a ride.” If a horse could look delighted with throwing people around, Araminta was sure he had. At least the tiniest of bits.
She was glad at least he had an idea of what he needed, yet he seemed to stiffen up whenever a villager with give them an especially curious glance. Nor did he seem all that familiar with the town in general. Did this man not even know how to interact with people? Did he not even ever come to the village?
Maybe not, if the original state of his hut was to be considered. Theon was far too easy to imagine huddled alone the forest with a small camp fire and that impassive face. Still, whenever he did seem to tense, Araminta would softly squeeze his arm or give the smallest encouraging brush of her thumb. A smile here and there to be sure he knew everything was fine here.
“A bow, quill, and arrows, then,” she agreed easily. That’d be useful for the both of them, though more him than herself. Araminta wasn’t talented with a bow, but at least she knew how to use one. “And a sturdy bag for the extra supplies, I think. We can browse the market that way.”
With a simple point and a nudge on where to turn, she pointed out the tale beginning of the market square. The village wasn’t much in the terms of population, but there were enough craftsmen and women for a decently sized trade market, especially so close to a main road. By now she knew almost all of the regular faces here, happily waving to anyone that shot her a smile.
The sound of her laugh was enough to dissuade any sort of embarrassment he might have developed when she put it out so bluntly. As if she were mounting him like some rogue fiend rather than the fact being, he was simply able to go faster to places that most wouldn’t. With a slight turn of features and a brushing of finger across his own lips, Theon was avoiding looking at her too much then and there. Not about to agree whether or not he had been enjoying tossing around those foul men. Simply leaving it to her imagination. Before more of his discomfort grew with more bodies becoming present.
Things that were supposed to be normal for a royal, hardly fit him. Then again, one didn’t exactly have a normal parent either. On either side! Would it be so strange to know that he just wasn’t brought up with anymore more than a willful expectation that he was quiet, out of sight and compliant with the askings of the ruling mother? Forget socializing, or learning items that weren’t helpful in the least!
What mattered was perhaps getting that of a bow and arrows. With a tilted attention at the mention of a quill? Unsure of why she would need a writing utensil. But dared not to ask it out loud.
Merely taking the way she pointed and nudged him to move along the open spaces that acted like streetways to follow along. Observing how Araminta seemed to blend in and mingle rather seamlessly. Was it normal for her as a princess to be amongst the commoners of her fallen kingdom? It seemed like it was second nature to her after all.
“Hm, what first…” muttered Araminta out loud. Well, it seemed if she wanted to be able to carry all this gear, they’d have to stop by the leather craftsman to secure a secondary bag. A good of a first start as any. With less of an urgent speed than she usually would, she led Theon casually over to a stand where a potbelly older gentleman with a ridiculously huge mustache was busy hammering grommets into a new piece he was working on. All in his stand were a wide variety of leather crafts, from mugs to bags to armor. Local too, as this was his usual spot in the square.
“Ah! So the wee lass finally makes an appearance for Bruno! What is it then? A job, a trade?” said the boisterous individual, looking up from his work at Araminta’s now family presence. As for her companion… he gave Theon a curious, but ultimate unrecognizing look.
“A purchase today,” she answered with a big smile, leaning over his counter to spy around at what was hanging up all around him. “An extra bag for traveling, something with extra straps, a knapsack maybe?”
Bruno seemed to be waiting for something else from her, but after a short side eying wait he shuffled through some of his stock behind the stand to pull out something akin to what she described. Just about the right size. Compared to all of the other pieces in his stand, it looked… shabby.
“One hundred,” he stated the price boldly, a sparkling gleam in his eye.
“One hundred,” Araminta agreed, reaching for Theon’s pouch she’d left in her pocket of raspberries.
Bruno paused, looking so shock and bewildered he actually pressed a hand to his chest. Finally with a loud slap to the counter, he shouted! Furious! “NO! What is this sweet acceptance? You think old Bruno can’t go toe to toe with the market fox as well!”
Araminta flushed a bright red and floundered. “What? N-No! It’s just that I actually have mon-“
“Disrespectful!” he shot back. Waving his hand at her and her silent companion. “Going easy on an old man, while this drink of water watches, is it! I’m too old and pathetic do to me own haggling, is that what it is?”
“I- Oooh, fine,” Araminta huffed, her entire face having gone red with the embarrassment of it. What a silly scene to be causing over nothing! Still, she gestured her hand at the bag he offered, pointing at the things as she started. “You didn’t make this bag, the stitching style is different from everything else you have here and it’s not even nearly as well made! It’s also frayed and worn out on the corners so it isn’t even a new piece, you’ve must’ve gotten it from some other trader. I’ll give you twenty at best and that’s if you give me a waterskin too.”
“Fifty,” he shot back with a snort.
“Thirty and I won’t tell Miss Maisle about the pig.” The way Araminta said it, there was something gravely important about that pig.
“HA!” Bruno finally laughed, slapping his knee in the process before wagging a finger at her again. “There’s that fox. I wonder how you came about that,” he marveled.
“You’re a bunch of gossips, really,” she explained, easily. Quite the truth of it, too, Araminta had found. People loved to talk and share stories, and the more wicked the information, the more they wanted to hear it. Once money and goods exchanged hands, she tucked that waterskin away inside the bag and hefted it on to her shoulder. Then she’d returned to her friendly link of Theon’s arm, leading him away to the next stall.
Surprises.
It was plain to know that Araminta was plenty full of them! Though he was trying to make any head or tail sense of it all, she was prompt at assuring he wasn’t exactly free to slid away from her either. Leading on with the pull of arm to where she had decided what came first. Leading them to a man that appeared to have his lower face casually eaten by the biggest fuzziest caterpillar ever known to mortal kind! The thing surely was no mustache he had ever seen before, though it seemed that was hardly enough to keep his blasé stare upon it.
Shortly lead figuratively by the nose to listen to the conversation. Which apparently started out as the older man –calling himself Bruno- seemed to be in belief that Araminta had come for work. Enough so that he was able to personally pick up that her face or name had been used enough around this village of commoner’s that they might as well have been lined up awaiting their turn to give oddjobs.
Save that Araminta wasn’t looking for work. Earning a lingering look but in moment’s, most of that became inconsequential. Due to the fact that she wanted to purchase a carrying pack had come forth at a price that even made him slightly raise an brow at. He was by far no haggler by any means, but he could tell that bag was not worth that amount!
Wondering if he ought to step in himself, the sound of a hand slapping to the counter was enough to jerk him into an alert position. Nearly reaching for the hilt as an action of warning but found that Bruno was testing Araminta’s mettle. One that had come out that he wasn’t pleased he wasn’t getting a chance to barter with her.
Okay so it wasn’t just the former princess that was a glaring oddity, this man was as well! He’d take a chance to slightly sidestep once he was sure Araminta wasn’t going to latch onto his arm to hold him stationary, while he bared witness to a lot of words being thrown about that made next to no sense. Even looking around for a drink of water at some point because what the hell did that mean. No actually, what was this about a pig? Who was Miss Maisle…
All of this was just so… much.
Leaving him perfectly stunned in the interior sort while the exterior maintained its dull acceptance of everything. Idly offering the man a proper nod of respect –though he wasn’t sure if he deserved it- Araminta was swift at capturing him one more to insist he went along to the next stall. Was this how most villages worked? Or were they all just a little bit unusual?
“He needed that extra coin,” muttered Araminta with a huffed. “Should’ve let me give it to him. His son broke his arm not long ago, so it’s been tricky for them…”
From Araminta’s perspective, these were just natural sorts of things to come to know about people, when you spent longer than a few days in the same location. Even if she hadn’t need work just in order to survive, she was the sort of person who unabashedly struck up conversations with strangers. Odd, perhaps, for a princess to be so easily comfortable and familiar with what some royals might consider lesser people, but Araminta didn’t seem to come from the same brand of Royal Decorum as the families of the Twelve Kingdoms.
Where Araminta felt it as easy as a summer breeze to talk to people, she was very curiously now peering at the silent Ghost and his ever impassive exterior. The more time she spent with him, the easier it was to see past that stoic face to when his inner wheels were whirring. Making Araminta wonder… how exactly was this Imperial Prince raised? He couldn’t have been raised only as an assassin, unless he truly did have that strong of a burning heart that somehow despite the treatment he still had a softness to him.
Still… it didn’t seem he knew how to exist around actual people, leaving Araminta trying to think of the best way to ask him without being insulting.
“Did you spend most of your time in the Imperial Castle or elsewhere?” she began, hoping that it’d be a good start.
Oh he heard her. Mentioning how the elder man with the outrageous face ornament had needed the money. Due to a child having sustained a broken limb. Thankfully not requiring an explanation as he knew enough that common families tended to work and help another to survive. It would seem by Araminta’s comment that the boy that was not present, was worth coin. Coin that was depleted right now by the lack of work.
Just without looking back over his shoulder to the man that was shrinking away, he could suspect that Bruno had pride. Well… not suspect. He knew. After all he had gotten rather verbally feisty about not being challenged for a haggle. It was doubtful that he would have responded well to any sort of charity. Even if it was in the form of a payment.
At least that was what he was assuming. Leaving the woman to her thoughts at the moment before he could feel her giving him a look. Avoiding the effort of positioning attention towards the corner of his eye in a silent what, it seemed there was something lingering for her to wonder.
And query.
“Within.” He stated gently enough. “There were expectations to be followed when I was old enough.” Then he looked at her, “I followed.” Perhaps making it clear that he certainly wasn’t raised to play and frolic as young children had. His mother had strict plans for him that required no straying from that decided path. He did what he was told! Of course as a small boy, he did it out of some naïve hope that if he did well, he might make his mother proud enough to acknowledge him. Or extend an offer of affection. Just when nothing of the sort happened, it became clear he was merely another versatile tool that was made for her hand to wield. Successfully one might add, only now he was standing on that rebellious effort that might have been long overdue.
Araminta could easily put two and two together. Even as a child he was expected to be a ghost. Not seen, not heard, just a specter meant to be a weapon and tool for the one that bore him. There was a certain level of education to be certain, but he was intelligent on top of that. He’d clearly spent his time being a silent observer, learning far more than what his mother put into him.
“I see,” she responded softly, finding that this somehow made him all the more extraordinary. To have grown up the way he did and not become some sort of vicious murder monster. There was still all the opportunity in he world for him to steer wildly off to a new course of life. Araminta could show him so many tiny wonderful little things that made the world worth living in.
At least for the short amount of time they could before his wicked mother came after them, anyway!
Araminta’s shopping journey led them next to a stall with a hefty awning and loaded tables of knick-knacks and nonsense, where a little old lady that seemed so ancient she was practically a raisin by now was sitting in a rocking chair working on quilt very reminiscent of the ones now in Theon’s hut. Her eyes were still keen, though, bright and delighted to have herself a new customer for the day.
“Back from your fishing trip already, dear?” she asked as they approached.
“Oh, I never made it! Ended up kidnapped by scoundrels and derailed my whole trip,” explained Araminta who was already examining the hodgepodge of items spying for her current quarry.
“Isn’t that just the way of things?” said the old woman with a world weary sigh. “Fell for the old dead man in the road trick, I bet. Gotta be wiser than that, girl! Might be safe in the villages where we look out for each other, but out on the roads they’ll be just as quick to rob you for all you’re worth and sell your skin too!”
Araminta nodded quite agreeably. “Lesson well learned. Thankfully, Theon came to fetch me.”
“Theon!” the old woman cackled so hard she started coughing. Waving off Araminta when the girl gave her a gentle pat on the back. “Oh my, what an unfortunate name. Doubt anyone’s dared to name a babe Theon since the Imperial Queen. Bet ya got people quaking in their boots for a second after every introduction!”
A linger of gaze remained upon her even after her initial I see. Almost waiting to see if she had more to say about his reply but found there was nothing there. Rather it appeared that she had her answer to whatever the deeper meaning was. So they could be tugged along to a little stall that held an archaic woman. Looking almost as if she were meant for dust rather than frail skin and bone.
Still he side stepped politely when it was apparently that Araminta also had a rapport with this elder woman. Keeping aside as not to interfere, while curiously noting the delicate care that went into the steadfast creation of the quilt. Hearing them but not particularly investing his ears into their conversation.
At least till there was the sound of his name, paired with a cackling laughter that turned into brittle coughing. A sort of twang hit at chest but relented a sort of acceptance to the elder’s amusement. She’d likely keel over if she knew that he was in fact one in the same Theon that she was making fun of.
Rather he bowed his head in a effort of polite formality. Shortly raising and looking away as not to interrupt further to their associated nature.
“Silent and brooding, eh?” commented the old lady at Theon’s expense. Not having a lick of offense to it at all. Though, because he was silent, now she was sitting up in her rocking chair, attention fully focused on the man idly standing there.
Araminta herself was busy perusing the tables until she finally spied with a delighted sound, that feathered quilled she mentioned to Theon prior. A simple thing with what was probably a goose feather (much to her joy now of imagining geese getting plucked). Finding ink was a little more difficult in the hodge podge of things scattered about, but she soon discovered a little vial of black that’d do her well enough.
“Do you have any stationary or parchment? Anything will do, but something finely made would be better,” Araminta asked, interrupting the elderly woman’s staring down of an unknown prince.
“Aye, aye, check down there in that little trunk,” she pointed out, grinning a toothless wide smile. “Going to be writing some love letters, sweetlings? You know what they say about these ginger men!”
Araminta knelt down by the trunk she was pointed towards, opening it up to rifle around inside. Only to pause and curiously blink at the woman.
“No? What do they say about ginger men?” she asked… and then, as that old lady’s smile grew wider, and wicked with delight at Araminta’s lack of understanding, the princess realized this was likely something quite filthy. All confirmed when the woman erupted into a new round of cackling laughter.
Araminta pretended she didn’t feel her face flushing, especially since she’d found exactly the sort of paper she needed. Showing the elder her acquired items, patiently listening for the price and then handing over the coin without a fuss about it.
“Do be safe on the roads, dears. Assume everyone you pass is a robber, they usually are.”
This did not sound like the best of advice to Araminta, seeing as not everyone traveling could be a robber, but she appreciated the care nonetheless. Bidding the elder woman a quick goodbye, before escaping with Theon to spare them both any more unsolicited commentary about ginger men. Of course now the question was in Araminta’s head – ginger men were known for what? For what! And knowing it was something filthy, she couldn’t very well ask with Theon there. A question to be answered another day.
Once they’d stepped far enough away Araminta took the time to stash away her new items.
“I don’t know enough about weapons, so I will defer the rest of this supply run to you,” she told him with a smile, even offered up her arm so that he could now do the leading her around the market.
If he wasn’t any wiser, he was guessing this old biddy was the mischievous sort. The type that humans usually talked about in the same vain as they would a witch. Just with more affection even if she was likely to grate on people’s nerves because it was clear she said what she wanted regardless of who wanted to hear it. Thankfully he was the silent type. For he offered her no swift rebuttal. Merely accepted her lengthy stare at him to where he was only separating his slightly wandering gaze back to Araminta. At her discovery of a ink pot. Asking next for stationary to likely use with her new find.
Interrupting the old maid to become something of a deviant in a manner of seconds. Sprouting something about ginger men. Which he wasn’t sure what was to be discussed at all. Or she was likely finding amusement that his head was a vivid red while being sure to tease once more. Guffawing shortly at Araminta’s blushing.
Yes, she was exactly the sort of crone that people complained about with their best intentions.
Another polite nod and they were leaving. Not about to waste his brain power on unraveling dirty riddles or anything in-between. Rather it seemed Araminta was putting her focus on a new task. Which he agreed to the means of knowing the weaponry but stared at her arm when it was offered at him. Lightly dropping brows at her next, “I do not follow.” He expressed clearly that he didn’t know what she was intending for him to do! Nor where to go either. “Is there something you need me to do?”
“Hmn,” the soft sound came out even when she was trying so hard not to let such amusements escape. Her arm might as well have been a snake too, for the way he eyed her in confusion! Gentlemanly qualities of a prince were definitely not the sort of knowledge he’d picked up, then. Only ever the follower to someone else’s demands. This would take practice in small steps.
Thus, she took the time to gently take his hand and arrange it just so with her arm so that he could now lead her where ever they were to go. It… honestly wasn’t so different from her holding onto his arm before, only he was meant to be giving the directions now. Not quite as intuitive with action alone, as she’d have hoped!
“…have you never visited this village before?” she realized then that too might be an issue. Can’t expect a man to do the leading when he didn’t know where he was going either! So she pointed down the street where the weapons smithies usually did their work.
“You’re in charge,” she explained. “We work together now, so sometimes you’re in charge, especially when there’s things you understand better than I do. Consider me your dutiful servant! I’ll stand by and look intimidating for you. ..or at least I will point in the right directions.”
With limb easy to manipulate to be much as they had been, he waited. Expecting her then to trudge off into the next direction with ease. Just that they were standing there and it seemed that Araminta’s clever mind was latching onto likely something valuable. To which, “No.” his reply came smoothly.
Certainly the hut was nearby but he had never a use or a need to come into the village at all. Anything prior he needed was either, gotten from the Imperial Castle. Or he went to get it himself from wherever things could provide. Weapons were castle, food was hunted, water was located from the creek and so forth. She had seen the hut prior, it was devoid of comforts or anything really useful that might make living easier.
And clearly he had no interactions with the locals for he was a gawk fest.
Save that her mouth moved next to issue a you’re in charge. Leaving him to look perplexed by this notion. Honestly, she might have had better success telling him that the sky was really orange rather than blue. Instead of insisting there was a means of being in charged. While making some nonsense spiel about being a dutiful servant. “You deemed me Ghost. Is that not far more suitable than this idea of splitting leadership, Araminta?” Theon quizzed. Being a figurative living dead was far more familiar than this idea of taking charge. “I am not familiar with this means of the village or its practices, people or venues of purchasing. If you need my knowledge of weaponry, I can provide but it is limited to here without the grasp of the direction of such places. I am… not what you might say, extroverted.”
“I am wise enough to know we need more than a Ghost if we’re going to be successful,” Araminta explained. Without being able to help herself she grinned wide, at least holding back that want to laugh. Extroverted he was not. He could count his lucky stars that she had no desire to force him into sudden socializing, too! It was an absolute painful royal duty to have to learn the art of social charisma! He even almost sounded exasperated with the way he said her name. Making it all the easier to smile.
Deciding this wasn’t the best time to tell him how funny he could be, Araminta did gently nudge them to start walking where they needed to go. However, she wasn’t about to drop this impromptu lesson, either!
“Consider it an opportunity to practice a new skill? You’ll be spending a lot more time visiting villages if you keep traveling with me. We may very well travel across all the twelve kingdoms if nothing out in the forest decides to eat me on the way there.”
While Araminta figured they’d be safer from assassins spending all their nights hiding in the woods, they would still have to pass through villages for supplies – and more importantly Araminta’s information gathering. Success in the trials was more likely if she knew what all the locals had to say about the places nearby. Not to mention as a Prince, Theon really needed to see what the actual people were doing. Not just the inside walls of a castle and his lonely hut.
He could have debated that. To the skin of his teeth, debated it. Though even he knew if he was about to start arguing with her about needing him to be more than the apparitional status, Theon understood he was likely to lose. While exposing a stronger discomfort that in his years of life, he didn’t really get this need or desire to be the needle of one’s own compass. Let alone, others. For them, he’d merely nod. Agreeing easily to her whims while finally she seemed willing to direct the motive forward to which way they needed to go for the means of acquiring that of a few items.
However, if he assumed her want to educate him much akin to the lowly knave status, it seemed it was hardly out of the question. Leaving him to be astutely observant while she pointed out this was apparently a lesson to be learnt. That they’d be entering the villages more often –which he wasn’t too sure why that was- till she mentioned the thought of the forest munching on her. “Doubtful.” A simple word held a lot to it. If she was referencing the fae forest to slumber in, she’d like be tricked to annoyance but unlikely to be eaten. After receiving the king fae’s blessing, it might not be in any other faeling’s best effort to gobble down a favoured person.
He’d let it slide away up till they approached that of a shop that smelt of burnt hay, metal and grease akin. Washed with dirty water only because tempering weapons was no clean work. Observing no sooner a man in the back portion of the weaponry shop that worked to make the items required as quite the opposite manned the front. Where man was evidently rippled from his work, the dame was meek and sleek. With bright honey brown eyes that seemed to look between them both. Uncertain to whom was to be lingered upon longer. Idly adjusting the wrap that kept her brown hair tied up beneath, she straightened.
It was currently unclear if this was either the daughter or the wife to the man in the back. Not that it mattered. “Ello’ what might I help you with?” She asked leaving it open ended as not to assume who was leading this charge.
Which apparently was him. And he felt a strong uneasy bundle in his stomach privately while outwardly keeping that bored cool. “Arrows and bow. Short being ideal, wood or bone if possible. New. Wax and string as well.” He knew how to retie that part so that was hardly a worry. He hadn’t lost an eye yet! “Twenty bodkin arrows if possible. Ten barbed and twenty broadheads.” Theon mentioned as casually as someone of his caliber could –ignoring the sort of look that the woman gave – “Then two small quivers. Preferably with a wooden cap to keep them stored.”
Her eyes flitted back and forth before frowning lips into a purse, “That’s quite the bit of material. You may not like the price.”
Theon didn’t seem phased by this. “How long?” Was his question. “To have ready?”
The woman paused as if surprised he wasn’t about to balk at an unspoken price. Shrewdly stealing at look to Araminta before pointing a thumb at him. “Where’d you find this one, eh? Not one to pause at a price mention but steers forward.” She smirked then. Though he personally didn’t seem to care about whatever schemes could be arranging themselves within petite head.
“How long?” Was what he asked again.
“Well,” Humming and hawing, tapping her chin, debating its length. “For that amount, it might take a day and night. We’d have to make the bodkin arrows, they aren’t usually the type of thing sold in a village such as this after all.”
Araminta had the sort of smile that one might have if they’d found the greatest of treasures in the world and they were just dying to tell you about it. For all of Theon’s worries, he really did know how to speak just fine. Clear and with intent. He just lacked a little… finesse! And who really needed all of that finesse as long as you were respectful and kind?
“I found him in a bog,” declared Araminta cheerfully with a half-truth. Technically it was Theon who did the finding, after all.
“A day and a night is a bit long, though…” she said then, pausing to think about the timing. There wasn’t any reason not to delay an extra day. They could fetch Araminta’s bag from it’s ditch of safe keeping, directly go seeking the white wolf after and then return home for a good night’s sleep for a fresh start in the morning. Yet, to linger too long in one place was also just as risky if her trials were more than just fetching tasks and now a hunt as well.
“Is it wise for us to wait?” she asked Theon directly with a soft touch to his elbow. “Or is it better to go on our fishing trip and come back for them when they’re ready?”
The woman grinned brilliantly with a fresh laugh that was deep and hearty at the whole found him in a bog comment. Sorting her hands on hips, “Seems like the sort that would be found there.” She replied seemingly unbothered that her comment alongside Araminta’s might cause offense. If it did, well he wasn’t showing it. Rather starting to come to understand that such replies at his expense were seemingly common. There appeared to be something worth mocking him about at every interval, so it was best to accept it at its face value now.
Taking stride that they at least did it to his face rather than behind, he supposed.
No less, veering attention drifted to the mention of the time being a bit long. Waiting without a hurrying hand or impatient tapping of foot for the princess of a former land to come to whatever decision she wished for. “It is your choice. The events will directly affect what benefits you, Araminta.” Of course he wasn’t about to decide for her!
“Well I don’t think you’ll have a choice, if you want the items. Unless you don’t want them then well the rest besides the bodkin stuff we have. Mostly. You might need to wait an hour or more for any straggler pieces.” He was starting to suspect this woman was the wife, seeing as she had a glint to her eye that was likely made for profit. “So what’s the choice going to be. Only then I can give you a price.”
Theon seemed to miss the point of her questioning, for which she ended up finding more endearing than frustrating. And while she could make an educated guess for the best answer (and the cheapest), Araminta wanted to be sure he could tell her what was actually necessary, and not just defer to her whims only because he was so used to following someone else’s orders.
“One moment please,” she gestured a finger to the lovely lady and tugged Theon gently to the side. Where she beckoned him to lean down with the wiggle of her finger so she could whisper to his ear directly.
“Theon, I have no idea what you’ve asked for,” she explained first with that soft whisper. “Is it only for hunting? Is it to keep us safe? You know the risks better than I. Both options seem the same to me, but I trust you tell me which is safer for us?”
Of course, Araminta couldn’t force him to make a decision at all, but she did try to implore him to understand with those dark green eyes of hers and that pointed expression, that this was where he had the expertise and she didn’t. As she certainly wasn’t about to start making foolish choices just to prove he needed to start making a few of his own. She wasn’t crazy!
Following after her excusal as to droop enough so she could use ear to whisper upon, he found himself slightly tipping head at her admitting she really had no idea what had been asked for. Giving it leverage of understanding to query what it was for. “Bodkin arrows are used for punching through armour. Heavy armour.” He stated for emphasis, “Those are to keep us safe. As I suspect whomever comes next will have proper armour. The others can also be used for safety but better for hunting.”
Replying earnestly, he did give her reply a longer think.
Debating over it a good thoughtful few moments before nodding. “It would be wise for us to have the bodkin arrows. It will act as a defense to deter those who may come wanting blood for at least a moment or more. Enough to regroup for either an ambush or a defensive attack.” Theon gave before hands opened in a soften gesture. “If you want to finish the trails though, time waits for no one. However… to delay them may also be wise. For whomever comes next may assume your tenacity is still strong and await you at the fourth or fifth. If there is delay, then they may grow impatient.” No one thus far had his unusual ability to be that uncomplaining. “I would advise we allow the time for the arrows to be crafted.”
Then he stole a look to the woman, “However, I believe she will attempt to up-sell services and materials at an astronomical rate. That, is not my forte. Twenty bodkin arrows, depending on their quality should be about two gold coins, the others together a fifty shillings to a few silver pieces. The bow hasn’t been shown but a bone one will be at least a hundred and some silver, if it is wood, less.” He did know a bit of this stuff, “If it is anymore than what I’m saying, it would be over expensed. The only way such things would be that expensive is if they were crafted by an Imperial weaponsmith and made from the upmost high quality materials that come with their own exorbitant price.”
Theon paused to look at her then. “That is what you wished to hear, correct?”
Araminta let out a slow breath of relief followed by such a pleased little smile. Were they not in the middle of conducting business she might’ve given him an encouraging kiss to the cheek. He was more than capable of handling these sorts of things – he could haggle too if he tried it himself, she bet. Once he could see past this controlled box he’d been in for all of his life, there would nothing Theon couldn’t do, Araminta was certain.
“I appreciate your advice,” she ended up saying with that proud smile, instead of assaulting him with too much excited encouragement. Though she had some concerned about fully armored people coming after the pair of them, she couldn’t be surprised either that it would eventually be the case. The smartest move they could make would be unpredictability.
With that in mind, it was a gentle return back to their current host, with Araminta resuming the role of in charge once again. Tapping her chin lightly with a finger as she considered Theon’s information.
“We can wait for everything to be made. But before you give me a price, would you consider a very worthwhile trade?” she asked, the idea coming to her in the moment and brightening up her features, “I know that some supplies are especially hard to come by. We’re going to visit the enchanted forest today for some foraging; if you need something we could bring it back for you? As long as it isn’t anything that will get me in trouble. I’d rather not come back as a jackalope!”
Cordially one bowed their head to the means that she appreciated his advice. Relieved it had been enough information to sway whatever it was her mission was with him. Though it was strange to have someone asking for his advice anyways. Usually it was give the information without any attachment to his own opinion.
Truly an oddity she was.
However he was hardly about to verbally combat that. Turning alongside to stand at the edge of her shoulder, interest bore to be adhered to the conversation next. Where the woman behind played idly with the cloth over hair as the ringing of hammer upon metal continued just behind. Her eyes narrowed ever so slightly in the means of mirth that they would wait. Knowing that their agreement to do so was a promise of good coin. Just it was short lived when the mention of a trade was brought up. Looking to interrupt save Araminta continued with her visage lightening to a hospitable hue. “The enchanted forest?” The woman replied with no containment to her suspicious awe. Making fingers dance along the slope of her neck with thought, now suddenly being given a chance to have something potentially very hard to come by rather than mere coin.
He could see her struggling between the idea. Going back and forth, before signalling just a moment. Evidently the idea was too enticing that she couldn’t resist speaking to the man in the back. The sound of work being halted for far too quiet whispers. Urging him then, “And if she asks for something outrageous?” Theon queried Araminta, “Do you have another idea in waiting?”
Araminta loved to see a family who made decisions together, and that her offer hadn’t been jumped upon by an ambitious soul looking to risk a confirmed sale in exchange for something impossibly valuable. Not that Araminta had any intentions of snatching something out of the enchanted forest that she shouldn’t be. Risking faerie ire would always be a bad move. Luckily there were plenty of things out in the forest that Araminta could get that wouldn’t offend their faerie friends.
“If the request is outrageous, then we will just have to pay the coin,” Araminta explained easily. Glad that he asked, in fact, as she was delighted to explain how the idea sprang about. Turning to Theon for conspiratorial whispers of their own.
“Most here won’t go into the enchanted forest. A brave or a foolish soul once in awhile, but none have the time or patience to risk the moodiness of the fae for they have so many other things to worry about. Since we’ll be there anyway, why not forage some useful things if it is not going to be a bother? Anything we can trade now will save us the money for places where they’ll only take the coin.”
Much like his need for the bodkin arrows themselves, Araminta too was thinking a few steps ahead. Their funds would not remain limitless for much longer. They’d have to be thrifty and smart about where and how the spending was done.
A gentle consideration of her words was noted. Nodded too to express he understood the reasoning and of course that they wouldn’t be trying to take say the horns off a enchanted buck’s head to get what they needed. Instead they would be smart and dare not to be so outlandish.
Save that Araminta proved that she was clever in the seconds next. Pointing out that the locals avoided or rather mostly avoided the forest as they didn’t dare risk the fables they heard. A wise choice. And thus far it seemed Araminta had earned favour enough to pass mostly unharmed into the copse herself. Minus that of a wily snake that had sought to nip at her fingers.
He understood her motive now. The reasoning behind it and the needs to be frugal instead of just leaving coin at any table. Easily he acquiescence to her superior foresight.
Much in time for the woman to return with a contemplate expression all the same. Raising her eyes to address to Araminta. “Glen stated that if you two can bring back any bit of enchanted dark oak wood, then that would be suitable. The best stuff is rumoured to be deep within the forest rather than the outskirts.” She stated with the sort of opinion that was clear they wouldn’t take the outskirt stuff anyways. “The more you bring, the more we will be willing to trade.” Suggesting that the deal could be expanded upon outside what had already been asked. “How’s that for a trade?”
“Dark oak,” repeated Araminta with some thought. Holding out her arms in a circle as if testing to see just how much of a bundle she could carry… and then turning to gently take Theon’s hands to test and see how much he could potentially carry. After a moment of pondering, Araminta nodded her head in agreement.
“We’ll do our best to find some good pieces,” affirmed the princess. “If we’re not jackalopes, you can expect us in the morning.”
While Araminta was certain that finding the wood could be very simple, she also knew her faerie friends did not quite understand the concept of time the same way humans did. There was a chance they’d have her playing music for days, if they could get away with it. So Araminta figured there was the chance they’d be late.
“Tell Glen thank you!” she cheerfully announced, giving the man in the back a friendly wave. A mutually beneficial trade for sure, but Araminta appreciated the opportunity all the same.
One couldn’t even imagine what her purpose was for making her arms so round. Or taking his own hands to test curiously whether to not they were capable of hauling anything at all. If they weren’t in front of another, he might have pointed out he did have the nokken ability. That if she wanted to find a lot, it would not be difficult to haul a load with the equine strength. Save he didn’t, merely compressing brows somewhat at her insistence of being turned into a jackalope.
He was pretty sure fae couldn’t do that but he also wasn’t about to question it either. Instead following Araminta when she claimed they would be back come morning and asked to say thank you to the smith in the back.
Earning a slow wave back from the woman, as they turned to walk away. Leaving him to think at length about the interaction. Eventually, “Is this how your kingdom worked? With commoners as you have been?”
Now that they weren’t going to immediately leave for the fourth trial, it meant their next few hours would be a leisurely day of walking. A lot of walking to be sure, but at a calm pleasurable pace that’d lack the urgency of needing to be somewhere. Better yet, Araminta was no longer by her lonesome self, which meant the time would fly by as she took the chance to get to know Theon better.
His question came as a surprise, first with a twist of knotted up sadness in her stomach to think about her home and what things were like there before. Yet he’d been comfortable enough to actually ask her a question instead of being his usual silent self, and Araminta felt that was such good progress, it was worth a little bit of the sadness to answer anything he wanted to know.
“Almost?” she answered with some thought. “I was not born the heir, so I was always meant to marry someone suitable and oversee a village much like this one. If I had chosen an outer village, it’d be my job to manage a village of knights to ensure the borders would be protected from invading rogues. If I chose a farming village, I would be sure that the land was worked well and that everyone under my care was well fed before sending surplus for trade.”
She shrugged her shoulders with that, curiously peering at him then.
“I always thought it important to actually meet and talk to the people you’re taking care of. That is the job of kings and queens and nobility; to pay attention to the little details and then see what can be done in the bigger picture.”
While his outside appearance and the rather unworldly control he possessed to refuse any emotion from every showcasing itself upon said exterior, he was hardly devoid of intrigue. Just typically he had only himself to ask questions too. Amongst the void of mind to query and see if he might be able to answer said question. In this case, when it came to the way Araminta interacted with mere common folk, he could not provide the reply.
To him, it was strange to even bother.
But that was highly unfair. He didn’t interact with nobles. Even when he was dressed up for some gala arranged by his mother to flaunt her impressive generosity, he barely spoke. Kept to the side and bothered not to even encourage a stray beam of spotlight. His mother was the Imperial Queen, the head of the twelve and the one that when she did anything, people noticed.
The question rose and she seemed to give it a lengthy pucker of consideration. Eventually pointing out that she was not the heir to her family but rather one that would eventually be wedded off likely for a political gain. To strengthen her family name and the one she was engaged too. Wedded too. In which she would need to know how to manage various activities. Examples being either knights to protect or trade agreements for the benefit of the farmers.
Most of that didn’t seem to make much of a reason in his skull. Merely finding the verdant rings staring at him. As if her next bit of logic was so important that he ought to pencil it down. To hear that her thought of what a job of a ruling monarch to be was to pay attention to the lower classes, details and such. Something neither of them had to mention was not in his mother’s wheelhouse. Not to say she didn’t pay attention, but she had others doing it for her. So he nodded as per usual. His way of expressing he understood now.
Turning features back away to look forward, a hand opening broadly. An open gesture that seemed to question if she was finished with her work here in the village or not.
Araminta was confident Theon would understand in time. Regardless of the way his mother treated him and behaved, there was no way she could live forever even if she were mad enough to try. One day Theon would find himself the King of the Twelve Kingdoms, and any good influence she could offer him would do him well in the future. If they lived long enough themselves, at any rate!
To his gesturing hand Araminta pondered their tasks of the day, then with a quick decision grabbed that hand to tug him along at a brisk pace. Following with a sniff of her nose in the air until she’d found an open stall serving up freshly made treats for everyone visiting the market for their daily errands.
This time no haggling needed to be involved, just Araminta’s quick smiling greetings and asking for a few items. First for a couple of treats to be wrapped up neatly and stashed into her bag for later. Then taking two savory smelling pastries in hand, one of which she gave directly to Theon. The entire exchange took moments at best, before she was contentedly ready to take his arm again for their walk out of town to fetch her waiting bag.
“It’s a chicken pie,” she declared, as if she’d found them the very best treat in the world. “There’s… chicken in it. I’m not sure what else? It is very good though.”
While Araminta could be fine with raspberries alone and let herself stretch food as long as humanly possible, Theon was a very tall man and she doubted he could keep up his stamina just on forest berries. She was going to have to be mindful about such things, and it was a welcome new worry to have.
It would seem there was still a few things on the agenda that required their presence within the little village. Although he wasn’t sure its purpose at first to find a stall that smelt of seasoned items and flaky pastry bottoms. Refusing to stall her tug to the location, he gave it a once over. To the people within that were serving without asking for payment and eventually the way Araminta effortlessly made friends with them.
Smiling and talking.
It was like a form of magic he had never seen before. Likely wouldn’t see again.
Just when he was starting to form a few thoughts of observation, she approached and gave something into his hand that warranted that same peculiar look. Giving it a tilt back and forth while arm was hooked to be made to walk once more.
A chicken pie. He’d never heard of something like this and there was a innate desire to offer it back to her. Knowing she was likely famished from the poorer meals she had been eating since well… he wasn’t sure when. Rations and dried items weren’t unfamiliar for him. When one travelled and worked as he had, they made the world an easy method of obtaining foods by the offering of nature itself. “It would be best if you kept it for yourself.” Theon offered them the item back to her. “It has not been I that has been left to fend for themselves for some time.” Then he looked at the ground momentarily, “Your generosity is starting to make me feel awkward anyways.”
“Is it generosity if I’m spending your money?” she asked, genuinely curious about it. Only to quickly shake her head and to gesture with her own tiny chicken pie in her hands, to show that she herself wasn’t planning on skipping a meal this time. Already suspecting if she didn’t do a thing first, he’d be unlikely to accept anything for himself if last night’s refusal to use the bedroll was any hint. Tricking people into accepting generosity likely wasn’t a very generous thing to do, but well… he’d be fed at least.
“It’s only food, Theon. I’m only making sure you have the energy to walk all day,” she explained, taking a bite of her own to prove that she was indeed going to eat while trying not to be so amused that he just openly admitted he felt awkward with such niceties. Well, for one, it wasn’t amusing, it was sad that something as simple as breakfast would have him feeling so! Just that the way he said things often had her tickled.
“Besides, you should be angry with me for adding an unnecessary side quest to our already busy to-do. You’ll be peering around every tree for danger and have arms full of sticks. Or mad about this entire mess I’ve gotten you in now, really.”
“Money is meant to be spent.” Matter of fact he was replying about such things. It didn’t matter to him if she spent it or not. He hadn’t and thus far she had put it to better work than it dangling around his waist like bait for bandits. Plus it had been given to her, so it was no longer a worry or a concern to what she made use of it for. Just that it was being used.
Although something told him that wasn’t the answer she was looking for. Idly noticing the way she was gesturing to her own item in hand before eventually nibbling on it. Only causing him to look at the one that still rested in his own grasp. Processing the means of energy to walk all day. Unsure if he had yet to prove that he was rather resilient anyways. That he’d made use of travelling day in, day out. Great distances and such. Wondering what did it matter if he was already accustomed to such things? But something told him not to speak for it might insight a lecture.
Simply appreciating the means that she was suggesting frivolous reasons for him to be upset. The very emotion practically useless, especially now! “I don’t see a reason to be angry for any of those reasons.” Authentically he gave her the reply, “No any reason. In case you seek one to find.” Cutting off any potential need for her to dig for something that had no business being found.
Rather he took particular care in pulling out that former handkerchief she replaced to wrap the pie in. To hold as he didn’t intend to eat it anyways. “I don’t eat in the mornings.” He offered her then a means of explanation. “I never have. But.. thank you. I suppose. For… attempting to think of my welfare even if it is unnecessary.”
Araminta gave him a dubious sort of look, a soft examining of his person trying to decipher if he were simply being stubborn again or if she should take him at his word. After a beat, she gave an affirming hum, deciding his reasoning was a perfectly acceptable excuse. If it wasn’t his habit, she wasn’t about to force feed him chicken pies just to feel accomplished!
“Alright, into he bag, then. Where you won’t be at risk of rogue geese taking your hand off just to steal it,” the comment was nothing serious, but it did appear that she had a grudge against all geese now. Araminta took the wrapped pie to tuck away with the other treats she’d planned to save for later, and then set her attentions to happily devouring her own. Wondering if he realized that she really wasn’t such a thoughtful thing when she was taking advantage of everything he had to offer. He wasn’t getting the good end of this accidental partnership and it really wasn’t fair.
Regardless of his insistence that there was nothing to be angry about. There was plenty to be mad about, even if he didn’t wish to direct it at her.
“Taking care of you isn’t unnecessary, you know,” she tried to explain. “But you’re welcome, anyway. We’re partners now and it’s just a thing that partners do.”
Handing her the item after the initial sensation of her anaylzing him, there was little else to say. Appreciating that she did not seek to batter him further with clucking motions and a insistence that it was better he just eat or do what she said. Which maybe was going against that sort of subservient behaviour or it was the simple fact that he didn’t really know what to do with her care. Finding it incredibly familiar. Uncomfortable. Treating it almost akin to trying to swat away swarming flies. It was truly inconsequential what she thought she was doing for him.
She had already come from a demon infested place from her own words. He had simply told her the truth that his mother wished for her head separated from that of her own body. There was little reason beyond that to care what came next on his part.
Still, it was apparent she was unlikely to quit. Appreciating that he was beyond good at keeping his emotions locked deep down and away from regular eyes.
However –and he meant this- her need to speak up about the means of his welfare was, quirky. Letting the rings of silver glimpse across her from eyes to nose to mouth and back –as if searching for something- before he pressed the scarred lips into a purse. “I am unfamiliar with what you are claiming. It sounds taxing.” No truer words would be expressed but then and there. “A waste of resources that are limited on your half to stretch further to include one that is content with little or nothing.” As much of a silent observer that he was, there were thoughts in his head. And would pop out, such as such a comment now.
“You may regret it in the end, Araminta. To waste efforts in such ways.” A cryptic way of expressing that he didn’t much care if he was worth the effort or not. Tilting chin forward, “I believe your bag should be ready. When you are ready to depart, I can assist and carry it.”
Araminta couldn’t help herself and she wound up laughing. Taxing! Taxing maybe on his gentle nerves, when he was not one used to someone like Araminta blathering day and night. He might as well have said having friends was icky and that her time was better spent attempting to charm more bog hags, rather than wasting it on him.
“I’m already attempting the impossible, I may as well waste my efforts while I’m at it.” she mused out loud, granting him a ridiculous wide smile. If anything, she was certain Theon was the one good thing she wasn’t wasting time with. Inevitably she’d end up killed in one of the trials, but she was quite glad he’d been the one sent as her witness… even if he was supposed to be an assassin.
As for her bag, she could be stubborn too. Araminta had chosen the knapsack specifically for the ease of straps to use as a backpack herself. Not wanting to get too used to his help, else she’d be in a mess when he finally realized he could escape this insanity and leave. So when they did finally come across her original bag, still hiding in the bushes where those scoundrels had tossed it, she kept them both. One on her back and the other over her shoulder.
…once she’d shaken all the ants and beetles out of the original and was certain none of her trial items had been stolen by the wildlife!
It wasn’t until they were well on their way to walking towards the enchanted forest, that Araminta realized the error of this decision. When she’d pulled out those sheets of stationary, her quill and the inkwell to work on her gift for the fae, and found that trying to balance all these things, bags, and walk at the same time wasn’t so easy.
Drawing the princess to pause with a sigh that was bordering on defeated.
“Maybe I will accept the assistance after all,” she admitted.
At this point in the day, he found her sound of laughter practically fitting. Guessing she was finding him to be a clown of some sort that was worth the efforts of cackling at. It seemed to be the theme if he were to go by how others in this town either gawped at him or were making comments towards him to see if he would shame in reply. Save that there was little for him to grow mortified at. If she thought him to be worth a mockery hoot, then that was for her to have.
Trying to instead move around the topic of her wasting efforts on his expense to suggesting he would carry the bag for her. Which apparently was given the silent treatment for she did not agree. Leaving them to walk in the familiar silence. Leaving himself to be tending to thoughts that were either focused or as airy as the breeze. Finding it almost trifling to walk by foot such a distance but also unique. As he could look around with such a slothful deliberation that any random thoughts that entered his skull were just as swift to leave. Studying their surroundings and paying heed to any potential ways that could be either problematic or solvable. Even till the discovery of pack was reclaimed with less insects within, they said no more.
Once more adjusting their momentum to that of the forest so she would be able to see what the white fae wolf required. Minus the means that Araminta was stopping trying to do some sort of dance perhaps. Looking a bit perplexing till her breath came out strong in a depth of sigh he was sure came from her toes.
Hands outstretched without a secondary thought. Without a need to question her change of mind. To tease her or point out that she was foolish for declining it till now. Merely looking at her expectantly to what she would like him to hold while she did her business of something besides squirmy wormy dancing.
It would’ve been easier if he had teased her, then Araminta wouldn’t have felt so bad about passing off her leather shoulder bag to him. It wasn’t his responsibility to be her beast of burden, anymore than any of his help should’ve been aimed at her. But if she fussed about it, Araminta just knew he’d use that stubbornness on her later and refuse to do something necessary like eat a proper meal or sleep in a proper bed.
For the moment, her gift for the fae was more important than this silly battle they were having. Once he’d had her bag situated, she then passed him the inkwell to hold for her too. As one couldn’t scrawl on paper and hold ink and walk all at once. She could scrawl and walk, that was enough.
“I’ll take it back as soon as I am finished,” she explained. Already drawing out little dots and lines akin to little ladles and rain drops. Seeming to at least know exactly what she was doing, even if the means of how she was doing it was a silly way to go about it. Ever so often she’d pause her scribbles to hum a few notes and reach to dip the quill in the ink, then it was right back to her scribbles again.
Shuffling the items about so they were manageable to be held, packed or what have you; he did look at the paper she was currently scribbling upon. Not sure what to make of it, even as they walked. As if staring would somehow reveal its greater plan till she mentioned she was going to take back the items after. Mentally he already reserved to ignore her for such things. But he wouldn’t say that outloud.
Rather, “You are artistic then?” He asked unprovoked. “First you played that… thing?” he didn’t know the name of it, “Then you are now drawing.” Theon referenced if she wasn’t sure what he was talking about with a chin tip at her scribbles. “Is… such things necessary or common as well for a princess of another kingdom.” He was interested in learning funnily enough, just he had to be in the right mental state to probe out a question.
“Oh, drawing, that is a good idea!” Araminta hadn’t even considered embellishments. Now that the thought was there, she added a few quick swoops of birds and little doodles of pretty flowers and butterflies to the margins.
Then she stopped, glancing at him with renewed interest towards his new question. Unsure which part surprised her more. That he didn’t know what her instrument was, or that he’d initiated the conversation in the first place.
“It’s a lyre,” she explained. “A tiny hand held harp. And this,” she finally held out the paper for him to get a full look. “This isn’t art… well. A kind of art! These are music notes for a song. If they’re missing my music so much, then I may as well leave them a song they can play without me.”
As for the rest of his question, this bid her to pause, not so much because she needed to collect her thoughts to properly answer but that… it almost felt like a completely different life. A dream that she’d had a long time ago, or a story that someone told her. Rather than what her life actually used to be. Araminta had to shake off that lingering sense of sorrow to take a deep a breath, to continue both their walking and her scribbling.
“I’m not sure if it’s common practice for any princess. But it’s what I used to do before. It’s my favorite thing? There are riders and hunters and gardeners and I write music. Now I think I ought to have chosen a more useful hobby. Like throwing knives or falconing.”
Brows gently pressed to another as she declared that drawing was a good idea. Apparently that hadn’t been what she was doing. And now with the idea in place, it had become part of it. Starting to wonder what use any fae was going to have with the scribbled upon parchment paper. To his untrained eye, it was simple scrap. Perhaps to a faeling, they would see a deeper value to it. As they likely had a better understanding of the gift in its totality.
If he was about to ask something further, the way she looked at him was enough to shut his mouth. Debating whether he should have spoken at all. Searching if there was a fracture in his question previously or a insult that had not meant to be. Finding nothing to his mental eye but rather her pointing out that her instrument was called a lyre.
He heard of them, never seen them. Music was for those who participated in dance and balls. Which seemed to only expand that her scribbled note was music. Leaving him to glance at it with no fathoming of its scratching runs. Listening to her explain that she was thinking of leaving them a song they could play. “What if they do not read?” Theon asked, seeing as he couldn’t tell what any part of it was. Were fae more decisive and educated when it came to articulating the spots and dots and bars on the page.
Just in a turn over continuing, Araminta pointed out that she liked to write music. And evidently play it from what he heard from the night where she was entertaining many. “Useful hobby? Was it not useful before and bring you joy?” The man asked innocently, “Would you knowing how to throw a knife or command a falcon have helped you any more now than any skill you do have?”
Oh no! What if they couldn’t read music! That’d be a terrible faux pas indeed, to hand the fae sheet music and then having not a single one know what to do with it. Reason quickly followed though, easing that sudden panic in her chest. The fae were all ancient things, and if one didn’t care to read music there had to be another who did. They certainly appreciated it enough to hold her hostage in the forest, there had to be at least one that’d be able to read it and then play it.
This she didn’t counter, as he’d point blanked asked her if her music had not given her joy! Finding herself blinking at him with green eyes mystified and so confused as to how this man could be so considerate to understand these were important things to people, and yet somehow himself had a hut full of nothing and didn’t seem to think of his own?
“I suppose it helped me not get crushed by stone golems…” she did admit. There wasn’t denying the truth in that. One single thing it was useful for compared to her severe lack of skill in everything else.
“Joy is also useful, I hadn’t thought of that.” Araminta continued, shifting her gaze on him a bit, curiously trying to figure out some new puzzle about him. “What brings you joy when you need it?”
There needed to be no words to say any affect that her music had come in handy. She seemed to come to the revelation well on her own. Mentioning how it had stopped her from being mashed into the ground by those of the stony titan style variety. Doubtful it would have been if she was able to throw knives, to have the same calming effect. Rather the opposite. The golems likely would have been further enraged. Using her as a makeshift ball to toss around after they assured she was turned into a jelly bag once bones were sufficiently broken.
The same if she had a falcon. Either the bird would have attacked or it would have had its one self preservation in mind. Leaving her to be without its aid.
Thus far Araminta had proven that aggression was not the answer to every problem. It was not a solution.
Yet she did that thing after coming to understand her own uses, to then turn it at him. Warranting a series of concentrated blinking. Trying to search his thoughts for anything… anything at all that brought him a sense of joy. Finding that no matter what figurative stone he turned in thoughts, nothing came of it. “Nothing.” His authentic reply was of pure honesty. He had nothing that could be mentioned that brought him even a sliver of joy. He couldn’t even muster a half decent recollection of a memory that warmed even a cockle of his heart. It was just… devoid.
“Hmm,” the sound made through his throat, “I suppose that is depressing.” Assuming it was, not saying it was for him. “The fae… they were entranced by your lyre. Your playing. At least.”
Nothing. Well, what sort of answer could one expect from a man who likely hadn’t experienced any joy in his life ever. How could he recognize something pleasant when he’d never had it before! It made her furious all over again with nowhere constructive she could presently aim it.
Nor could Araminta plop him somewhere and demand he have fun. He’d think she was trying to torture him!
He mentioned the fae being entranced, though, and that was enough to keep her rooted in the present. Scribbling down the title of Araminta’s Aria at the top with a few embellishments, before gently waving her hand over the paper to be sure the ink dried.
“It entranced them, but not you. So it seems I have some practicing still yet to do,” she muttered, shooting him a wide smile. Not a hint of her being pitying, as she’d just have to accept that he was raised by a devil and it could not be helped. Her pity wasn’t going to be helpful at all. What he needed was her time and some opportunities to just live a life.
“I am only half fae.” A gentle reminder that his blood was half a creature of magic and fables. Then the rest from a woman that was a prodigal mage with her own right taste for terror and torture. To expect him to appreciate anything of the strumming value was likely too much to do. Of course he had been in awe that once again the woman walking alongside had proven her brilliance without looking to harm anyone. She charmed a grove of notorious tricksters and managed to summon a king to bestow her a gift that other’s likely would never see. “And perhaps tone deaf.” Theon added on to suggest that his lack of positive reception to her music might be associated with not knowing a difference between a good melody and a tune in a bucket.
“I do not know what practicing will achieve. You’ve beguiled the King of the Fae, that ought to be tenfold reward. No other from my knowledge has accomplished that.” Brows cinched somewhat, “It seemed to have upset the Imperial Queen as well when I told her that.” Recalling the detail, “I surmise it is because the fae hate her, so she would never have a chance to do the impossible as you have. Nor myself. The fae are naturally weary of one who is tainted blood.”
Shoulders gave a sluggish shrug. “You’ve proven to be beyond expectation.”
That was quite the stunning compliment, to be called beyond expectation by a man who had the entire world at his fingertips if he ever decided he wanted it. Leaving Araminta flushing a frustrating bright pink and wondering how making a bunch of silly fae sleepy with music was even remotely remarkable!
Though she could see how the Imperial Queen would take it as some sort of terrible threat to know that Araminta had met a fae king. A powerful woman that was already paranoid and upset with Araminta from just a single meeting, to then know that same girl was casually strumming music for a King outside of her reach. Easy to come up with all kinds of conspiracies about Araminta’s conniving, manipulative behaviors inciting rebellion and forming armies.
Instead of the reality that there was nothing particularly special about Araminta. She was just trying to get through these stupid trials in one piece.
Not that she wasn’t tempted when he said such extraordinary things to her.
“I wouldn’t call you half fae, regardless. You are all Theon and not tainted in the slightest. Something unique of your own.”
Rolling up her sheets of music, Araminta moved to fetch some of the left over gold string from the pack he carried. Tying her gift up nicely before stashing it and the quill inside. Then she took the inkwell from his hand to cork up tight and stashed it away too. With every intention of taking her bag back by reaching for the strap.
Certainly he had noticed how her cheeks flared to a softened hue but for the life of him, he couldn’t fathom as to why they had. What part had settled to make her blush at all. Not that it was revealed and he was in no business of asking about it. Teasing about it. Merely leaving it as is while they walked those added feet till she seemed finished that of her written piece.
Just that what she decided to lend her voice too was probably not something that needed commentary upon. Mostly because semantics were at play here. Listening and strongly disagreeing mentally. The fae were wary of him already and he was certainly tainted in those eyes because his blood was half of a mad queen’s. He was half of both worlds and fit in neither place. It was suitable as it was.
To call it unique, sounded as if she were trying to placid a child. Maybe she was.
For now with the sound of paper being rolled and neatly bound as a gift; the inkpot was taken back. Wound up and shortly stashed away to avoid it spilling to darken everything it could into a blacken smudge. Just of course when he noticed her making the motion to take the bag back, he held rather fast to his silent conviction of not allowing her to waste the effort of carrying it. Lifting it higher as gradually as he could to keep it out of reach. Saying nothing about his little motions but evidently doing what he had too to avoid her snatching it.
She could have it back later. Right now, she didn’t need to fuss about such items.
Araminta hadn’t realized what he was doing at first, until he was holding it far enough out of her reach that it was bordering on the ridiculous. Still, she tried a few times to snatch it back anyway even with a hop or two until she breathed out a soft frustrated Theon then relented with that defeated sigh. This was so unbelievably silly and she couldn’t believe he could keep such a straight face!
Still, she let him win this battle. If only because she didn’t want to risk jumping on him and giving him some new slashing injury.
From then on she didn’t make any further fussing, simply enjoyed their leisurely walk for what it was. Something quiet and peaceful and perfectly enjoyable, at least for Araminta. Ever so often she’d snack on the leftover raspberries in her pocket, pausing to admire a particularly boisterous bird or a pretty clump of flowers along the side of the road.