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Alorha didn’t pull away from him straight away, her hand still resting lightly against his arm as she watched his expression soften, the last of that tight, uncertain tension easing out of his shoulders. There was something about the way he spoke—half casual, half careful—that made her chest feel warm in a way she hadn’t quite expected, and her smile lingered, easy and genuine as she followed his glance toward the wall. “So you’ve been planning this since then…” she murmured, her tone softer now, threaded with quiet amusement as she shook her head just slightly. “And you didn’t say a word.” Her eyes flicked back to him, bright with something almost fond. “I really do need to be careful what I tell you. You take things very seriously.” At his comment about it being a hobby, she laughed again—lighter this time, more relaxed than she had been all day. “If this is a hobby, I’m not sure I’m qualified to keep up,” she replied, her voice warm and teasing, though there was genuine admiration beneath it. She glanced back at the wall again, her gaze tracing the vines, the small pots, the beginnings of something that would grow over time rather than remain static. It felt alive in a way the rest of the castle never had. When he spoke more quietly, though—about old habits, about how things used to be—her expression softened again, the playfulness settling into something steadier. She didn’t interrupt him, didn’t try to brush it away, just stayed close, her presence calm and grounding. “You don’t have to unlearn it all at once,” she said gently after a moment, her voice low but certain. “You’re allowed to take your time with that.” Her fingers shifted slightly against his sleeve, a small, reassuring motion before she let her hand fall away, though she didn’t step back. The mood didn’t stay heavy for long. It never seemed to with them. When she noticed the window boxes again, the excitement returned just as quickly, her eyes lighting up as she moved toward them, brushing her fingers lightly along the edge of one. “You really thought this through,” she said, half to herself, half to him, her tone full of quiet delight. “We could grow herbs here—things we actually use. Or flowers… something that spills over the edge when it grows.” She glanced back at him over her shoulder, smile widening. “Strawberries, definitely strawberries.” His idea about covering them in winter only seemed to encourage her further, and she nodded quickly, already thinking ahead. “We’ll figure something out,” she said, almost decisively. “Glass, or even layered cloth for now if we have to… something to keep the frost off.” She paused, considering it, then laughed softly. “Look at us. Planning seasons ahead like we’ve always lived here.” The thought lingered just long enough to feel strange—and then she let it go, turning back toward him fully, that same warm energy settling back into place. “You did more than make the room nicer,” she added, her voice softer again, more sincere. “You made it feel like somewhere we can actually be.” For a moment, she just looked at him, really looked, before her expression brightened again, a spark of that earlier playfulness returning. “And now,” she continued, folding her arms loosely as she leaned back against the table, “you’ve set a very dangerous precedent. I’m going to start expecting creative surprises.” She didn’t give him much time to dwell on that, though. The day was still moving, and so were they. She glanced toward the door, then back to him, her tone shifting just slightly—still light, but with purpose now. “You said lunch, didn’t you?” she prompted, a small smile tugging at her lips. “Before the next meeting tries to steal the rest of the day.” There was a brief pause, her gaze flicking once more to the wall, the windows, the quiet transformation of the space around them—something grounding, something theirs—before she pushed gently off the table and straightened. “And after that,” she added, a little more thoughtfully now, “we can go out to the gardens. Properly this time. I think we’ve earned it.” The nerves from earlier hadn’t vanished entirely—she could still feel them, faint and lingering in the background—but they weren’t overwhelming anymore. Not when she stood here, in a space that felt warmer than the rest of the castle, with someone who made it feel that way. |
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Sage had nodded in response to her comment, humming in a soft kind of agreement. "Yeah," he noted with a sort of smile. "It's....been a work in progress, kind of," he added with a small chuckle. At her comment about him though, he threw her an amused look, shaking his head slightly. "I'm not sure there's much else I can do in here that would be very serious," he mused, amusement threading through his voice. Though, when she mentioned not being qualified to keep up with it all, he hummed with a shrug. "Well, you've got help," he noted with a grin. "Besides, most of these plants don't need too much help from us to grow. They'll take over whether we wanted them to or not," he added, casting a glance over at the bean plants on the wall. His expression softened as she spoke about not needing to unlearn things quickly. That it was alright to feel this way. "I know," he noted softly. "It's ....been getting better since you came," he added, shifting to slide the boxes of art supplies back into their place in the corner. He sat down on the edge of the bed, folding his arms casually then, as she mentioned something to do with the window boxes. "You are queen," he pointed out. "You can ask for glass and stuff to make lids for them," he pointed out, laughter glittering in his eyes. "I'm holding you to the strawberries," he added, clearly teasing a little. "Those are good." They were probably one of his favorite fruits, actually, the more he thought about it. At her comment about having always lived here, he snickered softly. "Well. I practically have," he noted with a grin before getting up and off the bed to get ready to go grab their lunch. He nodded at her comment about the meal, humming lightly. "I told the cook you wanted it to go today," he noted. "We can relax in the gardens and eat if you want," he added lightly before slipping out the door. It didn't take long for him to get lunch, which aid been carefully packed into a basket, and then move back to the room and grab Alorha. He took a deep breath of fresh air as they exited the castle, laughing quietly to himself with a grin as his feet touched the grass. He still wasn't used to this ...but he definitely liked it. |
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(I'm so sorry, I completely forgot about this!) Alorha laughed softly at the sheer delight on Sage’s face the moment his boots touched the grass, the sound warm and easy as she followed him down the garden path. “You really are becoming impossible to keep inside,” she teased lightly, though there was affection woven through every word. The basket swung gently from her hand as they walked, sunlight spilling across the stone paths and catching in the loose strands of her hair. The weather had shifted warmer by midday, carrying the scent of flowers and fresh greenery through the gardens in a way that made the castle already feel very far away. Honestly, she preferred it that way. The meetings that morning had gone well enough, but they had still left that lingering tension sitting beneath her ribs. More discussions about routes, supply counts, northern preparations, letters that needed responding to. People spoke to her more naturally now than they had when she first arrived, but that almost made it worse in some ways. Before, their uncertainty had been obvious. Now they expected things from her. Opinions. Decisions. Confidence. Every time one of the older nobles looked toward her expectantly across the table, she still had that brief moment of panic where she was certain someone would realize she had no idea what she was doing. But then she would answer anyway. And somehow the world kept moving afterward. It still felt strange. The gardens helped quiet all of that noise in her head. So did Sage. She glanced over at him as they walked, watching the way his shoulders seemed looser outside the castle walls, the way he kept looking around like he still couldn’t quite believe he was allowed to simply exist out here without someone dragging him back inside. It tugged at something soft in her chest every time she noticed it. “You know,” she said conversationally as they wandered deeper into the gardens, “I think the council might start regretting teaching me things.” Her grin widened slightly. “At first I was terrified to speak during meetings, and now I keep accidentally having opinions.” There was a brightness to her voice again now, lighter than it had been earlier that morning while she’d sat stiffly at the long council table trying not to overthink every word coming out of her mouth. Out here, away from all the carved wood and heavy chandeliers and noble stares, she felt more like herself again. Or at least closer to it. She eventually guided them toward a quieter section of the gardens near the hedges, where a large tree cast dappled shade over a patch of soft grass. “Here,” she announced happily, setting the basket down before lowering herself to the ground beneath the tree. The breeze stirred the branches overhead gently, sunlight flickering through the leaves in shifting patterns across the grass and across Sage as he sat nearby. For a moment she simply breathed. It felt nice. Really nice. Her gaze drifted toward the castle in the distance, visible beyond the gardens through gaps in the trees. The towering stone structure no longer looked quite as suffocating as it had when she first arrived, though it still carried that looming feeling sometimes. But now there were pieces of it beginning to feel different. Their room no longer felt cold and lifeless. The open windows let sunlight and fresh air spill through the space. The vines climbed along the accent wall now, slowly beginning to curl around the hooks Sage had so carefully placed there. Little signs of life were appearing everywhere. Little signs of them. “I still can’t believe you made all of that while I was gone,” she admitted suddenly, glancing back at him with a soft laugh. “The wall. The pots. The window boxes.” Her smile softened into something gentler then. “I don’t think anyone’s ever done something like that for me before.” She tucked one leg beneath herself as she opened the basket, beginning to unpack the lunch the kitchens had prepared for them. Bread, fruit, little pastries, sliced meats and cheeses carefully wrapped in cloth so they would travel properly. Far more food than either of them probably needed. “The cooks definitely think we’re feeding an army,” she murmured with amusement. Then, after a moment, she looked back over at him again, her expression brightening mischievously. “Also, I’ve decided something.” There was immediate danger in the tone alone. “If we’re planting strawberries in those window boxes eventually, then we’re absolutely stealing some mint from the gardens too.” Her grin widened. “Because apparently queens can request glass greenhouses now, and I think that means I deserve strawberry mint tea whenever I want.” |
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(it's all good, lol. I've been at my grandma's and her wifi is awful so it took me a bit to get back on but we can definitely continue it!) Sage had moved through the lawn happily, gaze drifting excitedly around, just taking in all the details about the gardens that he could. It still felt like he knew nothing about it. About life outside the castle walls. But he did know he liked it out here, and honestly that was all he needed as of right now. He was more than content to just move alongside Alorha until she found a place she wanted to eat at. He chuckled lightly at her tease, glancing over at her with a grin. "You're the instigator for all this," he teased right back, knowing that if she'd never suggested going outside and encouraging him to do so initially, he would have stayed cooped up inside the castle permanently. He might not even have had the courage to open up the windows in the bedroom or anything. It was a thought that unsettled him, more than he'd really like to admit. As she continued to speak, and brought up her accidental opinions, as she put it, he couldn't help but laugh again with a small shake of his head. "Everyone in that room has opinions they think are the most important ones in the room," he noted with a snort. "Someone's gotta keep them under control," he added with a grin and a wink. "Though I have to admit I'm glad you're the one making the decisions and not them," he noted, voice slightly more serious by then. She was in charge, which meant he was safe....and that was important, he supposed. He nodded when she pointed out the spot she wanted to eat at, shifting his direction towards the patch of grass her finger was pointing towards. He set the basket down beside them, letting her peer through it to find what all she wanted. At her comment, he simply immediately softly, a slightly sheepish grin appearing on his face. "I've been making things on and off ever since we found the art supplies," he admitted. "I just had to put everything in there," he added. He nudged her slightly then, grin turning more mischievous. "Besides, it was easy to get you out of the room when I needed you to go," he added, clearly just teasing her a little bit. At her next comment though, he cocked his head slightly, a little curious. "Really," he asked. "I mean ...you're the type of person I imagine who people would want to give you the world, if they could," he noted. At least, that's how he felt. He'd do anything for her. At her comment about the cooks though, he laughed again and nodded. "That's alright, we have snacks for later if we don't eat it all," he noted. When she mentioned the tea, he hummed slightly in thought. "That does sound good," he mused. He'd never had it, but if they made it he would definitely need to try it. "We can steal some while we're out here," he added with a small giggle. "They've got plenty, I'm sure." |
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Warming, with Sleet and Heavy Icing
