[center][h3][b]Serenity[/b] & [b][color=b5a0d2]Steffen[/color][/b][/h3][/center][hr] [hider=] Like usual, a warm summer morning was to be spent in the flowerbed that lined the Candaeln courtyard. The soft fragrance lingering in the still misty air, the melodic chirping birds and silent sight of butterflies. It was best enjoyed alone. The Ingvarr quietly strolled up and down the garden that he (mostly) maintained, quietly admiring the life that sparked in this often ignored corner of the castle, but also on alert for any dangerous invaders that threatened its tranquil bloom. [color=b5a0d2]”And there it is.”[/color] Garden weeds. Taking everyone’s nutrients and harboring dangerous poison and even diseases for the humans too. And yet they’re everywhere. Steffen stopped by the patch of dirt containing those pesky grass and, with his immense strength, pulled the grass out completely to its deeply seated root. Amidst the smell of damp dirt and grass, of flowers and dew, there was another scent mixed in. A pungent smell, sharp and oily. The smell of paint. The courtyard was best enjoyed alone, but on this morning, there were two present in this little-visited portion of Candaeln. Serenity, dressed in drab blacks and grays that did well to hide the flecks of errant colors upon them, stood before a canvas. A palette in her left, a brush in her right. Paused, midstroke. She nodded towards Steffen, once. [b]“Good morning, Sir Steffen.”[/b] Poking his head up from the flowerbed just in time to see the gesture, a smile was given. [color=b5a0d2]”Good morning!”[/color] The Ingvarr waved, before realizing he was holding a patch of grass and dirt. He promptly tossed that into a nearby bucket. [color=b5a0d2]”I hope I’m not ruining the view. Terribly sorry about this mess.”[/color] Steffen dusted off dirt from his hands as much as he could before heading over to Serenity, curious to what she was doing. It was already rare to be seeing her outside of the training yard or the library, not to mention her more laxing outfit too. [b]“No,”[/b] Serenity shook her head as she set her brush down. [b]“Though I hadn’t expected you to be the one doing this, in the stead of the gardener.”[/b] [color=b5a0d2]”Ah, well.”[/color] It was technically not his job. [color=b5a0d2]”I just like doing garden work, so I offered to help. Our gardener is also double-timing as a chef, so any help is nice I guess.”[/color] Steffen looked at the painting Serenity was working on. [color=b5a0d2]”That looks pretty good. I also didn’t expect you to be out here with the canvas so early. Part of your knight training or?”[/color] Strange, that. They had a good amount of servants working around the castle, and yet one of them performed two roles? One could expect a shortage of knights after the War of the Red Flags, but the castle’s non-military occupants hadn’t reason to step on the field. To be lacking here… Well. Not that Candaeln was [i]her[/i] castle. [b]“It’s rudimentary,”[/b] Serenity replied. [b]“And yes, this is training. Half of martial arts is the arts. Do you not garden for similar reasons?”[/b] [color=b5a0d2]”...yeah…no? It is art indeed, but I’m not really doing it for the purpose of knight training.”[/color] Steffen glanced briefly back at the flowerbed, his arms folded. [color=b5a0d2]”I just like it. It’s so peaceful to just sit down, contemplate, reflect…you know. Helps to get your head straight sometimes.”[/color] [b]“Hm.”[/b] She neither agreed nor disagreed. If one wanted peace in the current state of Thaln, one didn’t have to go so far. The very reason why they could be stationed in Candaeln and live at their leisure was because there was no war, only miscreant conspirators and lawless ruffians. [b]“Where did you learn to do this?”[/b] [color=b5a0d2]”Not where exactly. I taught myself most of them.”[/color] Steffen said, his sentiment instinctively getting a bit ahead of his usual word consideration. [color=b5a0d2]”My mom liked to do this, and when I was younger I liked to observe her. So I kinda just picked it up naturally when I got to it myself. The rest is up to experience and my own creativity, I suppose.”[/color] No books, no tutors, it was simply just keen observance, a bit of passion and a respectable number of hours put into it. [color=b5a0d2]”How about you? Does anyone teach you this or you learn it yourself?”[/color] [b]“Passion and dedication.”[/b] That was admirable of Steffen, certainly. There were no diamonds in the rough that could be polished without external help, but while some benefited from the guidance of craftsmen, others were polished through their own efforts, tumbling through the world. [b]“As with everything I know, a master lays the foundation, and my efforts build up the rest. Though there is certainly [i]nothing[/i] natural about this.”[/b] She gestured towards her work once more. At a distance, at a glance, it was a serviceable painting, but upon further inspection, there was a void of something. It was art that captured an instance, but that instance lacked any particular meaning. The garden before her was a garden bathed in morning. And thus, she painted the garden, bathed in morning. [color=b5a0d2]”Hmm.”[/color] He tilted his head slightly. Just from his pure artistic sense, reading into Serenity’s brushstroke like a small glimpse into her mindset. [color=b5a0d2]”I…yeah.”[/color] Wrinkles appeared on his forehead. He wasn’t sure how to put it, not only succinctly but also not to make Serenity upset about it. [color=b5a0d2]”It feels a bit ordinary.”[/color] It’s not that the art lacked or even needed an inherent sense of meaning, but it’s that it felt that this was anyone’s painting with hours of practice, not Serenity’s. If that’s her goal to just be able to capture the instance of her memories, then sure, but judging from her tone, she might be unsatisfied with the progress. [color=b5a0d2]”But I can see your hard work. If you don’t mind, I can try, like, adding a bit of advice?”[/color] [b]“I do mind.”[/b] A brusque response, but not an unexpected one when coming from Serenity. She was quick to offer help, but rarely asked for help. And then, there was… [b]“If it looks like what you see, then it’s as I intended.”[/b] A contradiction, mayhaps, upon her emphasis of [i]art[/i] just moments before. [color=b5a0d2]”Oh…”[/color] Steffen didn’t expect that. He felt a little hurt hearing it but reminded himself it was just Serenity. She always had that uptight element to her, maybe a little too inside of a box. [color=b5a0d2]”Alright, alright, I’ll chill.”[/color] He said. [color=b5a0d2]”Do you intend to go anywhere or do anything with the painting? Or is it just practice?”[/color] [b]“Do you in-”[/b] She frowned. Then smiled. A thin smile. A slight shake of her head, as if shaking off bad habits, worse preconceptions. [b]“It’s observation. There is more that an artist can see than a common man, whether at a glance or with greater study. As such, it is a useful trait to obtain.”[/b] Now, she [i]had[/i] answered him, so [i]now[/i] she can ask him in return. [b]“But, Steffen. Do you intend to go anywhere or do anything with this garden?”[/b] [color=b5a0d2]”Well, do you like how it looks?”[/color] Steffen asked, a more tender smile appeared. [color=b5a0d2]”If you spend a quiet afternoon or a lunch break here, would you like it?”[/color] She took a second longer than her posture would’ve implied, swallowing the words that came most naturally. Neither of them were close enough for the behavior that she exhibited with other knights. There was a cleanliness to Steffen that was different from the ardent zeal of Gerard. [b]“I like it. Though I question why you’d think I was here, if I didn’t like it.”[/b] [color=b5a0d2]”Well…”[/color] Steffen leaned his head left and right, his words too jumbled in his head to come out immediately. [color=b5a0d2]”It’s just to be sure I guess. I don’t doubt your enjoyment here.”[/color] [color=b5a0d2]”But yeah, if so, I’m glad. That’s what I want to do with the garden.”[/color] He glanced back at the flowers, the plants that were blooming and prospering under his care. It was like his own child. [color=b5a0d2]”For your and everybody else’s enjoyment at any time.”[/color] [color=b5a0d2]”Does that sound good for intent?”[/color] The Ingvarr’s palm covered his other hand, placed in front of his chest as he asked. It was not out of purview for who Steffen is, but one might still find it comical: a gigantic warrior from the north, looking reserved, demure. Serenity raised a brow. [b]“If I say no, would you stop?”[/b] She picked up her brush once more, guiding it over the rays of light cresting over the ramparts of the keep. [b]“Don’t ask for approval if it’s [i]your[/i] answer. And if it isn’t your answer, don’t speak as if it is.”[/b] [color=b5a0d2]”It is, it is, don’t worry.”[/color] Ever so serious Serenity... [color=b5a0d2]”Sure, I’ll take up on that advice.”[/color] He didn’t want to aggravate her further. The response felt a bit instinctual, as if this was not the first time he had heard of it. It was best that he just maintained his cordiality rather than pushing back. At least for now. Silence fell after. They were stubborn in their own way, set in their ways either by nature or conviction. Gradually, Steffen peeled away from Serenity, attending to the garden once more, while the lady herself remained where she was: back straight, eyes focused, brush moving forcefully, purposefully. And thus, time passed, in this silence neither comfortable nor hostile, the sun rising higher, the insects roused by the warmth of day, the vibrance of life granted further vivacity by Reon’s blessings. Serenity stopped. The shadow she cast was one that only remained beneath her. She set her brushes down, rose from her seat, collapsed her easel, and wrapped up her palette. Three examinations to check the dryness of the paint, thirteen steps to bridge the distance between her and the Ingvarr. [b]“Do with it as you wish.”[/b] In a garden bathed in morning light, there was the suggestion of an individual amidst pastoral scenery. A study that began in observation and ended in motion. And without pause, the knight with flaxen hair left, heading into the shade of corridors and stonework. Holding the painting by the back, not letting his dirt-covered hand ruin the knight’s dedication, Steffen gave a little smirk. [color=b5a0d2]”Nothing natural, huh?”[/color] Eventually, a painting ornamented Steffen’s office. An otherwise average painting, but nonetheless appreciated. [/hider]