ravenDivinity

When the Flames Die

Gareth brought his left hand to his chin, and he released his grip on Sophia's hand. "Hm... I... I normally eat real food before I partake in sweets." Deep blue eyes changed their gaze to Sophia. "But... it wouldn't hurt, would it?" Harker grinned, for he decided that, for once, he would neglect his family's principles of putting healthy food first and delight himself in the night with fine baked goods and chocolate no child could resist. 'When in Mullen,' he supposed. It had been a long time since he enjoyed sweets, and he really quite missed them. His inner-child jumped for joy, and his desire for good eats showed in his eyes.

When the Flames Die

Gareth nodded. "You are welcome, my lady." He looked around the grounds, and he pondered what sort of activities they'd see fit to engage in. They could eat, they could dance, or they could socialize. Harker shifted his gaze to Thomas as he arrived, and he coyly smiled. "It'll be fine. Ah, in the meantime, what shall we do?"

When the Flames Die

Gareth wandered over to Sophia as he watched the knights walk away. "Spirits, I do not like that Sir Redwyne fellow already..." He grimaced. In his eyes, Sir Redwyne seemed to be insecure and uptight to some degree. Earlier, he was considering joining the knighthood, but by now, the Order completely repulsed him. Perhaps they were right in doing what they did for the safety of the king, but their efforts might someday end in vain, and Harker did not want to constrain himself to the high standards of the Order. "Disgraceful... disgraceful, how everyone seems to be a threat to them nowadays." The half-elf could've stepped in earlier and tried to persuade Redwyne to let things go, but by now it was a little late, and he caught the tension rising in Sophia from the shaking in her hands. He grabbed one of her hands. "My lady, it shall be alright." He assured her. 'I hope.'

When the Flames Die

Gareth frowned, watching the scene very closely. That was not a good position to be in, especially with such an uptight organization as the Order. "Ah, I... suppose." He broke away from Thomas, and Harker headed towards the cliff side near the gift table, pretending not to notice the events transpiring nearby, even though he caught Sophia gazing from afar. His underlying motive was for eavesdropping, as though the party from Lyok were foreigners and strangers, at that, he had his eye out for them. If something broke out, he intended to help them. All the while listening in to the conversation, he peered out over the sea and adored its beauty.

When the Flames Die

Gareth hoped he'd be able to have his bow again after the feast, and he bit his lip in frustration. He assuaged himself and loosened his expression. While it bothered him mildly, he had to accept being without it for a short time. He had an evening of food and celebration ahead of him, and that was enough to ease his tensions and relax into the night of partying. "Ah, where shall we start?" Harker broke the silence with a trivial question for Thomas, as Sophia and Jezin left them.

When the Flames Die

Gareth smiled at Sophia. "You are welcome, my lady, and thank you." His smooth voice flowed off of his tongue, and he nodded when they indicated they would be moving onto the feast. Harker followed behind the group, until they were stopped by Sir Redwyne and he almost bumped into Thomas who led them. He would have to part with his weapon, which seemed sensible for the guard to request, but nevertheless he grimaced, for he did so at the cost of his ability to act in defense during the feast. "Ah, yes, sir." He bowed his head and produced his bow from behind him, handing it to the knight, Gareth's hands shaking a tad.

When the Flames Die

Gareth perked up as his name was called, and he brought up his head to see Sophia arriving, his face softening into a smile. "Ah, salutations. Yes, it seems we are all here." His cheeks flushed, finding Thomas's eyes on him, to which he responded with a gentle nod of acknowledgement. "Sophia, you look beautiful this evening, and Jezin, Thomas, quite handsome." Harker held his hands behind his back, and he stood at ease before the others.

When the Flames Die

Gareth returned to the palace courtyard, after he had walked the distance, neither long nor short, between his home and the palace. His hair was gently brushed to the right, and his face was void of emotion, its lack thereof belying his typical formula of anxiety and excitement. Harker had butterflies in his stomach as he arrived, the medium-sized group in the courtyard scattered across it in smaller cliques. The young man tugged his blue vest, tight cut to fit his body by the tailor he visited a week ago, and adjusted his tie, while his belt needed no adjustment—the gurtel was fixed around his waist close, it keeping his tanned pants held up above his boots properly. The only oddity in his attire was the bow and quiver strapped to his back, the weaponry which he carried that night for self-defense. He ambled around with his eyes cast low to avoid eye contact, and Gareth found a seat by the fountain, himself unaware of the familiar presence on the opposite side.

When the Flames Die

"It'll be wonderful to see you all later." Gareth bowed to each party as they left, and he found himself lingering alone in the stands. The sun began to set and the sky grew into a blend of purples and blues and oranges, some stars beginning to show with the moon as Harker started off towards his home in the quickly fading light of dusk. He unlocked the door to his humble abode, a small living space with enough to live and still have some leisure, and he closed the door behind him, entering his house. It was a little dark inside, and he lit a candle or two in the darkest corners to brighten the place. In his own quarters, he began to strip and don his formal attire. Gareth would be only one of few commoners at the feast, and in his somewhat dapper appearance, hopefully he would be pleasing to look at and talk to.

When the Flames Die

Gareth simply nodded along, and as he ate he simply paid attention and said nothing, politely chewing on bread. He wondered about what he would wear to the feast. Maybe a simple vest and dress clothes would suit him well for the occasion, and silently he agreed with himself on it and made a note to change clothes when he left to prepare himself. After all, he'd need to look more than just presentable, he needed to be attractive if he wanted to impress anyone in the court of the king. Now was a time to get his name on the lips of others, to be the promising worker, and perhaps increase his reputation, and he'd be damned if he couldn't do just that. The bread was quite delectable then in particular, and Harker surmised that a good fortune might await him.