And just when he was growing lost in his back and forth musings, all of a sudden, there she was, startling him and stopping him dead in his tracks. Málmr was again arrested at the sight of her, those star-like eyes framed against a backdrop darker than the forest behind her, and her voice was all too fitting to the mysterious image she cast.
He started to say something, forgot the flowers were in his mouth, and gingerly dropped them to the grass, facing her fully as he smacked the strong taste from his mouth. "Yeth, I hail fom Phaline, but-" he began, his voice deep as mountain gravel and just as booming, and it was only then that he realized in fresh embarrassment that his first impression was to be that his mouth was incredibly numb from the flower stalks. It hadn't been too long in his grip, but honestly, what a foolish mistake on his part!
He cleared his throat and began again. There was nothing for it, really, but to properly explain as best he could. "I hail fom Phaline, herb mithtwess, an' patwol for the Ohdew. We met an' I fewt I hwightened you, so hith is an apo'ogy. I athed for f'owers f'om Nymene t'at were uthful an' me'icinal an' rea'ize wha' a foo'ish - sthu'id - Geirr, a' hink it's 'ettin 'orse." *
If it were possible for a warrior of the Order, carrying many scars of battle, to be embarrassed, well, here he was. He couldn't have made a worse first impression if he tried.
(Translation: I hail from Faline, herb mistress, and patrol for the Order. We met and I felt I frightened you, so this is an apology. I asked for flowers from Nymene that were useful and medicinal and realize what a foolish - stupid - Geirr, I think it's getting worse.)
WC: 312
(Set before the Feast of Flowering)
The moon was bright and clear tonight as Málmr continued his patrol route across the main roads of Ivras. He'd passed by the city of Namarast roughly an hour ago, but its high towering branches were still easy to see if he looked back over the horizon, and it made him smile to see it. He'd never been there but once, and the memory of meeting Andel there was a fond one. The thought of bettering his magic still hovered in the back of his thoughts, though he hadn't the faintest idea of where to start. If only Faramund was easy to find so that he might ask his old teacher questions.
He left the open skies and traded them for a close-knit copse of trees, the moonlight piercing the canopy now and again. This was where he'd first met the elusive doe whose name he hadn't been able to ask, and maybe it was too much to hope that he'd find her here again. She was a lovely thing, with a coat that blended in with the dark under-wood with eyes and mane that could only be related to the night sky. He'd been too surprised to bluster anything really comprehensible, but maybe this time would be different.
The flowers he'd bought and carried along just for this occasion from Orion's shop were starting to wilt despite all the care the quiet stallion had put into them, and Málmr wondered if they might be better dried or pressed at this rate. Would she appreciate that? Or might she run away in contempt?
He was frankly starting to doubt that his initial intentions were good in the first place. It was all well and good to wish to be friends with someone you met along the road, but was it a decent thing to press for it when it might be unwanted? He hadn't had time to gauge that on first impressions last time, but surely there wasn't any harm in asking. Right?
(wc: 333)
His ears perked up when she came down the hill towards him and he stood up a little straighter, trying to push aside his embarrassment. He would've understood if she's taken one look at him and left, but instead she explained that Nymene was to be avoided (which was news to him, as he'd never been), and the actual properties of the flowers that he....admittedly hadn't asked about before purchasing.
Málmr broke out into a beaming grin of relief. Not only did she accept them graciously, but she told him there wasn't anything to fear from them, which was a kindness he appreciated. She was taking his mistake in stride without a hint of scorn, so he continued as best he could. He'd had no idea they were so potent without preparation, but at least they weren't poisonous, and he said as much with warmth and crinkling eyes.. "...I know th' 'here 're p'ants tha' 're poithonus 'fore they're hooked popery - th' ewwobe'y 'omes to 'ind and ewwobe'y wine. Oh, and 'ose hig 'ed egetabuss tha' 're ind'ed to 'eady ightthade. 'm gad his asn't one o' hose inthanthes, tho 'hank you 'or th' athuranthe." *
(*Translation: I know that there are plants that are poisonous before they're cooked properly - the elderberry comes to mind and elderberry wine. Oh, and those big red vegetables that are kindred to deadly nightshade. I'm glad this wasn't one of those instances, so thank you for the assurance.)
She was staring at him expectantly now, and he chuckled a little. "But - (Translation: But aside from the terrible first impression I must've made, the point of the matter is that I was hoping to be friends. I have this idea that you would be a fascinating person to know, and the way you reacted to my egregious mistake has assured me thus far.)" His smile widened fondly, a little lopsided from his numb lips. "I'm Málmr."
He glanced over her tall shoulder at the cloth full of gathered herbs and such, the tools and baskets filled with various leaves, his eyes wide with honest curiosity. "I don't know if it would be prying, but I did see last time that you had an interest in herb gathering, which was where the choice of apology flowers came from, you see. It's one thing to be lovely, but another to be useful as well, as far as gifts go. But, if it's not too much to ask, what kind of things do you find in the Sunless Jungle?"
wc: 424
Her expression gave very minute signs of impatience, and Málmr didn't begrudge her that. He was interrupting her work by the look of things, but she invited him forward despite that, and he just radiated delight as he followed her up the incline. He saw her worn baskets, her well-loved tools, and it gave him a much clearer idea of what to choose for a future gift if the need arose. Something practical, of good craftsmanship to last, and something with many, many pockets. He thought mildly that Tamir would be just the person to ask before he gave his attention to her explanations.
He listened to her point out the various things on her blanket with warm interest and patience, giving a deep rumbling laugh over the apt names of some, and daring to sniff over others that he'd never seen before, his nose twitching and picking up on subtle notes. At some point he settled down on the grass when she spoke of autumn and all its harvest, and he replied in kind in a thoughtful way, trying to be as clear as he could be with his mouth still horribly numb. He set aside his helmet on the grass and gave her all of his attention with a quiet tenderness.
Málmr asked her questions about the various uses of what she'd gathered and still more that he'd seen on his many travels, commenting on her extensive knowledge and experience with honest praise. He asked her about what might be innocent on its own but disastrous if mixed together, and about what liked to live in different regions and temperatures, and he was surprised that willow bark, something incredibly common amongst the Stalhúð to chew on for pain relief, was found so far south, and he talked about the things he foraged commonly. He was on the road so much that he relied on his nose to find him things to eat, and though he wasn't picky, he didn't have the luxury of experimenting beyond what he knew was safe uncooked, and much of his coin went towards winter when he had no choice in the matter.
A lot of what he knew was practical common knowledge meant to save a lot of stomach ache, so his questions had a mix of innocent intrigue and surprise at the seemingly endless possibilities his host displayed with calm grace. Silent enjoyment radiated off of him in his every gesture, and soon he forgot to be embarrassed over his rough first impression.
In keeping conversation, he was pleased to find that his mouth numbness was wearing off, though his gentle tone didn't rise beyond patient warmth. He nodded to the jungle chicken and the bird pepper and said, "Thurly you must be a ethcellent cook, mithtreth Ratha, and you hath all my envy for it. When one ith on the road tho long, you learn to apprethiate a good hot meal thomeone took the time to make. I uthed to enjoy it, and I don't think I wath too bad at it. The long halls, the companionthip, theeing everyone come together o'er what you spent time making." He mulled over that for a moment in quiet nostalgia before smiling, the left side still a little turned.
He shook off that lingering moment before turning to Rasha with renewed interest, and further questions about what she found in that strange middle ground between culinary and medicinal and poisonous knowledge, enjoying the conversation as it went along.
wc: 584
Everything that pleased him about the conversation was open and easy to read, from her calm corrections to her sitting down with him too, and soon enough his piqued enthusiasm settled into comforted warmth, as if there was nowhere else he'd rather be, as if they'd had conversations like these a hundred times before. He gave a quiet, deep laugh and agreed that he'd be honored to show her his foraging spots off the road from Faline when he was off duty.
His brows raised when she said cooking was only a means to survival, and he grinned. "If that's the cathe, I wouldn't mind cooking for you, mistreth Ratha. I'm fairly good at finding things under the earth and digging them up, and one of my favorite things to make is a mushroom thew with a wine thock." He hummed pleasantly."Garlic, potatoes, butter, a truffle if I can find it....and I wonder how your jungle chicken would taste in it. I could arrive for that tour, have a satchel for it, and have an afternoon of it, if it pleases you."
Then she asked about his halls, and his smile melted into fondness that she'd ask. "Ah...no, it's not the Order I speak of. The Order has its barracks, but it's not the thame. I was once of the Stalhúð."
His tone shifted from a calm excitement to one of fond nostalgia, trailing at times as memories caught up with him. He talked about the snow capped peaks, the deep woods, and the turbulent sea against which he'd spent most of his life. The close-lived kinship he shared with those in the long halls, the boisterous loyalty to their clan leader forged from countless battles made shoulder to shoulder. They were separate from Ivran traditions and commonly frowned upon the Order and Namarast's forced conscription, instead solving issues within their own.
"There were no secrets between uth." He said with a distant smile. "We lived as clothe as blood kin, rested together and ate together by the same fires. We shared our histories with pride. You have to understand, when the nights grew cold and we bundled together, we thared our stories and our worries and remembered them." He closed his eyes fondly for a moment. "I remember when Rök's grandfather fought the twenty-headed serpent with nothing but a broken shield - I remember when Sjá prayed to the Son of Bronze for a child and her joy when she was finally answered. But there are so many in Ivrath that such a thing isn't possible. You read and write instead of tell and remember, and it was hard to change to that." He turned to her then with a beaming smile. "But I am fond of sending letterth to the friends I make along the way. It is a blessed skill to have."
And then a thought occurred to him, and he grinned again, reaching over to his pouch to pull a slip of paper from his pack with an address scrawled on it. "Here! This is where I receive my letters. If you ever have need of me or a mage protector, I will come running on your account as quickly as I'm able." His eyes crinkled. "Or if you wish for someone to talk to."
wc: 551
Málmr
333, 312, 424, 584, 551 = 2204 Total Word Count
(+5) Completed Posts, (+1) Character Arc Bonus, (+5) First Meeting Prompt = 11
22 + 11 = 33 Total Gold
Rasha
401, 279, 474, 307, 465 = 1926 Total Word Count
(+5) Completed Posts, (+1) Character Arc Bonus, (+5) First Meeting Prompt = 11
19 + 11 = 30 Total Gold