Tea and Scones

Title: Tea and Scones
Time Period: February 28, 135 A.E.
Characters Appearing:

Summary: Running away takes careful preparation, Luna has it all under control.

Iago's hooves beat a sedate tempo on the road toward the ocean. He's not happy, carrying his two riders, though at least Luna has grown less afraid of him since the least time she sat on his saddle. The sun overhead seems distant behind an overcast sky; the white canvas sets up a stark contrast for the dark shapes of trees and rocky outcrops in the distance, and it's a peaceful journey to this spot by the shore that's far enough away from town that the woman's errand won't be interrupted by merchants and fisherman like they might be along the docks.

When the sea comes into full view, Beisdean stands in the stirrup to hop to the ground, taking the reins to lead Iago at a walking pace while allowing Luna to ride a few more feet. "This all right?" he asks, nodding to the seaside landscape before them — the water looks cold, a frigid gray, but not too angry today.

Even though she claimed it only to be an errand, Luna did insist on bringing two full carpet bags with her, one heavy and jingly, the other just heavy. Dressed a little too warm for the weather despite her natural chill, she's shed two layers already. Inwardly, she's already lamenting the horse hair that's stuck all over them. But she's much too polite (today) to say anything.

"Here is just right," she answers, squinting toward the water. "I'm sure I see some selkies now, it shouldn't be long at all."

The blonde is quite careful, too careful, getting off the horse. A tight hold on the saddle has her hanging almost a half a foot from the ground for nearly a minute before she deems it safe enough to actually drop. Then her luggage and finally her cloak and shawl make it to the ground with her. The bag that makes noise is carefully opened and pawed through before she closes it tight again.

By the time he turns to help her, she's already been independent and brave enough to hop down by herself, and he gives her an odd glance while she looks at her bags before bringing Iago to a tree to loop his reins around a branch.

"You know," Beisdean says, leaning against the tree, "I may be wrong, but I don't think you can bring baggage with you if you run off with the selkies." His eyes flit to the ocean and search for what she thinks she sees, before looking back to her.

"Luna…" his tone is cautious, "don't get your heart set on anything today, all right? It's very very likely that nothing at all will happen."

"You're wrong," Luna voices with a measure of confidence, "Something will happen today."

The shawl and cloak are layered back on and secured tightly to her before she bends to lift the bags. They're heavy and one clinks back down to the road before the other is dropped in a panic. Again, the first is opened and checked thoroughly before she closes it again. Heaving a long sigh, she sits on the noiseless one and cups her chin with her hands. They're close enough to the ocean to see it, not close enough for her to do anything but stare mournfully at it.

"You can go back, Baizey, I'll make my own way eventually. If the selkies don't come."

Beisdean crosses his arms and watches her sit for a moment, then shakes his head. "With all that? You won't make it very far. And I'm hardly a gentleman if I take you out to the middle of nowhere, just to leave you by yourself. How long are you planning to wait for?" he asks, glancing up at the sky to gauge the sun's position behind the pale white blanket.

While waiting for her answer, he moves to find a spot on a dry log, bending his long legs to sit, then stretching them back out again as he looks out to the water.

For that, Beisdean gets a hook of a pale eyebrow and the look of incredulity. "Since when…" she begins slowly, lifting a hand away from her face to examine her fingernails. A bit of grime is flicked away from a fingernail and then it's blown to ensure no residual dust remains. "…Have you ever been accused of being a gentleman?" The mischievous grin afterward is a small hint that the question she threw back at him is possibly a joke.

Once again, Luna stands, brushes any forming wrinkles from her dress, and lifts the noisy bag with both hands. The other is left in the dust as she inches her way toward the shore. Baby steps, lots of them, carry her slowly past Beisdean and toward the water. "I'm not going back with you, no matter what happens with the selkies… but I've brought enough to last me quite a while."

His eyes narrow at her question before the grin makes him smile in return. "Gentlemen have no fun, anyway, aside from their wardrobes," he says lightly, but he follows as she moves toward the water.

"Oh? Where are you going to go, Luna? And what will your parents do to me if they find out I brought you away this afternoon only to return without you? I'll be strung up, feathered and tarred, likely, if they think I've done something to you, lass," he says quietly, following her path easily with his long stride.

"I stayed overnight in the tents a few times," she reveals, as though it's no big secret. It isn't, she talks. "I can't imagine that it will be so hard to make a small fire and raise a tent for myself. Fletcher and his little group did it, I'm sure I can." The carpet bag is put down carefully and she rubs her arms to either warm them or keep them from getting sore, probably the latter.

Glancing back to the other bag, she motions to the first with her hand, telling it to stay, before running back to fetch it. More baby steps, until the second bag is with the first. A whoosh of air expels from her lungs and she finds herself, once again, sitting on the soft bag. "Da' won't say anything, he don't care. You'll explain to ma', she'll understand, she wants to be with them more'n I do. No one else'll give a fig, so you don't need to worry."

"Do you have a tent in one of those bags? And it's not just about making a fire and raising a tent. You need to have something to eat, which means catching it or finding it, cleaning it and cooking it. There's a lot more to living out on the land than you probably realize, Luna," he says with a shake of his head and then peering back to look at the road where he left Iago.

"This is ridiculous, I shouldn't have agreed to bring you. The selkies are not going to come and take you away with them, and all that's going to happen is you're going to get yourself lost, drowned, or killed. And you know who's going to get blamed for that?" He reaches to pick up one bag, gestures to the other. "C'mon. We're going back. You don't have to go to the Dovetail, but you aren't going to play summer camp out here by yourself."

Her blue eyes fly wide open when Beisdean has the audacity to try to pick up the bag of jingly things. "Be careful with that!!" is cried out before Luna launches herself at him and grips the handles with her own hands instead. "For your information, I have just enough. You don't need to know what I do and don't have. You don't need to give a fig either. Besides, I'd have made it here myself eventually. It just would've taken longer." Much longer.

Whatever treasures are held in the precious bag, they're favored and the other is left behind as she makes the attempt to pull her way closer to the beach. "I'm not going back, to the Dovetail or Dornie." Her insistence is quieter and much calmer than the shriek before. "I'm staying here and in three days if the selkies haven't come, then I'll go someplace else."

The handles are not let go, and as Luna turns toward the beach, he jerks the bag back, tugging her with it. "I'm not leaving you for three days here. I'm not leaving you at all. It's not a far walk from town, but you got lost the other day — you've lived here your entire life, Luna. How are you going to find anything when the three days are up and you decide to head out? In the winter no less," he points out, cheeks flushing with some anger.

"If it were that easy to travel in winter, do you realize I would have left months ago? You know nothing about the world out there, and you're going to kill yourself on some idea of high adventure and romance that doesn't really exist."

Beisdean glances down at the bag they each hold. "Come on. If you want to leave town, this isn't the way to do it."

She stumbles and falls forward against his arm but quickly scrambles back to a stand, trying to maintain as much dignity as possible. "Let go, Beisdean Skye, you'll ruin everything!" Being no match for his strength, Luna merely digs her heels in and leans backward to try to stop him from dragging her back. "You can leave me with my things or you can just leave me but I ain't going. You'll never change my mind."

Her pout softens, or begins to, as he presents the other option. To that, she still shakes her head. "I'm sorry but no. Please, just let me go. I'll write a letter to ma', you'll not be blamed for anything. I promise, just please Baizey, for once… think of my happiness."

Beisdean lets go of the handle and turns away, shaking his head. "For once, think of your happiness… you think I want you to stay to keep you miserable? You don't know what it's like out there," he gestures to the wilderness. "Dornie is a palace compared to what's beyond, do you realize that? You think your life is hard here?"

Shaking his head, he turns his gaze up to the sky, searching until he sees the tell tale silhouette of a raven in the sky, waiting til it alights on a tree branch some distance off.

The man turns back to Luna, his face still grim even with the watcher high above. "You've decided you can't be happy, and so you won't," he says with a shrug. "'For there is nothing either good or bad, but thinking makes it so.' Did you at least bring something to eat for the next three nights, or did you only think to bring your jewelry and knife collection, from the sound of it?"

"Tea set," Luna corrects, carefully placing the bag out of reach of her escort. "Anyone half civilized can't live without a proper tea set. And tea, I brought some of that, and two scones. I thought of everything before I packed." Except telling her accomplice any of the plan.

Pulling the cloak off, she covers the two bags with it and wraps her shawl a little tighter around her body. "Why do you think you staying or going has anything to do with my happiness? I missed you terribly once, it's true, but you've made it quite clear that there's no place for an us. I'm doing my best to move on and I don't know how to make you believe me. This— " she waves her hand toward the bag and then the sea, "— ain't got naught to do with you Baizey. I'm following my dream, the one the bay leaves gave me."

Two scones. His lips part to argue with her, but then she speaks and he tips his head curiously, eyes narrowing. "I didn't say my staying or leaving had anything to do with your happiness. Your leaving Dornie isn't going to make you happy, is what I mean, because out there? The world beyond Dornie's civilization? It's dangerous and hard, and you are not going to survive, because you think your life here is hard."

He stalks toward the horse, then throws a look back at the bag over his shoulder. "A tea set. And scones. Did you think to bring a knife or a gun or a fucking tent, Luna? You won't last a day, and it'll be on my conscience if you die, and I don't need more things haunting me than I already have."

Striding to Iago, Beisdean opens a saddle bag to pull out the sack of dried meat and dried fruit he carries for Darklight, then tosses it down the trail at her, to the protest of the familiar in the tree, who gives an indignant Caa!

The bag is watched as it sails through the air, then lands in a cloud of snow on the path. Slowly, Luna walks over to pick it up, dust it off, and hold it tightly underneath her shawl. "You're wrong, the leaves told me that I'd find something here and here is where I'm staying until I do. I have tea, I have scones, now I have… this." She holds up the bag before quickly tucking it back in. "I'll make due, after all it's not the first time I've gone but this time I ain't planning to be back."

Turning back to her bags, she kneels beside them and stuffs the food into the softer pack that, when she opens it, seems to be already too full of fine clothing. Not a tent. "I have a knife, two of them." For butter and cheese. "No gun because I've never had one to begin with, so there, I have thought this through."

Beisdean lifts his eyes to the sky and reaches to put his hands on the back of his head, turning away with exasperation. "Right. Traipsing off into the wilderness in winter is a good idea when tea leaves told you to do it. I'll remember that and make sure I make my plans only after having my cuppa in the morning and reading the bottom of the cup," he mutters, a little low for her to hear, more to himself.

Turning around, he looks at her, studying her before sighing. "Well then. Have a nice life, I suppose, Luna." Beisdean tips his hat, shakes his head, and turns back to mount Iago.

Watch her. You can see from there?

I'm not new at this, you know. I keep an eye on you all the time, brother, Darklight's voice returns.

"Tea leaves don't work, everyone knows that," Luna grumps back as she gathers up one bag and begins inching toward the rocky shore. "It's the bay leaves on Valentine's day, I had to risk my very freedom to acquire them. Cut under the silvery moon and everything, they were." After the pack is carefully placed in a hollow near where the grass and snow turn to rocks and sand, she gathers her skirts in her hands and makes her way back up.

She doesn't stop at the bag, instead she marches straight up to Iago and places a hand on his neck. "I hope you find your peace, Baizey, and thank you for everything. Do you want the letter before you go? I don't think you'll need it, ma' should understand quite well."

Her words elicit a groan, knowing he's the cause of this, having mentioned the bay leaves in passing. "Right, the bay leaves, the thing I said is a fucking superstition. Not everything in this world is magic, you know? Some things really are just stories, Luna. If you don't have it written already, don't worry about it, but I'm going to go straight there to tell her about it now so maybe someone else can come out and put some sense in your pretty little empty head."

He reaches to touch it, tugging one blond lock, then pressing a hand against her cheek. "See you. Hopefully in town for dinner," he says with another shake of his head, gathering his reins and nudging Iago into motion.