Spreading Some Cheer [5/3 early evening, Nathaniel/Elanor]

[Nathaniel Merrick]

It was long after the events of the day that Nathaniel walked the grounds of the castle, a spring in his step and an easy smile lighting the corners of his face. Both the skies and the sunlight were fading, as was their wont to do, and he was looking forwards to sharing the sunset with his wife, later on. Nathaniel lived for his family- Kenna and the boys were his world. It was difficult to ever feel dreary when he knew that they were there, waiting for him, upon his return home.

At that thought, he began to whistle a happy tune. He really must have been the luckiest man in the world- or at the least a prime competitor for the spot. And now, with all these nobles around, all these new faces to meet, new lives and stories to hear... It seemed that for the time being, his life was surely set.

Up ahead, Nathaniel spotted a sight he did not know, and a shock of pale, moon-kissed hair. Which, in all likelihood, meant Arbrecht, or perhaps Fleurant... de Valle? He was suddenly intrigued, and therefore did what seemed the obvious thing, and approached.

"Hello there." He spoke the words concisely, all the cheer and goodwill quite evident within his tone. "Lovely evening we're having, isn't it?" His hands were stuck in his pockets; the man was obviously relaxed, and at peace.

[Elanor Fitzwulf]

The lake made it so easy to be pensive that it was almost unsettling to be greeted cheerfully. Elanor blinked at the man, trying to place him, then decided all at once it didn't matter if she couldn't figure it out. He was open and friendly and happy -- he was happy to see her. That wasn't usual, and it made her feel a little brighter. "Good evening!"

She smiled for him because he deserved it, then as the face got closer recognition hit. Maybe Elanor hadn't often been to Forsilvra, but she'd done her homework and could recgonize the King's council on sight; it helped that one of her interprovincial contacts was very good at sketching. "Lord Merrick right?" If nothing else, he was from Lacharn. That at least was hard to mistake. "Elanor Fitzwulf. It's a pleasure to meet you."

[Nathaniel Merrick]

"The pleasure is mine, Lady Fitzwulf." Nathaniel smiled, dropping down into a florid little bow, and if permitted taking her hand, kissing the back. She was a lovely young woman, her long blonde tresses reminding him of his Kenna's. "And yes, you are right. Nathaniel Merrick, my lady, wondering if you might be willing to put up with his company." He had not yet had the opportunity to speak directly to one of the Fitzwulf family- at least not for any great amount of time. If at all possible, he would rather not allow the chance to slide, now.

Stepping back, he waited patiently, a smile stretched blithely across his handsome features, for Elanor's reply.

[Elanor Fitzwulf]

She allowed the kiss, offering her hand gracefully for the salutation not well-known in Arbrecht. In truth it would be strange for any Arbrecht lord to greet her that way, touching his mouth to her skin, but for people everywhere else it was charming. Anyway, her entire goal was to give Arbrecht more favorable associations than it currently had, so Elanor had practiced her niceties until she was sick of them. "I would be delighted."

She could not be as smiling and friendly as this Nathaniel Merrick, but her face was open enough because it was true. She was pleased to talk to him. "Provided you have time, my lord. I'm certain this is a busy week for you."

[Nathaniel Merrick]

"Oh, I have the time to spare." Nathaniel smiled, the gesture natural and suited to the smooth lines of his face. He was relaxed, comfortable in her presence even though Elanor was really an almost-complete stranger. "Besides, it's a part of my job to know about people from the other provinces. I'd be slacking on my duties if I didn't speak with you." She was the province lord of Arbrecht's sister, after all, and that made her someone of great import. Although realistically, Nathaniel would have spoken to her had she happened to be a Lady, or not. The company was just nice, to have.

"How are you finding the capital, my lady?" He asked her- a simple enough question, at first. It seemed as good a way as any, to set a conversational pace.

[Elanor Fitzwulf]

There was a brief smile as Nathaniel pointed out that not conversing would be a slander on his duties, Elanor's equivalent of a chuckle. "I suppose that's true."

She wasn't very good at small talk, but then again this could just be considered a chance to practice. Right? Ladies needed to know polite conversation. "I like the capital very much. We don't have as much art in Arbrecht and it's lovely to have so much right at my hands. Everyone has been very welcoming."

Everyone outside of Arbrecht, anyway, but perhaps that was only to be expected.

[Nathaniel Merrick]

Nathan was glad to hear the young lady's laughter. It meant that she appreciated his sense of humour- that, or she was playing at pretend, very, very well.

"Ah, but there is something else about Arbrecht, isn't there? A raw, natural beauty in its wilderness. Cold and aloof, and yet perfectly pleasing to look upon, all at the very same time." He offered her an enigmatic smile, accompanied by a sly little wink.

"Are you a fan of the arts, lady Elanor?" He then queried, interested in conversing with the Arbrechtian blonde a bit more.

[Elanor Fitzwulf]

Elanor didn't understand his wink. The girl had no experience either flirting or being flirted with, and what she did know seemed out of context with this conversation. Was Nathaniel insinuating that she was similar to the landscape of Arbrecht? Or was this just something friendly they did in the South? Men were strange. "Agreed. Arbrecht is majestic -- the mountains and glaciers burn themselves into people's hearts. Even far away they're hard to forget; it's a beautiful country."

She chose not to respond to the wink, deciding that all things considered it was too confusing. Besides, handsome as this Lord Merrick was, her research indicated that he was married and that wouldn't sit quite right with anyone. "I do very much like the arts, my lord. One of my greatest laments for my province is how little creative culture there is to be found -- what artistic talent shows up is nearly always practical. I think it has made our people hard."

[Nathaniel Merrick]

Arbrecht was indeed beautiful, for all of its harshness, its solid and unforgiving nature. "I would love to be able to visit it again some day, but alas, my duties dictate that I remain here, whilst the kingdom's ambassadors receive the joy of travel." It was a fact that hadn't suited him well, at least initially. Nathaniel always had been one to move from place to place, to stay for a while, and become absorbed in the local culture and way of life. It was something that had made him a prime candidate for this position on the Council; a position he had grown more comfortably into, in time.

"I'm sure if Arbrecht welcomed it, you would have artists pouring in through your doors." He smiled, already holding the vision securely within his mind. "But I understand that the local creations might be more of an acquired taste. Have you taking to any artistic pursuits yourself, my lady?" He asked her, still smiling, still resolving to be as friendly as he could.

[Elanor Fitzwulf]

"I've heard that His Grace is thinking of touring all the provinces. If that is correct then perhaps you will be able to accompany him and see Arbrecht once more -- we'd be very happy to host you in Westerland. It's grown more comfortable over the years." In contrast to Nathaniel, Elanor was not really one for travel. It wasn't that she found traveling uninteresting, it was simply that she'd never left the province until this voyage. As things often went, now that she was older there just wasn't time for it. Her responsibility was too large to justify traipsing all over creation without a good reason.

Nathaniel's next question surprised the lady, and she looked at him a moment as if not quite knowing what to say. No one had ever asked it of her; Elanor guessed that nobody entertained the possibility that she was capable of it. "....Yes, I have." The answer came slowly, as if Lady Fitzwulf was debating whether she should trust anyone with this knowledge or not. After all, it wasn't something exactly standard for an Arbrechtian warrior to admit. "Quite a few, if I'm being honest. Songs. Stories. Plays. Painting. Whether it's any good or not, I don't know, but I guess the end result of liking art in a society where there isn't much is having to make your own...although I do collect what I can find. Arbrechtian smiths make some glorious jewelry."

She offered a smile, turning attention back to her handsome companion. "What of yourself?"

[Nathaniel Merrick]

Nathaniel's smile caused dimples to form upon his face. The prospect of returning to Arbrecht again, to witness first-hand its cold beauty... He relished the possibility, and was grateful to Elanor for having offered it.

"Westerland... I thank you for your invitation, my lady. Be warned that I might just take you up on it." Travel wasn't something that the counciller shied away from, for all that he had been more restricted from doing so in recent times. But if Adrien truly was planning a tour of the provinces... then perhaps Nathaniel could accompany him, in the stead of his ambassadors for a change. It wouldn't hurt for him to refresh his mind as to what the peoples and cultures of other lands were like, surely.

Elanor explained her artistic pursuits, and Nathaniel listened, curious and attentive as an audience should be. It seemed that she had tried her hand at a variety of artistic pursuits, and additionally collected any pieces she could find. She asked the same question of him, and the counciller shrugged his shoulders ever so lightly in reply.

"I'm more of an admirer, myself." He admitted, although that wasn't on account of not trying. "I might have dabbled in sketches and painting, as well as a spot of poetry, but... we shan't go there." He smiled whilst his voice indicated mock-warning. "I fear it would be dangerous for your health."

[Elanor Fitzwulf]

"A courteous warning, Lord Merrick, but I'm not frightened by it. Westerland is in dire need of people who are quick to smile, so perhaps I should warn you that if you come I might force you to stay. I love it, but at times it is too gloomy." That was true enough. Maybe it was just her section of Arbrecht, but so many people seemed to be far too serious. Jon was a breath of fresh air; Elanor really didn't know how she'd keep herself sane if he wasn't around to tease people.

The Authority of Diplomacy, however, had some of the same talent, and Lady Elanor found herself snorting at his self-deprecating joke. "On the contrary, my lord, I thought it common knowledge that laughter is the best medicine. How selfish of you to keep it to yourself!"

[Nathaniel Merrick]

"Then I would happily be a prisoner of your hospitality, Lady Fitzwulf." Nathaniel chuckled, his face lightly up boyishly, in spite of his slightly advanced years. "Perhaps I will even perform some poetry for you and yours. A travesty to all the ears of your court!" As well it would be. When the best you could do was little more than rhyming 'cat' and 'hat' with 'bat,' there really was no hope left for you in the verbally artistic world.

"They would likely be begging at your heels to throw me out." He continued to jest, thoroughly enjoying the moment, and making every fraction of it worthwhile. "No- best that I remain a selfish little man than inflict such terrors upon your people." And yet he was chuckling still.

[Elanor Fitzwulf]

Elanor laughed at the Authority's teasing, resisting the urge to roll her eyes. "So you choose to be a selfish little man, hmm? Some diplomat." But she smiled, and shook a curtain of white-blonde hair back over her shoulders. "The people of my province are stubborn. Much as I think they might be asking for some punishment, unfortunately my goal is to get them to like music and art. So maybe it's best if you keep your talents to yourself." Still she grinned at him, a wicked sparkle lighting her eyes. "That's a good way for you to earn your keep, though. Bring some good artists with you when you visit, and you can stay as long as you like."

She paused a moment, adjusting her dress, then gave Lord Merrick a curious glance. "...What is it like, living in the capital?"

[Nathaniel Merrick]

"You are mistaken, my lady. I am but a humble Authority, a seat on the council who convenes with the King. I have diplomats who travel to other lands for me, and I'll have you know that they are far less selfish, and far better at poetry, than me." Which had to be at the very least mostly true. On the poetry count, if not the selfishness one. In all seriousness, Nathaniel prided himself on being a very open, very approachable man.

"I shall be sure to bring an army of artists to your Westerland when I come to visit. Best make sure that you are well stocked ahead of time, Lady Elanor." He chuckled once again, though he sombered up somewhat as his companion voiced her next query.

"I like it well enough, my lady. Each counciller has his own manor, so I hardly have reason to complain." It was different from his native Lacharn, however. There, he had only been the youngest of many siblings, who would likely never have aspired to overly much. Here, however, he had both power and influence. Rather than take advantage of it, however, he had seen it as a most welcome change. "I also met my wife here. I don't suppose you've had the opportunity to meet her?"

[Elanor Fitzwulf]

"Unfortunately I have not. I knew you were married, but for the life of me I couldn't think of who the lady was. I like to think that if I'd met her I wouldn't be so careless." Fortunate woman, whoever she was. Elanor felt a stab of regret, and maybe a little envy -- what would it be like to be greeted every day by such a kind, happy face? It brought a pang, a pain that might have been yearning, and she turned her head from him. "Will you tell me about her?"

Maybe it was a love story. Elanor never knew how she felt about those, they hurt and healed her all at the same time.

[Nathaniel Merrick]

"She is Lady Kenna Montrose, the daughter of our royal Seneschal." Nathaniel informed his companion, the delight never once leaving his dark brown eyes. Speaking of his wife was evidently a topic he enjoyed- he loved her incredibly, after all.

"Ours wasn't a very romantic story, however, I'm afraid. Nothing for the bards to speak of. I was new to Forsilvra, newly appointed as the Authority of Diplomacy. In getting to know my fellow councilmen better, I found myself betrothed to one of their daughters. We were married within the year." He laughed, showing another wave of good humour.

"I'd like to say it was love at first sight, though. Kenna truly is a beautiful woman, if not quite so flamboyant in social situations as me." And in earnest that may have been putting things lightly. "Maybe it's something to be said about the northern blood?" Nathaniel ventured. Natives Arbrecht were well capable of being more sensible and stoic, and it was always intriguing how, from region to region, a person could change.

[Elanor Fitzwulf]

Elanor returned him a half-smile, acknowledging the general coldness of people from the north. "I don't know Lady Kenna's story, but it's true that many Northerners have sadness and trouble in their past. The hard land makes for hard lives and we are not usually so merry as those from the south."

Her smile widened, though, and she continued with open fondness in her tone. "My brother Jon is different though. He always has a smile and a laugh; he cheers up Westerland considerably and he is a wonderful tease. I'm glad to be related to him." Grey eyes sparkled, and she offered a little laugh. "I've a tendency to be far too serious on my own time, but Jon knows how to make me smile just so. He's a gift for it. Rather like you, I think, although my brother is a little bolder."

Elanor grinned at him. "I imagine your lovely lady wife found it happy to be paired with someone who is so free with his smiles. Such cheer eases life for even the most dour, as long as they have goodness in their hearts."

[Nathaniel Merrick]

It was good to see that sparkle in her eyes as she spoke of her brother. Everyone needed their joys in life, to find pleasure in various things. That Jon was capable of bringing his little sister smiles gave him plus points in Nathaniel's book. He had heard of the young man, of course, and was interested in seeing how well he would handle his new role as Lord of Arbrecht. Or King, as they tended to name themselves.

"Life is too short to be so serious, my lady." The counciller smiled. "My family all take that lesson to heart. The halls of Dyos are always a happy place." And the Merricks were well known for their eccentricities- or so Nathaniel thought.

"But bolder?" The man went on to add with a rakish grin, as though clearly quite unwilling to be outdone. "I'm sorry, my lady, but I find such a thing difficult to believe."

[Elanor Fitzwulf]

"Of course he is bolder!" Elanor grinned back at him, her expression becoming more of a smirk. "You Southerners are too civilized."

[Nathaniel Merrick]

"Civilised?" Nathaniel laughed, his dark eyes glittering beneath the darkening sun's light. "I hope this does not mean that you are admitting to your people being savages as so many like to claim?" He also found it amusing that the reverse held true, that the northerner might consider their southron cousins far too civilised, in turn.

[Elanor Fitzwulf]

The Lady moved coyly, swirling past him in a rustling of skirts. "Do I act like a savage, Lord Merrick? I would hope no one would mistake me for anything less than a lady, but with that said...there is such a thing as being too formal. The world is upside down when serious matters are set aside for protocol."

She looked at him again, then, eyes glinting. "Although I begin to wonder how civilized those Southrons can be when it becomes acceptable to hint that a new acquaintance might be savage. Shameful."

Oh, she was teasing, but in that delightfully dry way she found so satisfying. It was even better when people missed the humor.

[Nathaniel Merrick]

"Act savage? You, my lady?" The man's eyes widened, as though in some surprise. "No, I would say that you are doing a fine job of acting the lady... although I wonder how much of that is truly act. You are as well spoken and civil a noblewoman as any the south can boast of." His eyes twinkled in accompaniment to the praise. The young Fitzwulf was certainly proving good company this eve.

"Not at all." Nathaniel chuckled in response to Elanor's teasing. He was a difficult one to offend, always had been. The world was often better, after all, for a smile. "Perhaps we are all savages beneath it all, wearing our cloaks of civility. We just don't like to admit it, and so claim others as more savage than we."

[Elanor Fitzwulf]

Nathaniel's praise made the younger girl's face brighten, light coming back into her eyes. Did he really mean that? She'd worked so hard to be just what he said, a Lady equal to any of the fine women of the South, and to hear this from a complete stranger -- maybe all her pains hadn't been for naught! Maybe there was hope. "Thank you kindly, my lord! I have to say that is the highest compliment you could possibly have given me; I'm very pleased to this."

One hand lifted to her hair, smoothing a golden lock rather the same way a bird might preen its feathers. "And that is a very profound statement, but in our case I prefer to believe we are equally civilized and our actions would prove it if we ever found ourselves upon the horns of a dilemma. In my opinion, good hearts matter more to civility than any finely-turned phrase."

[Nathaniel Merrick]

"What can I say, my lady? You give a good first impression." Nathaniel told her in reply, with no hint of mockery to his words. "Just don't you let these flatteries weaken your resolve- especially when they come from dashing gents like me." He teased, although there genuinely was a truth to his words. Compliments were but one method with which you could get another to open up, and talk... given the right circumstances, of course. Elanor was a lovely young woman, but she was also in a position of some power, as well.

"Well said." He went on to add in response to the next of her words. "There are those who say that a good heart is hard to find, however. What happens to civility then?" Not that Nathaniel really wanted to believe in such a thing. He liked people, and sharing their company... conversing over this and that, matters of importance and trivialities both.

[Elanor Fitzwulf]

Elanor smiled at him, but she understood the warning and so her eyes were serious. "Believe me, my lord, it will take much more than compliments to weaken my resolve." Not that she wanted to brag, but it was true. Elanor tended to have a good feel for people, although most of that was likely because it took amazing people to convince her that it was safe to lower her guard. She was not callous enough to assume that no one could ever fool her, but she did trust her instincts and thus far they had led her right.

"Your question is difficult. I am not terribly optimistic about many things, and I fear I would be one of those who feel that good hearts are hard to find...however, I am not as defeated as it may seem." She glanced at him. "I like to think that what good hearts there are will stand as brothers against whatever storms might rage."