(1310-07-05) The Gardener
Summary: Ysabeu and Vespasien practice their arts in the gardens of Rose Sauvage.
RL Date: Thu Jul 05, 1310
Related: None
vespasien ysabeau 


The gardens of La Rose Sauvage offer a different ambience and atmosphere than that of the more oppressive and richly ornate salon. Tall casement windows spill out onto a paved area which gives way to neatly arranged flowerbeds, where a predominance of roses pay homage to the canons encompassed by this salon. The paths are of a dark granite grey which have softened over the years by the enroachment of mosses and lichens, with smaller paths winding off through the beds. It's here along these secluded paths that arborial areas and private nooks might be found, and where privacy is granted to those that seek it through flowering hedges and curtained awnings.%r%rA fountain plays at the centre of the garden, the copper figures of two nude women, long since mellowed to a soft verdigris, spill water from shells into a pool at its base. The main pathway through the garden leads to a terracotta tiled courtyard that sits towards the farthest end, the walls here flanked by creeping ivys which cloak the walls in scarlet and orange during the autumn months. An oiled silk awning hangs over the courtyard to give shelter from both sun and rain, and oil lamps light the area when evening falls.

True to her word, Ysabeau can be found in the garden, relaxing in a deceptively simple drape of a deep, dark red silk. Settled on a bench, she has a small basket of goodies with her - fabric, scissors, a wide variety of embroidery threads in colors she -thinks- she might need, plus a 'few' extra, just in case. Holding the six inch embroidery hoop in hand, she's absolutely contented,with a glass of wine and a plate of snack foods near to hand - cheese, thin slices of nibbling breads, nuts, grapes. Things that won't make a mess of what she is working on, but that she can remember to eat between carefully placed stitches. With company expected, there's two pitchers of wine , a white and a red, and a second glass.

Vespasien isn't long in arriving- this time, he's brought a flat piece of wood with him- thin, and placed on some sort of support scaffolding very much like an easal. He has paints with him- several jars put into his bag clinking together. He comes to sit near Ysabeau as she sews and smiles over to her quietly. He pours himself a glass of red wine.

Ysabeau looks up from her sewing with a warm smile for the man,glancing to his supplies and brightening further. "Oh, you brought them! The roses, there, are in full bloom. And there we have some nettles." Of course they have nettles. Nudging her basket, she moves a little closer so she can peep at whatever he works on - unless told not to, of course. "What did you think of the fete? The dresses were fantastic, but I think I got there a bit late for the main of it."

"The music was fantastic- it was a short event, though. Not much to it." Vespasien admits, "But, I suppose there doesn't really need to be." he continues- not seeming to mind the closeness whatsoever.

"Oh, these aren't the paints I was talking about before. Those are still being prepared. I have to collect a very large number of dandelions." Why, exactly, is difficult to say. "Otherwise, the paint doesn't stick to the skin quite the way I like." he offers.

But for now, he looks at the empty piece of wood- birch by the looks of it. Pale white. "Mm.." he wonders to himself. "You should, perhaps, add ginger root…. I'll show you why another time." he teases.

"A pity I couldn't make it sooner." Someone was busily looking for the perfect threads for that lavender cloth. Couldn't be helped! "Dandelions? For their color?" she asks, then pauses. "Wait. On the skin? Not on a canvas?" He is full of tricks!

"Ginger? It's lovely on the tongue, but would it be too hot elsewhere? The nettles can be quite intense…" she admits, cheeks pinkening slightly and followed by a slight shifting on her seat.

"Dandelions have a sticky sap inside them." Vespasien explains, "Properly mixed with the correct colors it allows for a very interesting texture of paint that sticks to the skin. Stretchy, in a way, so.. it is wonderful for use at length." he continues.

"Ginger has a particular sting to it. Particularly to reddened flesh." he teases, as he continues to stare at the empty piece of wood.

<FS3> Vespasien rolls Draw/paint: Good Success. (2 1 5 5 1 1 1 8 1 8)

Now he's gone and got her curious. The scamp. "Stretchy? Oh, that would keep the paint from cracking, wouldn't it? If it was worn for a while. And it wouldn't be as messy as mixing grease and pigment." Which is, give or take, about the extend of her knowledge of painting. "I was born to Eglantine House before the spiced candy brought me to Valerian." she explains, glancing to her work and settling to it, pushing and pulling the sharp metal needle through the cloth the begin forming a petal.

"Perhaps, Monsieur…" She glances at him and tries to hide a little smile, "You will bring some ginger root for your next visit? The nettles will be ready soon. It's best fresh."

"It sounds as if that is a request, and I am loathe to deny it." Vespasien explains, "I will bring fresh ginger with me next time. I'm sure you will not be sorry… or maybe you will be, just in the ways that enjoy most." he teases again as he begins to paint.

It starts with a single stroke of color. A look towards Ysabeau as he once more studies her face- the way she looks at him. The way she looks at her work. A languid, lazy brush stroke to follow.

"It is, if I am allowed to make them." She teases back, lashes lowering briefly before rising partway. The light blush darkens ever so slightly. It isn't for shame, or embarrassment, but a marker of the way her thoughts stray. Managing to distract herself from her needlework enough to poke one of her fingers with a little hiss. She, of course, does not use a thimble.

Not wanting to mark the fabric, she examines her fingertip, a tiny dot of red on the skin where an itty bitty bead of blood is. "The only regret is an adventure not had." she says, a sly little grin settling on her face as she watches him.

"I've asked you to do what you want when you want, as it applies to us." Vespasien says, with gentle and quiet smile. "That request stands until otherwise rescended. It is the rule between us." Vespasien offers quietly, as he looks over to her when she hisses. "You are okay?" he asks, noticing the blood. Of course she's fine- but the question is asked all the same.

He pauses his painting just to ensure she's well.

"I've had more interesting pokes." Ysabeau teases, briefly sucking in her fingertip, then inspecting it again to make sure it won't make a mess on the fine linen. "It's an unusual request, you know. I'm not used to having such, mmm, freedoms with patrons. I wonder, if I will find a limit or ask too much and lose your favor."

"What are your preferences, Monsieur? To what is the needle of your compass most drawn?" Curious, the needlework set aside for the moment as she turns to face him more fully.

"I got the feeling it might be outside of the usual for you, yes." Vespasien explains, "But, I prefer softer themes of control." he explains, "More beautiful is the flower that is only guided to grow in a particular direction, and not forced. Allow it to blossom. And we, here, are the flowers. I should like to see what blossoms." he explains.

"That being said, my proclivities do tend towards a particular power dynamic. I simply do not feel the need to be a tyrant."

"It's different, but enjoyable. It's like suggesting a pigment or a thread, and then letting us use them as we will to create. I can suggest a blindfold and a rope, but it is still in your hands how it is used. What it creates." Her smile softens subtly, "You're right. Not everyone need be a tyrant. Your way is rather peaceful, in a fashion, delightful and mutually satisfying."

Picking up the round frame of her embroidery, she makes sure she didn't get a spot of blood on it, then begins again, this time taking more care to watch the needle and her fingers. "Do you have a favorite pigment?" She asks, curious and following the same thread as their chosen crafts.

"That is what I hope it leads to." Vespasien says, "More important is that we both have fun. That we both find enjoyment and succor." he explains, "That both sides of the coin are used. Passion, pain, pleasure.. all of them are required." he says, as he continues to paint- it appears to be very much a feminine form at this point. One that follows the lines of Ysabeau's body.

"I am fond of blue." Vespasien replies, "And silver. The stars and the sea."

"Mm, both sides and the edge, to make a whole coin." she muses, "I think, perhaps…" she pauses, midstitch, with the needle poking up through the linen. "Yes. I think next, should be aboard a boat. Something small enough that we won't need a crew to get to a nice place. Let the sea guide our wants. Perhaps, an all day voyage to a nice place where the stars are bright." Her lips twitch into a smile at the thought.

"What do you think, Monsieur? A lovely little boat in a lovely little place, without nothing but what is on the boat to serve to our needs?"

"I can make that happen." Vespasien replies. "A small cutter. Shouldn't be too difficult." he says, "We can sail out for a few hours, bring food with us. There should be a small cabin. Lay out under the stars- a lovely way to spend a weekend." he says simply, "Yes. A lovely idea."

"We will meet then, and go for a lovely sail." Vespasien says.

An expensive assignation, to steal her away for a weekend, but that part of it doesn't seem to really matter to her. There is no spark of greed in her gaze, just that warm smile.

"A perfect weekend with a fantastic companion. It'd be lovely to get away from these walls without escort." she admits, looking to her embroidery.

"What would you wish me to bring?" she asks, tilting her head to peek at the birch he is painting, taking in the shape of the feminine figure and blushing lightly.

"Yourself, primarily. And whatever else you wish to bring. Food that you enjoy. Wine that you enjoy. Toys that you enjoy." Vespasien says as he continues to quietly paint- his attention on her as much as it his his painting. The figure becoming more floral as other colors are added to the painting. A woman or a rose- it was difficult to tell. Both, it seems.

What truly stands out, though, are the eyes of green- such beautiful green eyes on the woman who's form he's apparently so enchanted with.

"A variety, then. Just a few. I think…" Words falter as she studies the blooming woman, cheeks flushing darker. "I think your hands, in truth, would be more than enough." she admits, raising her gaze from his work to his face. "I like the feel of your strength. It's…" There's a breath in, then out as she tries to find the right words.

"Patient, but unforgiving. Demanding without casual cruelty. Purposeful. I rather like it." Even if it is unusual, the terms of their agreement. "It's a treat to be able to choose.I think I will bring a few lengths of silk, and naught else."

"Always better is the flower given room to bloom in her own way." Vespasien offers quietly, "With only the gardener's eye and encouragement to guide her." He offers simply. "I have expectations of you, but we haven't known eachother long enough for you to fully realize them. That, however, is part of the fun. Discovering those things. Learning those things. I hope to be pleasantly surprised by what we find." he says with a quiet smile.

The lovely floral maiden continues to develop and grow on his wooden painting surface- more colors, more small details. To Ysabeau, it would be clear she is the model- although there is a certain artistic license taken by the nobleman.

He pauses a moment to lean back and look at his work as it develops- letting some of the paint dry as he sips at his wine.

"I know two of them, for certain." she murmurs to his expectations. "To do as I will, then urge strikes, and to let the words fall from my lips as they form. To speak of the things as I experience them."

"I also imagine there is some… need for at least an effort towards what you wish. That even if I fail, I do my very best to give you what you seek." Though that may be a fairly universal expectation.

A glance is given to his glass, to the wine within, then back to his work of the petal-woman, the little red rose. "Is this how you see me?" she asks, studying the shapes and how they come together. Embroidery is an art as much as a menial skill, and fitting the shapes, following the lines is something she incorporates into the textures of her works.

"A blooming flower of exquisite beauty?" Vespasien wonders quietly. "Yes." he answers then, as he continues to lean back and look at his painting as it develops- not adding anything more for the moment. "You have intoxicated me. Enchanted me." he says, "More so than any strong drink. I want to breath you in. Know every line… and see where you will go when your heart is not tightly chained. What you will do, given more freedom than perhaps you are used to. When you are given room to create."

The embroidery is set aside, tucked into the basket, the needle woven into the linen so it won't fall away and get lost. "Completely unbound, I think I would lose purpose beyond my sewing." Knowing all too well she's liable to fall into her passion of cloth and thread, without a way to maintain direction or discipline. To be reminded to come out and see the sun and brush the bits of trim out of her hair.

"But a Marque completed, with guidance to help keep me on track? I think I would do well." she says thoughtfully, all too aware of her limits and her failings.

"And gladly will I guide, if you wish it." Vespasien replies, "I do believe we both know the answer to that, though." he says, afterwards as he leans in to start painting again- adding more details to the woman on this plank of birchwood. More small details that speak of Ysabeau. "We will see what the future brings, though. It does not yet exist, so the possibilities are endless."

"What better than a Compass for a Rose?" Yeah, she just did that. And the mischief in her eyes is bright and sparkling. "It will be a year, likely, before my Marque is completed. Maybe less. I have time to perfect my gowns and learn what is wanted, expected of me, Monsieur." she says, looking pleased with the notion - as much as the terrible, terrible pun.

"When do you wish to plan for the weekend? I think the color and the fabric I bring should be chosen with care, even as just lengths to be creative with. Black is too dark, white and red too cliche. Perhaps a varied blue like the sky, with little rhinestones to stud it." To itch and gently scrape and scratch.

"That sounds lovely, Cherie. Something with just a touch of bite." The pun doesn't get a specific reply- but he does smile at it. And, indeed, in the lovely woman's hand a tiny detail is added to his painting- a compass. A nod to her jest, clearly.

Something to add a personal touch to the painting.

"Let us say not this weekend, but next? I have been asked to act as a painter at a fete this weekend. SOmething about glass. Anyways, you should come as my assistant." he suggests, "I will teach you about painting on various surfaces. Glass is particularly interesting as a medium." he says, "And the paint must be prepared for it to set properly. Very slick." he notes.

"Blue is always lovely. But, red is a color that suits you well- it matches your eyes. Red and Green are companions, always."

Ysabeau oh's! "That sounds perfect. I had planned to attend the fete as well. I've been working on something special and utterly, delightfully lewd." she chirps, biting her lower lip. "It would be an honor to attend as your assistant and learn about the pigments. Do you want me to make you something to wear? I'm making a net of chains and faceted glass beads. It doesn't hide anything, but it should be like dew on a spider's web. Meant to conceal by distracting the eye. So I can be nearly nude, yet not seen as such."

As she speaks, she leans in, as if sharing a secret with a trusted confidante - knowing he'll understand the play of texture and color across a canvas. "What do you think? I'm planning on using clear beads, so it looks like rain or water. Or is that too subtle?"

"Yes. I think I'd like that." Vespasien says, then, "I trust your creativity. However- for both yourself and myself.. " he looks over to her with a bit of a wicked grin. "Easy access." he says.

"And yes, glass beads of that sort would be lovely- the way they would change the look of your skin. If you wear them correctly they'd be just like water- refracting the light delightfully. Playing on your skin. If you colored a few- light blue- it might further add to the feel of water." he suggests, "And I would stagger the sizes. Raindrops are never uniform."

"I think it would look excellent, though, cherie." Vespasien offers as he continues to paint.

Brightening, she nods, taking note of the suggestions for her costume. "Mm, I don't think we need to worry about the access. And I…" her cheeks blush a lovely rosey shade. "I made a little bent wire clip to hold a larger stone to Naamah's Pearl. I expect there to be quite a feast of decadence to partake in."

The smile is infectious, still in that conspiratorial way. "Unless Monsieur would enjoy my company the most?" she asks, curious to see what the answermight be.

"Well, as long as access is no issue." Vespasien says, "I have nothing else to add." he offers, that gentle 'suggestion' all he had to offer regarding the costume. "And yes, I imagine there will be quite the feast. I wouldn't deny you your enjoyment- but, I do think I would enjoy your staying close." he says, "Particularly if you are to be my assistant. Still, that could very well mean that you assist me with my models in particularly decadent ways, doesn't it?" he looks over to her with that wicked smile there still.

Ysabeau laughs! "I would not think to go to assist you and then leave you with too many models and not enough hands to get the job done. And it wouldn't be the first time I have shared a plate with someone. A fete just means there is more to savor and enjoy."

"As your assistant, I'll stick with you until released of my duty." she promises, not wanting to leave him without help. "I wonder… do you think it would be well to find a decoration for my, well… A pretty glass," she blushes darkly. "plug, for my bottom to match the jewel?" she's nearly whispering, blushing bright.

Vespasien looks quietly over to Ysabeau. "I think we can make that happen, yes." he says, "I know a glass-blower in town who helps me with my lenses. I will put an order in." he says, as if it wasn't much of anything. Of course, nobility- even an unlanded nobility- tends to have money.

"I think I'd rather like to play with that. And the one on your pearl." he teases, "Yes.. I do think I'd enjoy that very much." he admits, smiling still. "Then it is settled, for the fete you will stay close and both assist and entertain me."

The gift is unexpected, the girl's eyes widening before she impulsively leans to press a kiss to a scruffy cheek."And I will wear it with pride, and keep it in a box special, just for when you visit." The words whispered near his ear as she leans back.

"It will be amazing,I'm sure of it. What will you be doing? It sounds like painting the people?" Curious. Checking his wine glass, she tops it off, pouring a glass of white for herself and plucking a couple of grapes to nibble on from her snack plate, nudging the plate towards him.

Vespasien's head turns just so as she leans in to kiss- a subtle offer of himself to her show of affection. "Thank you." he replies, again sincere as he lifts his glass of wine to sip quietly. He looks to the grapes. "Oh, I haven't eaten in…" his eyebrows knit together. "At least a day." he mentions- likely lost in his own world. Locked in his science and his art- he takes a few grapes and eats quietly. "Sweet." he mentions, sounding appreciative of the grapes.

His painting seems to be sitting again as he fiddles with his paints. "Do you have a favorite color?" he wonders of her quietly.

"I do that, too. Disappear for three days, working day and night. Stagger out, in need of a bath and a meal, and an assignation before the Second makes faces at me for slacking on my Marque."

"I can have more brought, or a proper meal? I usually nibble while I'm working, or I forget to eat entirely. There's almost always something in the kitchen, and if you have a preference, I can see to it that you're… sated." Lofting a brow to tease him gently.

"Colors are… wonderful. I love them all, even muddied browns and oranges that most would turn their nose up at. But a favorite?" Hmm! "Greens, some blues, purples. And that dark red that almost looks black. It's hard to find, and I've never seen it on cloth. The color of dried blood, black-but-not."

Vespasien nods quietly, memorizing those words as he leans in to paint again- his painting coming to a point of completion. He adds a few more touches before he just leans back to let it dry. "I will ask which color is easiest, then, for glass." he mentions as he takes another few grapes and lets them burst in his mouth. "Yes, a meal might be wise. It has been at least a day." he notes, giving a wave of his hand, "Surprise me."

"Like a gemstone, perhaps the light blue to match the clear and light blue beads for the costume?" she suggests. "Unless you wanted something more… every day wear?" Rising, she moves to speak with one of the novices that act as servants. Sending them off, she returns to her place, checking his wine glass - the act almost a habit, now.

A few moments after the request is made, a pair of plates are brought on a tray, one laden with sliced meat, a refreshingly light salad, and a side of strawberries and more grapes. The other is lighter fare, salad and berries, with a pair of hardboiled eggs to the side.

"You are too easy to enjoy attending to. I do believe I have gotten lucky that you found your way to the Salon through the open door."

"Truth be told, I probably need someone to attend to me." The lord offers in an honest statement. "Blue then. Blue I know is easy." he offers to the young woman, looking at the food on the tray. Quiet a long moment again, just studying the plating- how everything is offered. He sips his wine, and resets his painting out of the way.

"While eat again, be aware." Vespasien says- his go-to 'suggestion', it seems. "It looks excellent." he then says, "Thank you." again ensuring she knows he is thankful for this care.

"Everyone needs a 'north', I think. Something to keep them pointed in the right direction. I imagine you have the trouble, I think, many Lords do. Too much time and coin and not enough to keep you wholly engaged. I know, for instance, that my love of clothing and cloth could sustain me, but I also know that alone, I would get lost in the thing I love and forget to take care of simple tasks, like seeing to having laundry sent out, or the hiring of someone to attend to it."

"Is it wrong to see people as pieces of a whole? Some fit together, some can try to fit, can almost fit, and some simply should go together, like silk and peasants cloth. It makes no sense for such a pairing.

"Everyone needs a 'north', I think. Something to keep them pointed in the right direction. I imagine you have the trouble, I think, many Lords do. Too much time and coin and not enough to keep you wholly engaged. I know, for instance, that my love of clothing and cloth could sustain me, but I also know that alone, I would get lost in the thing I love and forget to take care of simple tasks, like seeing to having laundry sent out, or the hiring of someone to attend to it."

"Is it wrong to see people as pieces of a whole? Some fit together, some can try to fit, can almost fit, and some simply should not go together, like silk and peasants cloth. It makes no sense for such a pairing.

Vespasien nods, as he begins to eat- happy to listen to Ysabeau's sweet voice, it seems. He certainly was hungry- even if he didn't realize it until this moment. "Mm. No, I don't think that is wrong. There is a foreign myth that says that once all people were born with two heads, four arms, four legs. Two people in one- in perfect harmony. They claim the gods split these people, fearing their power. Two halves of one soul torn apart- forever searching for it's other half."

"It might be something like this- sometimes people just click. They get along well. They fit the need of each other and are complementary." He sounds to agree with the idea.

"However, now comes the question- do you believe that you and I are pieces of a whole… and if so, what type?"

"That's beautifully tragic. And explains some people that are driven to travel, to wander every corner of the world, searching for something. Not everyone can find what they need at home." She considers. "In fact, I would say, most can't even acknowledge what it is that they need. Want, maybe, but not need."

"You and I? I think it is interesting that you would admit to needing to be looked after, cared for and tended to, where I would need to be reminded of directions and guidance. Different sides of the same coin, I think. Most patrons have a need, and they come here when it bubbles up and cannot be denied. They repress it until they cannot. Or they seek to conceal their nature from loved ones that would not be able to handle what it is they crave." She can only speak from the Valerian aspect of things, her own nature skewing the conversation. "Whereas you seem to compliment and enhance. Embrace these things, with enough confidence to admit to a weakness."

"It is." Vespasien says, "Total nonsense, but nonsense can make the most beautiful stories." He listens intently to Ysabeau's words, nodding slowly. Quietly. He eats and absorbs those words the same as he eats the food she's supplied to him. "Perhaps it is shame. Perhaps fear of the self.." he wonders aloud. "Or, over confidence in their self-knowledge. I know very little." he admits, "In the grand scheme of things, I know almost nothing." he shrugs, "I am just aware of this fact. A condition all mortals share. We know very, very little."

"Anyways, there is beauty in weakness. In flaws. In the imperfect nature of living." Vespasien says as he drinks more of his wine. "Anyways, if I met a perfect being, I'm not sure I'd be able to recognize them." he offers off hand.

"So then, you would say you and I are two sides of a coin?" He presses the question to ensure clarity.

Finally, the adept reaches for her plate, once it is clear that he is enjoying the meal. Starting with a sweet strawberry, she chews thoughtfully as she listens to his words. "That is true. And it isn't fair to paint people with broad strokes of a brush when every person is unique, as is their circumstance. It isn't my position, as a servant of Naamah, to look too closely at why someone needs the release and relief a Valerian can bring, it is to be the balm that they need in the moment. To yield."

"Beauty can be found anywhere that someone is willing to look, I think. Some might, for instance, think me too bold for a red rose, while others might wish me be bolder. It is a matter of receptiveness to an idea. I wouldn't get very far as a seamstress or a rose, if I weren't willing to try new things." Her train of thought meanders, wandering - the original point lost as she chases the different threads like a kitten in a spinner's home.

Realizing her diversions along the way, she offers a sheepish smile. "I think so. One side is a navigator, the other enjoys tending to needs. So you might be inclined to point the point, and forget yourself, while I would not forget you, but I would lose my way. My direction."

"Then I suppose it is a very good thing I am so enchanted by you, cherie." Vespasien says, on her final point. "It sounds as if the feeling is mutual. I'm glad to hear it. It is true, though. I would forget myself. I do not forget my pets, or my responsibilities- but myself. I often forget myself and gladly will I point you in the direction I think is best, with only desire to see you flourish in those directions." he offers, as if it were a solemn promise. He takes careful consideration of his words, after all.

Vespasien puts aside the food now, "So, what new thing will we try this evening?" he wonders of her quietly, "What little desire is niggling at the back of your mind?" he asks of her, eyes falling on her's with a certain curious desire. His look for her.

Ysabeau pauses in the eating of her lighter meal, the tip of her fork tapping her lips in thought as she considers his answer, and her response. "I think… that tonight I want to tend to your needs. Learn the direction that your compass points. Last night you allowed me to choose. Tonight it would please me to learn to follow your lead."

This is offered before she takes the next bite of the mixed greens, lightly crisp against her tongue and teeth - some bitter, some sweet, some mild. The dressing is light and tangy, nothing that will weigh a stomach down in the heat of summer. "Does this please you, Monsieur?"

"Yes." Vespasien offers quietly, "It would please me." he says, "But you already know that I prefer course corrections to outright leading- still. I do have something up my sleeve." he notes as he reaches into hsi always present bag to pull out some fresh ginger root. "We'll need a private location." he states, "Let's find one."

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