Obliviously Innocent [Open]

[Alexander Darell]

» Soft wind danced down the road, mingling with the groups of people and those who chose to walk alone. The road was rather wide, especially for the time period, with packed dirt making it almost as hard as the cobblestone floors of the palace. Not that the small boy standing to the left side of the highway would know what that felt like, to walk on the floors of a palace. Soft brown eyes looked off to the side, not really paying attention to where their host was walking, but instead viewing the landscape around the highway. The brush was close to the banks of the road, so close as if it was on the eve of over running it, and here were trees beyond that.

» Thin lips parted over white teeth, a smile for the forest. Home. Safety. Refuge. An almost overwhelming desire to return to the sanctuary of the forest crashed over the young boy, but he knew he had nothing to fear. His head turned back to the road, a horse neighing had pulled him out of his thoughts. He knew that Uther had let go of his hatred for all things magical, so he knew he was safe, even if he wanted to return the forest. He had a job to do, anyway. He needed to find a certain herb for one of the druid medics—you could call it—back home. He needed freshly oiled aloe vera, or better yet, an actual plant. His mind ran through the properties of the herbal medicine; typically clear or creamish brown in color, heals burns and wounds. The plant would be easy to spot; Alexander knew exactly what the plant would look like. He determined that he’d look for the plant in the market first, hopefully he’d find one. The druids made medicine; especially those based on herbs, so much better than everyone else; their methods were just simply better, more practiced perhaps, but better nevertheless.

» Shadows danced across the babyish face of the boy, who was now walking slowly toward the city of Camelot. This would be his first entrance into the city alone, but even though he was slightly nervous, excitement bounced through out his system. His cloak’s hood was up to guard his pale skin from the worst of the harsh rays of sunlight, and the rest billowed behind him like a dark green cloud. His cotton shirt fell loosely around his shoulders, and his dark brown trousers were slightly tattered around the bottoms near his ankles. His feet were donned by leather sandals, ones the druids had made for him.

» Alexander Darell still held a smile on his face, cheery and giddy about being able to go to town by himself now, he was in high spirits. The child had confidence in his step, an air of certainty and a smile that showed excitement. Yet, this small boy, one who barely looked older than ten years old, was alone on the highway. Unarmed, defenseless, and oblivious, or so it seems from the outside looking in. Someone could easily take advantage of him, possibly, or think he is an orphan. Alex himself thought of none of this, the dangers of the highway crossing his mind not once, and he continued his trek towards Camelot city.

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[Branna Kerry]

One of the downsides of living alone as a craftswoman in Camelot was that there was no one to send out to do your errands. So when Branna started running low on firewood, she had to go fetch it herself from the forest that ran right up the city walls. Having heard the pervasive rumors of strange creatures and druids in the woods, she chose her timing carefully. She'd left at dawn, one of the first out of the gates, and had been careful to damage no living wood, only taking from dead wood that had fallen naturally. The logs she gathered she stacked neatly, then wrapped in the length of twine she'd carried. It took only a few hours to gather as much as she needed. Hoisting her load up on to her back, she set off back towards Camelot.

The Kingsway was growing crowded as the day wore on, more and more people moving in and out of the flourishing city. Most were peasants, or merchants such as herself, traveling in groups or alone. The few children she saw were clearly attached to their family groups, so the small, cloaked figure walking alone caught her attention. His garb was unusual enough - cloaks like that being a fairly rare sight even now that magic was no longer banned. Although normally averse to social niceties, Branna found her curious mind would not let her simply ignore the young traveler, so she quickened her pace to walk next to him.

"Good day, young master. Do you travel alone to the city?"

[Alexander Darell]

» The hustle and bustle of the carts wheeling and the people hurriedly walking and the horses hooves beating the earth were weird to the small boy used to much more serene sounds like whistling birds and dead leaves crackling under the soft treading of his family. Lost in thought, the small druid hadn’t noticed he had company in the form of a lady. Her clothes were slightly disgruntled and she carried what seemed like a heavy load of logs. Alex immediately thought of fire wood; was this woman a slave or servant? He couldn’t place his finger on it, but something about her didn’t fit the puzzle of ‘servant’. She also was built larger than most women Alex knew, especially the small, fragile-looking females in the druid camp. Not to say this woman was fat, but she was stocky, muscled.

» That meant hard work, with the wood that meant fire…the lady had to have been some sort of smithy. Curious, Alex’s head listed slightly to the left, and his brown eyes lifted up to meet the woman’s. A smile played across his face at the woman, who then spoke to him. The sound was closer than anything else, loud in his ear, and harsher than he was used to hearing. The Druids used much softer tones of speech, so as to not disturb the woodland creatures that either rested in the trees above them or scurried about the forest floor.

» “Good day, young master. Do you travel alone to the city?”

» Master? He was no master, surely. He was just a druid in training, barely able to come to the city alone. He had learned some magic, but it wasn’t like he was able to match anyone else in the camp. Master was truly not the word to describe Alex, but not knowing social etiquette, especially within the city, Alex decided to not speak about it. “Yes, milady, I venture into the city for herbs.” His voice softly rang out from his throat, slightly-high pitched still, but with the small signs of deepening. He nodded slightly once before looking back up to her. Not knowing hat else to say, Alex subsided into silence and turned his head to look back to the road.

» Without knowing what else to say and to scared to ask the working lady any questions, Alex let his mind wander back to the question of what social ranking this lady was. Servant wasn’t right; he could feel that about her, she held some sort of air that spoke of something higher. This lady was more than a servant, so did that mean she was nobility? Yet, why would they send a noblewoman out to the woods to fetch tinder? Alex was confused, and his eye brows furrowed closer together as he thought about it. His hood bounced lightly with each step, and Alex seemed to have changed his pace in walking. It was slightly faster now, maybe in an attempt to keep up with the woman next to him.

» Alexander hadn’t noticed that he was feeling a little bit lonely walking alone. The presence of someone next to him gave him comfort, something he hadn’t expected from someone other than a Druid. Slightly shocked by this realization, he looked back up to the woman next to him. Her long dark hair reminded him of a lady back home; one who was able to move trees. That power had always fascinated Alex, and he had constantly asked her to do it. This Druid was someone who was well respected for guarding the camp from unwanted visitors, both human and not. Maybe that was the reason he felt safe around this particular lady, maybe.

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[Branna Kerry]

Branna felt her lips curving in to a warm smile, an expression she was not entirely used to wearing. There was an air of peace about the young boy, far different from the undercurrent of frenetic energy that characterized most of the city folk she came in contact with. They were always so busy, eager to get to the next item on their to-do list, rarely if ever interested in talking to her more than necessary to place their order. This young boy, though, seemed content to simply walk, to arrive whenever his feet brought him, and to enjoy the journey. It was a refreshing sort of difference.

She could tell he was a bit perplexed by her means of address. By force of necessity she'd learned proper courtly manners, so she would not entirely embarrass herself when she presented some of her finer works before the royalty of the city. It did not happen often, but one could never be too prepared. The term "young master" was simply the all-purpose address for a young male of indeterminate social status, the diminutive of "sir" or "my lord." When he returned in kind, addressing her as "milady," she gave a short laugh, shaking her head with a smile.

"I am far from a lady. A simple silversmith, too new to Camelot to have an apprentice for such menial tasks as gathering firewood. You may call me Branna."

Even the boy's voice was different, softer and more musical than the harsh tones of the city. Then again, Branna's own voice carried the lilt of the northern country, one of the many reason she chose more often than not to stay quiet in mixed company. Many in Camelot held less than charitable views of the north, and those who dwelt there. Yet she doubted a druid, for that was surely what the boy was, would care much for origins. Despite Uther's new leniency towards magic, druids still faced what she felt was unfair prejudice, far beyond anything she herself had experienced.

[Alexander Darell]

» A small laugh crawled from the woman’s throat, and the sound wasn’t disheartening in the least. It wasn’t a laugh that degraded, but a laugh that lifted spirits. Alex wandered if she knew she had such a laugh; most people, in his experience, walked around with natural gifts they took for granted. The small laugh was short lived, though, and the lady introduced her self.

» “I am far from a lady. A simple silversmith, too new to Camelot to have an apprentice for such menial tasks as gathering firewood. You may call me Branna.”

» Branna’s voice held an accent that Alex hadn’t noticed before. He brushed it off as to being unprepared when she spoke the first time. Her name and voice were testament to her national ethnicity. A northerner, an outcast here. Well, that was the norm anyway; the people in Camelot typically didn’t mingle with the northern folk. Another thing that tied the two together, Alex smiled up at her again. He was slightly less guarded now, but still weary, “Pleasure to meet you, Branna. I am Alexander.” He was curious now as to what a silversmith was, exactly. His brown eyes fell under his thin lashes and he looked at the ground, embarrassed by his lack of knowledge.

» “If I may, what is a silversmith?” The question was softly inquired, as was everything the young druid boy said, but this was softer still. People around them seemed to pay them no mind, which Alex rather enjoyed. It was enough to be noticed by one person, he didn’t want everyone asking him questions. He guessed right, though, in thinking she was a smith of some kind. This was just one he wasn’t familiar with. Not to say the young child knew much about any type of smithy, he just didn’t know exactly what silversmiths…well smith.

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[Branna Kerry]

"Pleasure to meet you, Alexander," she answered, with only the slightest hint of irony at the standard polite response in her voice. It always struck her as oddly annoying that every new acquaintance started with the same set of rote pleasantries, no matter what differences there might be in the different relationships. She'd used much the same words in greeting her next door neighbor, her landlord, and the servant in the stable.

Fortunately, it seemed as if this conversation would skirt quickly past the opening stage. The boy, Alexander, chimed in with a question before she had the chance to ask one of her own - namely, whether or not he was actually a druid, as she suspected.

"If I may, what is a silversmith?"

Although Alexander's voice was quiet, forcing Branna to pay close attention, its high pitch carried easily enough, despite the noise of the other travelers. His question was not an uncommon one. Her profession was a rare one, since most of what she made was purely decorative, or luxury items, and therefore she catered almost exclusively to the nobility. Fortunately, Camelot had plenty of those, along with merchants almost as wealthy who wished to dress above their station.

"I'm much like any other blacksmith, but I specialize in working with silver. I do work with other metals as well, gold, copper, even iron and steel occasionally. I make jewelry, cutlery, decorations, some tools - no weapons, though. I used to make weapons, but... well, not anymore." Her voice was cheerful and light as she discussed her profession, but dropped at the end. She managed to avoid trailing off into an awkward silence, but it was a close thing. "I like making beautiful things, even if they're not always particularly useful."

[Alexander Darell]

» The silversmith Branna was very well mannered, especially for a merchant, lower class. Alex liked this woman already, she was nice and friendly. She talked to him freely, and seemed to be interested in answering his question. She seemed to pay close attention to what Alex said, straining to hear what he said. Either because she was interested in hearing what he said or his voice was softer than she was used to. Whichever the meaning, Alex was elated that the lady wanted to speak with him. The feeling of friendship was wondrous.

» Alex reflected on that for a moment. He never thought that he would find friendship outside his family of Druids. There, the friendships were not mandatory, but expected. They were always friends, best of friends. Trust and honesty were something always given no matter what through out the Druids, without it they couldn’t have functioned they way they do. Everyone knew that, so this comradeship with Branna, someone who was not a druid, was because she liked Alex…or at least found him interesting. This was something new, a feeling he wasn’t used to. Knowing that she had the ability to dislike him made it that much more charitable.

» However, Alex didn’t have much time to deliberate his thoughts, for she was talking. Much like any of blacksmith, meaning she smelted and molded metals into fine objects? She told him she specialized in silver, but was able to craft gold, copper, and iron as well. Impressed, Alex smiled up towards her, missing the sad ending to her small speech, but lingered on her making beautiful objects.

» “Tis very interesting, miss Branna.” Alex complimented, nodding his head once again. It was custom to the Druids to nod their head during conversation, a way to say they are genuine in their motives and speech.

» “What kinds of beautiful things do you make?” Alex’s dark brown eyes held curiosity and innocence in them, he really was just a child despite his mature demeanor.

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[Branna Kerry]

Branna found herself smiling again. She couldn't recall the last time she'd smiled so much in such a short period of time. He just seemed to bring out her good nature. He seemed genuinely interested in what she did - a rarity unto itself - and was peaceful, non-judgmental company. There was no hint of condescension because she wasn't nobility, or criticism of a woman doing what was generally a man's job. Only open, cheerful acceptance.

"What kinds of beautiful things do you make?" Alexander asked, all charm and innocence. Branna thought for a long moment before answering, her mind flicking through images of the hundreds of items she'd crafted. From the mundane to the decorative to the extravagant, and everything in between.

"Well... all sorts of things. Whatever my customer wants, usually, although I do indulge my creativity occasionally. Right now I am working on the gifts I plan to present to the royal family at the next feast. A tiara for the Lady Morgana, a brooch for Prince Arthur, and a goblet for the king. I can show them to you once we reach Camelot, if you like." The goblet wasn't finished yet, and the brooch still lacked it's ruby centerpiece, but the tiara was on display in her shop.

[Alexander Darell]

» Branna took her time answering this question, which seemed to just increase the young boy’s interest on the subject. What kind of things did she make? She had said that she wouldn’t make weapons, if not weapons, what else was made from melted metal? What beautiful things could be forges from liquid? Brown eyes swept down from the woman’s face to watch the road in front of their host; Camelot was slowly growing larger in scale and getting closer at the same time. A feeling of elation and excitement washed over the young boy again; the feeling of being on the trip alone raked over his skin. Yet, he was only alone in the fact that he was the only Druid going to the city this time, people crowded around him loosely, headed for the same city he was. Then, there was Branna, easy to talk to and who had a comforting air about her—surely, he wasn’t alone.

» She made objects of value for royalty! How grand that must be, Alex thought to himself, and he couldn’t help but smile up to the lady towering above him. The brooch interested him the most, for it was for Prince Arthur. The man who Alex modeled his hair style after. An idol, a hero. Someone he wasn’t to be influenced by, but secretly adored like every other young boy in Camelot. Everyone wanted to be like Arthur; charming, dashingly handsome, and a great swordsman.

» “I can show them to you once we reach Camelot, if you like.”

» Alex’s eyes lit up at the invitation. He really wanted to see these works of beauty he was sure they were. He looked up at Branna, eyes dancing with excitement, “That would be lovely, miss Branna.” He proclaimed, nodding his head again. His smile lingered on his face for a while, and then it faded into a thin line of regret. “But, it’ll would have to wait. I must get the aloe first.” He looked away, forlorn that he may not be able to see the masterpieces. He really wanted to, and he wanted to see Branna again. He had to do his duty first, though; he would not return to camp empty handed.

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