Making The Rounds [Open]

[Guinevere Thomas]

Flittering around the room as Guinevere often did when her mistress was out, the young woman picked up a few errant shoes that had decided to play hide and seek with her, and gathered what little washing she had to deposit in the laundries.

One thing working for the Lady Morgana, and she often felt sympathy for Merlin in this respect, the lady was a tidy young woman. Unlike Arthur. Not that Arthur was a young woman but well she and a few other servants were fairly certain that, without his manservant, there wouldnt be a floor in the Prince's room. At least not a visible one.

Gwen usually had to locate a shoe or such that had gone missing, it had been a necklace one time, and gather the lady's sleeping clothes for washing. She brought and put away the clean washing when it was finished, and made sure the chamber was clean in general.

Today she had brought a vase of flowers along with her, ones she herself had picked, and placed them on the lady's vanity with a smile. Morgana always appreciated when she did small things like that. She then went about making the bed.

Straightening the edges,rounding the corners, tucking it away. She also had to make a few other beds when she was finished her. Just her part to help out the other servants who were run off their feet. She didnt mind.

[Joscelin Trevalion]

How long had it been since he had been home...? He wondered to himself as he lay abed, staring off toward the open window that admitted light and a stirring breeze. He had decided that it had been far too long. That the unexpected death of his foster-mother should have been something that should have made him leave. Yet, it hadn't...he couldn't. He was here on the task of his Grace and that was to be the eyes and ears within the walls of Camelot for a man interested in the court proceedings of a powerful kingdom.

Camelot...even the name sounded like legend upon his tongue.

Joscelin understood why his King was interested. That and Joscelin had all the right reasons for being here. It would be his final assignment and after this he would be allowed to stay within the Trevalion estate and tend to things closer to home and finally be released of his Grace's grasp, although that's not to say he had loathed the task. In fact, Joscelin had loved it once upon a time ago but things change with time and ever since meeting Sophia Lyonesse, Lady Aslinn Draconis and quite a few others, Joscelin was certain that this was a place better left untouched by his King and unsullied and that mayhap he should do what his foster-mother expected.

He could marry a kind young woman...someone eager to be with him, warm his bed and have his children with time. Someone that would not mind the fact that he rubbed elbows with his servants and enjoyed time with them such as supper, festivities and the sort. He hoped and thought...wondered and imagined...then he shifted and hissed as he pushed his legs out from under the sheets, sitting partly bare and running his hands over her hard stomach where light scars lingered.

The things he had done for his country...

What he didn't expect was a servant girl to enter with the intention of making his bed. Then again, he had slept in rather late and she certainly wouldn't have expected him and much less the somewhat messy room with his things scattered here or there. The desk covered in sheets of parchments, envelopes here and there, two chests and a scattering of rich fabric and trinkets. There was even a knife embedded in the mantel over the fireplace where a wooden figurine lay unfinished.

[Guinevere Thomas]

[No not at all. Welcome! ]

Having finished in the Lady Morgana's chambers, Guinevere headed off, intent on the kitchens when she ran into a young male who looked frazzled. He explained that he had to help one of the Knights and wouldnt be able to service the room he had been assigned. With a smile, Gwen told him she'd take care of it. After a few rushed 'thank you's' the man ran off and she turned on her heel to find the room.

It didnt take long at all and she knocked on the wooden door. When she garnered no response, she assumed the occupant had left already, and pushed the door open to enter. Another thing that didnt take her long was to realise someone was indeed in the room once she had stepped into it.

"A-Apologies my lord," she said, inclining her head and curtsying quickly to the man. She kept her eyes down out of respect. "I didnt think anyone would still be in here," she added. "Most are up and about by now." That caused her to backpedal. And fast.

"No-Not that Im saying youre lazy or anything, I mean, you're a lord you're allowed to stay in bed as long as you want..... its just most like to be up early for breakfast and perhaps join the knights and prince in their training..... Though Prince Arthur usually is a little bit late thanks to Merlin sleeping in."

It was at this point Gwen realised she was rambling. There it was again. That lovely inability she had to string together a sentence without embarrassing herself. "Anyway, I am here to clean your room," she finished finally, deciding it was perhaps better if she just got on with it. Approaching the desk, she began to straighten out the papers on it, avoiding looking at them too closely. It wasnt her job to pry and she wasnt going to be rude.

[Joscelin Trevalion]

Hadn't he locked the door the night before? Apparently not. He had to be more mindful and careful with what sort of sensitive information he allowed to lay out in the open. It wasn't like him...He was slipping up and the realization of that filled his belly with cold dread. He looked to her, searched her face and smiled to himself at how embarassed she must have felt in the moment for Joscelin himself even felt a hint of it. Joscelin swiftly gathered his wits about him then, rallying himself to a moment and taking a deep breath to answer her.

"I fear that you are right, my lady," he confessed. "I have lost track of the time and here I am still in bed," he added and even laughed. "My apologies," he said hastily there and then, hands working to tuck the bedsheet about his bare waist and keep himself covered as he came swiftly to his feet. He looked to her apologetically and bowed his head from his height of six-foot-and-two-inches. It was then to Joscelin's surprise that the woman gathered herself swiftly after her initial shock. It made him smile as he walked past her.

He watched the young woman work with ease and routine then and realized something.

He was terribly messy.

"I must likewise apologize for the mess. I assure you that I am usually much more cleanly, but then...well, I suppose my mind has been elsewhere," he confessed. Yet, why did he go through the pains of apologizing to a servant? Most nobility or royalty certainly would not have but Joscelin was different. His blood was questionable; after all, he was a whore's get and only legitimate because his foster-mother was unable to conceive. In the end, Joscelin had been treated like a stain on his father's name in his youth. He understood the feeling of being treated underneath someone and doubted on every turn. He would never treat someone that way.

"May I ask your name?" He asked suddenly, looking genuinely interested as he moved toward the wardrobe and opened it with one hand whilst the other stood knotted in the sheet that covered him.

[Guinevere Thomas]

All throughout her little babbling session, Gwen had kept her eyes on the floor, but she chanced a glance when he laughed. They darted back to the floor though as he stood and that was when she had moved over to the desk. It was messy, though, she supposed, no more messy than was usual for men. Even Morgana didnt have many papers in her room, but it wasnt expected for the women to handle too many affairs. They were generally left in charge of planning banquets and balls and such things.

Guinevere knew Morgana would resent that speculation, even if it was true. If there was one thing her mistress believed in, it was gender equality. And she went about proving it any time she challenged Prince Arthur with a sword.

Gwen piled the last of the papers up as he apologised. "There's no need for apologies my lord," she replied honestly. The state of his rooms was his own business and, again, she couldnt help thinking of Merlin and Arthur as an example. The entirety of Camelot knew that the Prince thought of his manservant as the worst in history, even if he had magic. Sometimes she wondered if Merlin was trying to train Arthur in cleaning up his own messes by deliberately not doing it. She'd have to ask him one day.

Then she spotted the knife embedded in the wood. Might not do well for the King to see that if he chanced upon this room. Moving over to the mantle, she pulled it free just as she was asked her name. The start at that, plus the momentum of the pulling meant the dagger slipped from her hand and clattered on the floor with a clang Gwen swore echoed.

"Ah, my name is Guinevere," she supplied as she knelt to pick it up, as well as a fallen piece of parchment while she was at it. She then stood and put the parchment on top of the now neat pile. "Though most people call me Gwen."

[Joscelin Trevalion]

One thing that Joscelin did note was that this young woman did not wish to look at him, and whenever she did chance a glance...well, she hastily looked the other way. He did not exactly blame her though; after all, such a thing would have been improper and mayhap Joscelin should have begged a moment of privacy before she attempted her cleaning duties. Then again, she was the one that hastily entered, did she not? Unfortunately, Joscelin should have taken that as a warning and taken the time to clean up his own mess...especially the documents upon his desk. It had skipped his mind entirely though for he had been preoccupied with other thoughts.

Thoughts of home...Thoughts of a life beyond this moment when he was done.

He was distracted as he looked through his wardrobe and then the clang of the blade nearly made him jump. He looked back and to the blade upon the floor, furrowing his brows as he watched her stoop toward it. It was then that she had granted him her name and he stored it away as he did for everyone else.

Guinevere.

It was an attractive name and suitable for the woman before him.

"Guinevere," he breathed out. "Gwen...I truly do like that name," he admitted. "I am Joscelin or Josc I suppose," he said and smiled at her briefly as he removed a shirt from the wardrobe and a pair of fawnskin trousers. It was simple enough...rustic, even. He intended to venture about town to clear his mind for the rest of the day. He carried both articles over to the bed and laid them down. All the while he didn't think about the documents that she had flattened out, much less the last page which was the most important of them all.

Names. Times. Dates. All laid out perfectly and in a particular organization. Except they weren't just names one would imagine to typically find such as royalty but the names of guards and servants alike within the castle proper, even the name of the stablemaster Raryn Ironhoof. There were marks here and there, tallies and comments in a different language. Whether or not she noticed it...well, that was up to fate.

"Do they treat you kindly here, Gwen?" He asked suddenly.

[Guinevere Thomas]

They said the way to hell was paved with good intentions, and Gwen had every good intention of not looking at anything on those pieces of parchment. But she couldnt help it. Especially not when the stablemaster's name jumped out at her. Then a few others, whom she recognised as guards. She didnt stand there and stare though, no, no, that would be rude and extremely obvious. So, she just filed away what she saw in that part of her mind for odd things she gave little thought to, and went about her business.

"Very much so my lord," Guinevere spoke in response to his question. The servants in Camelot weren't exactly mistreated (though Merlin would probably say otherwise), and they often didnt get paid very much attention. It was usually only when they did something wrong that they became the center of attention. For a moment her mind wandered to her father, but Gwen pushed it aside. Now was not the time to be getting sad. Times had changed in Camelot, and she was happy for those people who no longer had to hide for fear of Uther's wrath.

She tucked the dagger away on the table as she gathered a few articles of clothing that had obviously gone walkabout from their masters wardrobe. The rustling of fabric behind her spoke to his preparations to dress, and the blush Gwen had been supressing when she gave her name leaked through somewhat, beginning to colour her cheeks. Perhaps she should have knocked again. Had she known somebody was inside, and in such a state of undress, she wouldnt have entered at all and allowed them time to make themselves presentable. But no. She'd been clumsy in that particular way of hers and now she had to endure it.

"I can come back later if you'd prefer," Gwen said finally, still holding the bundle of discarded clothes in her arms, though she faced the mantle, her eyes resolutely fixed on the half finished figurine. She could take his clothes to the laundry. Yes, she could do that. Then he would be ready when she returned, if he was still in the room at all.

[Joscelin Trevalion]

Joscelin knew from experience that the common noble man or woman could be cruel to those who they deemed lesser than themselves. Joscelin had been the target of such treatment for years as a child for his...well, parentage. Nonetheless, to knoew that Guinevere was treated kindly, which seemed to be the consesus from all of the servants he had spoken to thus far, warmed his heart to the core. The people here were kinder than most. They were not perfect, of course, but they were certainly kind in their ways and soft to treat a servant such as herself and anyone else well enough. So, Joscelin smiled at that and looked thoughtful a she made a mental note to make a mark of it once more, at least until she spoke once more.

"Oh, no, feel free to continue. I shouldn't take that long." He said, assuring her as he hastily had begun to draw on his trousers after discarding the bedsheet that was held in place by his hand. He wasn't exactly left standing bare too long which was fortunate to say the very least. He didn't exactly want to make Guinevere uncomfortable and leave the impression that he was attempting to coax her in any way, shape or form for something more than was proper. Nonetheless, as Joscelin tightened the stays of his trousers and stooped to find his boots whilst simultaneously lowering himself to the edge of the bed, he looked to her and smiled.

"Tell me, Guinevere, were you born here?" He asked and lifted his brows. Mayhap Joscelin was a bit too curious for his own good but a bit of curiosity never hurt anyone, at least that's what Joscelin thought. There were a number of other questions that he had though, however, Joscelin wasn't about to ask whether or not she tended any royal or other noble chambers. It would have been more than suspicious to say the very least. All the while Joscelin was dressing though as he drew on his boots

"I was always taught that one should know the people around you, at least that's what I believe," he confessed and lifted his shoulder in a shrug of dismissal. He came to his feet then. "After all, it's not only royalty and nobility that sway the land but the people who live there, don't you think?" He asked and smiled at her as he drew his shirt on and tucked the hem into his trousers mindfully.

[Guinevere Thomas]

Guinevere nodded at his insistence that she stay and that he wouldnt be that long, however she resolutely kept her back to him while he dressed. She released the shirt she had been holding and set it aside. To busy herself, she went about cleaning the fireplace. It had seen some use recently, and the ash needed to be swept together, so she did just that. She had to tuck a few stray pieces of her hair behind her ear when they decided to play with gravity, but she finished that task soon enough. Just in time too, to hear the slight creak of the bed and, figuring it was safe, she turned around once more.

He was slipping on his boots as she wandered over to collect the now abandoned sheet. She balled it up as he asked if she was born in Camelot. "Born and raised my lord," she replied with a proud smile. Sure, she was no noble or anything, but Camelot had been a good place to grow up. She was proud of it. "My brother and I were raised with Sir Leon," she added before looking at Joscelin. "He is one of Prince Arthur's knights. Perhaps you know him?"

"My father was the blacksmith and he raised us by himself," Guinevere added quickly, not wanting to dwell on that topic too long. Lest she begin crying and embarrass herself to no end. Morgana was understaning and kind when she had her bad days, but they were close friends. A visiting Lord she had just met probably wouldnt be so forthcoming.

How to answer his last statements however presented a problem for dear Gwen. Should she be bluntly honest as she was sometimes known to be? Or temper it with caution? "A kingdom is only as strong as it's people, for without said people, there would be no kingdom," she replied finally. It was respectful, but she believed it. "My lord," she tagged on the end, just in case.