Squire Harlequin @totally-normal-squire - Tumblr Blog

The squire didn't know what Elizabeth had done. She'd come home still flushed and insisted that the owner of this establishment had helped her. They'd thought about it all night, and decided they needed to pay a visit to the herbalist.

They'd even put on the uniform with Elizabeth's crest over their breast. Harley hasn't worn clothes that are so tailored, so admittedly they are a bit tense. They force a smile onto their face, trying their best not to look like they're about to draw the blade at their hip.

"You're the owner here? The one who Lady Elizabeth visited yesterday?"

The lack of immediate attack makes the herbalist relax ever so slightly. Its moments like this he was glad to keep his face hidden. His voice could work wonders, his eyes? Not so much.

“Oh, yes.” He says, a hum to his tone. “Has she requested more of the tea? I would be happy to pack up a jar.”

He focuses on the squire. They did seem unhappy, at the least. Confused. Confusion he could work with.

They avoid his gaze and look around the shop, thinking about what they want to say. When's the last time they went to a shop for themself (or in this case, of their own free will)? A year or two after Sir [ ] had taken them on as a squire, they think. They'd bought their journal then.

"She has not, no. If you think it would be a good idea, though, I could bring it to her." Harley clears their throat and straightens their back. They wince at the cracking sound that normally comes with age. "What sort of tea would this be, sir?"

Oh. So this one was the inquisitive type.

“Mostly hibiscus, but with a tincture of my own making.” He moves to his collection of things, pulling the vial from his shelf. It’s simple, marked with a symbol on the cork. The herbalist had how own system. “This is a syrup that contains cannabis, ginger, lemongrass, lavender, and cinnamon, and cloves.”

This was the easy part. He had nothing to lie about with his concoctions. This was legal, and fair. He picked the land he did for these specific conditions.

“I provide aids of all kinds, including ones that affect the mind. It is my specialty, in a way.“

Harley nods. They've never been allowed to experiment under Sir [ ]'s hand, but they do know this sort of stuff is legal. Hesitantly, they reach out for the vial to examine it, glancing between the herbalist and the vial.

"She enjoyed this, then? Any, uh, side effects?" Testing, probing. Harley has no reason to suspect anything, right? The herbalist has done nothing wrong, as far as they're aware. There's just something that feels off. Maybe Harley's just overtired. They did stay up late training, after all.

“No side effects that were unexpected.” He smiles, allowing the squire to test. “She did end up feeling very warm, though that’s not uncommon.”

The truth was a sweet thing. Maybe he learned too well from the creatures in the forest how to keep his words honest and still get by. Though he was never as good at it as them.

“I ask to observe all of my clients first experience with my tinctures. There are some very negative side effects that can occur, and if they do, it’s my responsibility to care for them.”

He pauses, as if he had just figured out what the squire was here for.

“She did stay some time before I felt it was responsible to send her home. Can be quite dangerous this deep into the woods. Especially when you don’t have your wits about you.”

Harley nods. They don't know enough about this subject to question anything. As far as they know, the tea could turn a person into a mouse. Could it? Probably not, but the point still stands.

"I appreciate you taking care of her if she was so affected, then. Your kindness will be..." Harley cocks their head, glancing over the herbalist again. There's just something that nagging at them. "Acknowledged."

They uncork the vial in their hands and sniff it, testing whether it actually smells like the stuff the herbalist had said was in it. "Did anything else happen during her visit?"

basicbascinet

The squire knocks on the door, and sits down on the stoop to wait. They'd walked the entire way here wearing their former knight's armor. Sure, it doesn't fit too well, but it's better than nothing. They've got their own sword, at least. They need to find their sister. Helping out with the farmers' issues is just something extra they'll do.

...it's warm today. Nice.

@totally-normal-squire

*Bec opens the front door of the KPS to find Harley already waiting*

Ah, Harlequin. Come on, I have horses ready to go. I also packed us lunch for the road. If we make good time we should arrive in the afternoon.

(Harley scrambles to their feet, dusting off their cuisses. They haven't been here before, they'll just follow Bec.)

Horses, right. And lunch? You spoil me, officer, thank you. Elizabeth also sent me snacks, if you'd like some.

basicbascinet

What was I supposed to do, leave you without food 'til night? I don't want to impose on the farmers either.

*Bec leads them to the front of the stables where two horses are saddled and ready to go* I got you Estella, she's a good mare. And this is my good buddy, Aurelius. *he greets the horses with clicking noises and friendly pats*

(Harley pats Estella's nose a couple of times as they check the saddle. They're capable of riding, of course. Sir [ ] had made sure of that.)

I assume she is capable of carrying me in armor?

The day before was still fresh in his mind as he sits within his shop. Despite his lingering thoughts he still had normal work to do. It was back to making tinctures and testing combinations. He had a particularly intense one he was planning to spend his night with.

A soft chime tingles as the door opens. A customer, or a supplier, or perhaps even a guest! All three are well enough possibilities. He turns, words starting before thought.

“Hello there traveler! I offer aid and assistance of all sorts. What do you…”

His voice trails off as his eyes land on the body in front of him. It’s less the man, and more the crest that they wear. The same as the lady that had been here the night before, and clearly someone capable of violence.

Shit. Well. He supposes he deserves what may happen here. But, it is simply a may. Not a will.

“…seek?”

@totally-normal-squire

The squire didn't know what Elizabeth had done. She'd come home still flushed and insisted that the owner of this establishment had helped her. They'd thought about it all night, and decided they needed to pay a visit to the herbalist.

They'd even put on the uniform with Elizabeth's crest over their breast. Harley hasn't worn clothes that are so tailored, so admittedly they are a bit tense. They force a smile onto their face, trying their best not to look like they're about to draw the blade at their hip.

"You're the owner here? The one who Lady Elizabeth visited yesterday?"

The lack of immediate attack makes the herbalist relax ever so slightly. Its moments like this he was glad to keep his face hidden. His voice could work wonders, his eyes? Not so much.

“Oh, yes.” He says, a hum to his tone. “Has she requested more of the tea? I would be happy to pack up a jar.”

He focuses on the squire. They did seem unhappy, at the least. Confused. Confusion he could work with.

They avoid his gaze and look around the shop, thinking about what they want to say. When's the last time they went to a shop for themself (or in this case, of their own free will)? A year or two after Sir [ ] had taken them on as a squire, they think. They'd bought their journal then.

"She has not, no. If you think it would be a good idea, though, I could bring it to her." Harley clears their throat and straightens their back. They wince at the cracking sound that normally comes with age. "What sort of tea would this be, sir?"

Oh. So this one was the inquisitive type.

“Mostly hibiscus, but with a tincture of my own making.” He moves to his collection of things, pulling the vial from his shelf. It’s simple, marked with a symbol on the cork. The herbalist had how own system. “This is a syrup that contains cannabis, ginger, lemongrass, lavender, and cinnamon, and cloves.”

This was the easy part. He had nothing to lie about with his concoctions. This was legal, and fair. He picked the land he did for these specific conditions.

“I provide aids of all kinds, including ones that affect the mind. It is my specialty, in a way.“

Harley nods. They've never been allowed to experiment under Sir [ ]'s hand, but they do know this sort of stuff is legal. Hesitantly, they reach out for the vial to examine it, glancing between the herbalist and the vial.

"She enjoyed this, then? Any, uh, side effects?" Testing, probing. Harley has no reason to suspect anything, right? The herbalist has done nothing wrong, as far as they're aware. There's just something that feels off. Maybe Harley's just overtired. They did stay up late training, after all.

After wandering the halls and grounds hoping to stumble across Harley, Leander settles for leaving a note tucked between the door and frame to their rooms.

Harlequin,

Greetings!

I have had no luck finding you in-person, so I am leaving this message where I hope you will find it.

It occurs to me that we are both recent arrivals, and that perhaps you might like to go for a walk about the gardens sometime? I know very few people here, and I find myself feeling a bit… adrift, I suppose.

Which is not to say I’m not happy to be here! Goodness, I am more grateful and content to be here than I can express. Still, I figured you might be feeling similarly untethered, and I should love to spend time in your company. Besides, as members of Queen Elizabeth’s retinue, would it not be beneficial to get to know one another?

If we continue to pass as ships in the night, my rooms are off the west hall, third door down. Feel free to stop by, or leave a note of your own if you’d prefer!

Warmly,

Leander Khidell

@totally-normal-squire

With the recent death of their knight, Harley's been avoiding people. They eat alone, they bathe alone, they do their best to train alone. They aren't surprised to find a letter tucked away, but they are surprised to see that it's from someone they don't know. Leander? Isn't that the noble?

They enter their quarters and grab a sheet of parchment from their bag, as well as a small stick of charcoal. They scribble out a quick letter, put the charcoal away, and hurry out and down the west hall. Third door. They shove the parchment under the door and hurry away, not wanting to be seen.

Leander,

Meet me in the gardens after supper if you want to get to know each other. It's far easier to speak face to face than it is through notes and letters.

Harlequin Ward

Leander returned from his afternoon in the local town’s market, stopping short as he opened the door as he spotted the hastily folded parchment. He’d placed his bag down and read quickly, excited to have heard back so soon. When supper came, he’d eaten quickly, anxious not to miss Harlequin.

Now, Leander sits on the edge of a large fountain just inside the garden’s entrance, gaze turned upward as he watches the sparse clouds catch fire in the evening light. He turns the words of Harley’s note over in his mind, reading into them and overthinking— was it presumptuous to reach out? Have I made them uncomfortable?— before taking a deep breath. He wants to make a good first impression, and if he’d put himself at a disadvantage in that pursuit, he’ll just have to make up for it now.

Harley's quiet as they approach. They'd eaten alone again tonight, perfectly content to make Leander wait. They haven't been sleeping well so they are, admittedly, not looking too great. At least they've tied their hair up out of their face for once. They haven't even bothered changing out of their training clothes.

"Leander?" Harley greets, their voice quiet. They come to a stop in front of him, doing a quick calculation on how easily they could take him down if they need to. They don't know anything about Leander besides that he's some sort of noble. "You wanted to get to know each other?"

Leander turns at the sound of his name, a sunny smile splitting his face as he rises to his feet gracefully.

“Harlequin! I’m so pleased you could meet with me!” He almost steps forward to offer his hand in greeting, then takes note of the slight distance Harley has left between them and thinks better of it, lest he make them uncomfortable.

“Yes, I should like very much to get acquainted! I find I know very little of you, and that seems a shame, especially seeing as I imagine we might train together at some point. Shall we walk, or would you prefer we stay put?”

Leander seems… well, a bit dopey. He is utterly guileless, brazenly open. Like a puppy in his earnestness and excitement, though there is a sharp mind behind his eyes. He looks at Harley without judgement, without seeing the training clothes nor the sleeplessness, and without even thinking to assess a potential threat.

Harley has to resist the urge to poke Leander in the ribs. Sir [ ] would have. It's what he taught Harley to do. They instead gesture towards the garden paths.

"It would be better to walk, I think. I haven't seen much of the castle besides the courtyards and my quarters." They have to bite their tongue not to snap at Leander to at least look over them to see if they have a weapon. Harley could be an assassin, for gods' sake.

"You say we might train together?" Harley offers as a starter, trying their best to keep the edge out of their tone. "I've heard you're a noble of some sort, but I fear I don't know any more than that. Presumably one capable of sparring?"

“Oh! Well, then we certainly ought to walk about— there’s a stunning pergola draped in ivy I quite enjoy down this way, we can start there.” With that, Leander sets off along one of the branching paths.

He can tell Harley is far from at their ease, and seems to be mildly put out by something. Leander refuses to spiral about what he’s done to offend, breathing the salty and wisteria-laden air in deeply as they stroll to calm his nerves.

“Well, I hope to train with you sometime, at least. My background is in dueling, you see, and I’m a fairly blank slate when it comes to knightly schooling and skills.” He reaches out a hand to lightly brush along the edges of a myrtle as they pass it by.

He chuckles, a bit ruefully. “But yes, I… am a noble, of some sort. Though here, I find I claim my noble blood infrequently, if at all. Here, I’m just Leander.”

He straightens up as if coming back to the present moment and looks at Harley with a smile, “And rest assured, I am capable of sparring. From the little I know of you, I understand you train quite often. Do you enjoy it?”

Leander is being careful, both in what he shares and what he asks. The former, for fear of saying too much. The latter, for fear of pushing too hard. It is a line he is not sure how to navigate— he’s naturally an open book— but he’ll be damned if he isn’t going to try his hardest. For both their sakes.

"Do you have a knight training you, then?" Harley shoves their thumbs into their waistband, counting their steps as they walk. Don't pay attention to how they tense as Leander reaches to the plants. They're safe. Nobody's going to hurt them here. "I was under the impression that one must have a knight training them if they are to squire."

"By that logic, I'm not a squire either." Harley falters in their step, but hurries on regardless. It's a lovely evening, isn't it? Be a shame to ruin the mood. They clear their throat and move on. "I haven't dueled much, I'll admit. I've worked more in the, uh, less planned battles than anything formal."

"I don't particularly enjoy my training, but it's a necessary evil. I will be a knight, and I wish to survive that career." Harley takes a deep breath and glances over at Leander, studying him properly. Not figuring out how to beat him this time, just examining. He's certainly looks like a noble. "If you wish, you may join me in training. I can teach you some of what my knight- my, uhm, former knight, pardon. What he taught me."

Leander’s eyes widen slightly, as if in realization. As if— had he not known that?

“I— that is— um, no, I do not have a knight training me, per se. But Elizabeth mentioned in our correspondence that she might share some of my training with Ser Catherine, so I suppose it’s a matter of time?”

(He sees the placement of their thumbs, noting that their posture is no longer one of preparing for imminent conflict. His chest warms at that revelation.)

He smiles sheepishly, casting a sidelong glance at Harley. “You know, I had thought— I pray you do not hold it too much against me, but I had thought the whole ‘squire-to-knight’ process was sort of more,” his brow furrows as he gestures vaguely, “organic? The bay berry is not trained to become a laurel, it simply does.”

He laughs with self-admonishment, his gaze turning to the twilit sky, “Gods, forgive me, that was a truly awful analogy, wasn’t it?”

He clasps his hands loosely behind his back as Harley speaks, paying no heed to their steps’ momentary loss of their rhythm. Internally, Leander is ecstatic that they’re sharing at all. That excitement bubbles over at Harley’s offer (he will wait until they are better acquainted to ask after their former knight, it seems a sore spot).

“Truly? I wouldn’t want to impose, certainly, but I should love to train with you and learn whatever you are inclined to teach.” He’s angled to face Harley as they walk, now, his pale eyes sparkling with hopeful delight. “If you’re sure, I am an excellent student, not to worry. In fact, I’m nearly entirely self-taught in dueling —”

Leander smacks into one of the posts of the Ivy-clad pergola mid-ramble, staggering back a step before falling flat on his ass.

“Oof, nice going, Leander. Just a picture of grace and poise, you are.” He brushes his palms off on his trousers, wincing slightly (though more in embarrassment than pain) as he moves to stand.

Harley can't help but bark out a laugh as Leander runs into the post. It's something cackling and high pitched, exposing the outward curving upper canines typical of their family. They have to bite their tongue to hold in their laugh long enough to offer Leander a hand.

"Are you- ehe- are you alright?" They would have never ran into anything. They pay attention to their surroundings. Sir [ ] made sure of that. Get over it, Harley, he's dead and gone. Move on. Show concern, continue the conversation if Leander's okay and not too embarrassed. "Looked painful."

At Harley’s outburst, Leander’s slight grimace transforms into a bashful smile, and he joins them in their laughter. Reaching up, he clasps their hand and hauls himself upright, still chuckling. “More painful to my pride than anything! Thank you.” He meets Harley’s eyes briefly, his gaze warm, and gives a gentle squeeze to their hand before releasing it and stepping back half a pace.

Their teeth are extraordinary! He files the momentary glint of their sharp canines away, yet another question to ask at another time. In fact, he finds Harley on the whole fascinating, and is calling upon all his courtly lessons to keep that and a dozen more questions from tumbling out. Now is not the time, Lea, keep it together.

“Well, ah, here is the pergola I mentioned! Isn’t it remarkable? Like a cave, but all a-rustle with the sea breeze through the leaves. And dry, which I’ve rarely found a cave to be.” He moves forward under the canopy, and his shy smile morphs again, this time into a picture of delighted wonder, as he looks up at the vines woven overhead. He reaches up to trace the shape of a leaf with a single finger, his wonder becoming thoughtful.

“Harlequin, may I ask… the way you speak of your path— ‘a necessary evil’, and, ‘I will be a knight’— I can’t help wondering, why do you wish to be a knight?”

He only turns to look at them once the question is voiced, his head tilted slightly to one side. He can allow himself a single question beyond niceties, surely? Hopefully?

Harley shoves their thumbs back into their waistband, a smile twitching across their face. For once, they allow themself to relax a bit and look up at the vines.

"I'm the first in my family to manage to afford the training in several generations. It'd be a waste to stop now, wouldn't it? I started when I was seven, I don't- I haven't seen my sister in two years." Harley's smile fades slightly as they stare at the leaves.

"Anyway," Harley clears their throat, "what about you? Personal question for personal question, what brings you here?"

The day before was still fresh in his mind as he sits within his shop. Despite his lingering thoughts he still had normal work to do. It was back to making tinctures and testing combinations. He had a particularly intense one he was planning to spend his night with.

A soft chime tingles as the door opens. A customer, or a supplier, or perhaps even a guest! All three are well enough possibilities. He turns, words starting before thought.

“Hello there traveler! I offer aid and assistance of all sorts. What do you…”

His voice trails off as his eyes land on the body in front of him. It’s less the man, and more the crest that they wear. The same as the lady that had been here the night before, and clearly someone capable of violence.

Shit. Well. He supposes he deserves what may happen here. But, it is simply a may. Not a will.

“…seek?”

@totally-normal-squire

The squire didn't know what Elizabeth had done. She'd come home still flushed and insisted that the owner of this establishment had helped her. They'd thought about it all night, and decided they needed to pay a visit to the herbalist.

They'd even put on the uniform with Elizabeth's crest over their breast. Harley hasn't worn clothes that are so tailored, so admittedly they are a bit tense. They force a smile onto their face, trying their best not to look like they're about to draw the blade at their hip.

"You're the owner here? The one who Lady Elizabeth visited yesterday?"

The lack of immediate attack makes the herbalist relax ever so slightly. Its moments like this he was glad to keep his face hidden. His voice could work wonders, his eyes? Not so much.

“Oh, yes.” He says, a hum to his tone. “Has she requested more of the tea? I would be happy to pack up a jar.”

He focuses on the squire. They did seem unhappy, at the least. Confused. Confusion he could work with.

They avoid his gaze and look around the shop, thinking about what they want to say. When's the last time they went to a shop for themself (or in this case, of their own free will)? A year or two after Sir [ ] had taken them on as a squire, they think. They'd bought their journal then.

"She has not, no. If you think it would be a good idea, though, I could bring it to her." Harley clears their throat and straightens their back. They wince at the cracking sound that normally comes with age. "What sort of tea would this be, sir?"

The day before was still fresh in his mind as he sits within his shop. Despite his lingering thoughts he still had normal work to do. It was back to making tinctures and testing combinations. He had a particularly intense one he was planning to spend his night with.

A soft chime tingles as the door opens. A customer, or a supplier, or perhaps even a guest! All three are well enough possibilities. He turns, words starting before thought.

“Hello there traveler! I offer aid and assistance of all sorts. What do you…”

His voice trails off as his eyes land on the body in front of him. It’s less the man, and more the crest that they wear. The same as the lady that had been here the night before, and clearly someone capable of violence.

Shit. Well. He supposes he deserves what may happen here. But, it is simply a may. Not a will.

“…seek?”

@totally-normal-squire

The squire didn't know what Elizabeth had done. She'd come home still flushed and insisted that the owner of this establishment had helped her. They'd thought about it all night, and decided they needed to pay a visit to the herbalist.

They'd even put on the uniform with Elizabeth's crest over their breast. Harley hasn't worn clothes that are so tailored, so admittedly they are a bit tense. They force a smile onto their face, trying their best not to look like they're about to draw the blade at their hip.

"You're the owner here? The one who Lady Elizabeth visited yesterday?"

basicbascinet

The squire knocks on the door, and sits down on the stoop to wait. They'd walked the entire way here wearing their former knight's armor. Sure, it doesn't fit too well, but it's better than nothing. They've got their own sword, at least. They need to find their sister. Helping out with the farmers' issues is just something extra they'll do.

...it's warm today. Nice.

@totally-normal-squire

*Bec opens the front door of the KPS to find Harley already waiting*

Ah, Harlequin. Come on, I have horses ready to go. I also packed us lunch for the road. If we make good time we should arrive in the afternoon.

(Harley scrambles to their feet, dusting off their cuisses. They haven't been here before, they'll just follow Bec.)

Horses, right. And lunch? You spoil me, officer, thank you. Elizabeth also sent me snacks, if you'd like some.

I lied about officer Bec and the kps being supportive of women and not misogynistic. They are very mean and have double standards. I have harmed no one undeserving and neither has that poor priestess. Accusing a woman in a position of power of being a cult leader is mean. She even set up food donations for the underprivileged.

I apologize for my misjudgment.

:(

yeah but officer bec is helping me find my sister and your priestess lady ain't doin that

I offered to go when I am in the capital! Which I am not currently in. My apologies. Have you made any progress?

No :(

I will say, if your priestess gal is so cool, why can't she help? Be easier with more people.

This is sad to hear.

Uhm I don’t know, honestly she is very private. Perhaps I can get word to her congregation? I know they are out more often than her.

I don't trust folks that won't get in the dirt with the rest of us. If she ain't gonna help, then I guess that's her choice. Most of the good religious folk help, don't they? Suppose you'd know more than I.

Usually the higher ups keep to their parchment and sermons, but they usually do things like looking after the sick or orphaned. I admit, I don’t really know much about her tendencies other than giving out free food.

Mmm. You should look into that. Isn't it important to know who you serve?

A fine point squire, but i must remind you I am not in service to her. I simply provided her with what she requested.