Work Text:
Ilya-halfelven:
Rose had never been to this part of the Dreaming before. Usually, she visited Fiddler's Green or just wandered the stacks of the Library, finding more and more things she never had time to read. Today though, she'd just found herself here, facing two houses that looked nice enough, despite the cool fog swirling around them. It sounded like someone was gardening round the back, so she cautiously headed that way, curious about meeting whoever lived here. Or at least, she was until she actually saw what was going on: a middle-aged dark haired man stood in a veritable field of graves marked with crosses, and the digging she'd heard wasn't gardening: he was using a shovel to dig yet another grave, presumably for the crumbled body at his feet. Heart pounding, Rose backed up, retracing her steps as quietly as she could. Dream or not, she didn't want to have anything to do with a murderer.
Once out of sight of the houses, Rose turned and ran, heedless of where she was going. Thus, she was taken totally by surprise when she crashed into someone, her momentum sending them both toppling to the ground with cries of pain. She scrambled to her feet first, mortified and offering her hand to her 'victim', babbling apologies. A slender hand with too-long fingers slid into hers and as the person got to her feet, Rose took in glimpses of an elfin face with an adorable button nose and rosebud lips, but most of her attention was caught by a pair of soft brown eyes. Like pools of melted chocolate, she mused. Beautiful...
Tryan:
Feeling she should explain why she’d knocked the lovely woman over, Rose opened her mouth. And found that words had fled her, as she babbled incoherently for a moment. The woman laughed softly, not mocking but showing that she wasn’t upset about being crashed into.
“Hello! You are new here. Why were you running so fast?” She peered around. “I don’t see any nightmares chasing you.”
Rose stopped and tried to catch her breath for a moment. She wasn’t sure where to start, and the elfin beauty of her interlocutor wasn’t helping.
“I’m Nuala,” the woman continued. “I take care of the Castle Garden.”
“Oh!” Rose exclaimed, finally on sure footing. “I love the Castle Garden!”
“Yes, I’ve seen you around.” Nuala smiled gently and Rose’s courage grew so she tried again.
“Yes, you have such lovely roses, and the lilacs are amazing, and somehow they are all blooming at the same time! I’ve never seen you digging around,” she said curiously, “unlike…” and she trailed off with a worried glance back where she’d come from.
“Oh! That’s why you were running. You must have seen Cain and Abel after one of their spats.” Nuala held out a hand to comfort Rose now, and Rose was more than willing to take it.
“Do they do that often?” Rose wondered as Nuala began to lead her further into the garden.
“Every day. It’s their story, and they haven’t been able to change it.” That seemed sad, but Rose couldn’t dwell on it for long, as they came up to a delicately carved table with tea set out on it.
“I was just going to look for someone to have tea with on my break,” Nuala explained as they sat down. “I’m happy we ran into each other. It’s always fun to meet someone new.”
Rose giggled. “Literally. Ran into. I’m sorry again for knocking you down.”
“It’s no problem at all,” Nuala reassured her as she poured the tea. “I spend most of my day down in the dirt anyway.” She gestured at the wheelbarrow beside the table, which looked to Rose to be full of bulbs ready for planting, though she couldn’t tell what kind because of the burlap sack protecting them while Nuala took her break.
“I could help you,” Rose blurted. She liked planting bulbs, but if she was honest with herself, she’d even help with weeding if it meant she could spend more time with Nuala.
“I would enjoy that,” Nuala said, offering her the plate of scones (the American kind, Rose noticed). Rose smiled, taking a scone, and wondered where this new adventure would lead her.