#earthrunes

Sometimes they're successful. Sometimes she digs in her heels.

Shalimar vanished for a say or so, but now he has returned, and tisks "Four days? God made the Earth in Four days then bumed around for three... "

He looks at August to see if mangling scripture will rouse him "God made dinosaurs, but they got too big and fat and turned into OIls, then the arabs came and they all bought mercedes benzes.. and Prince Charles started wearing all of Lady Di's clothes..."

If Coradel hears this, Shalimar gets a wan grin for his efforts...but the religious iconography of August's torture is still too fresh.

"Come, Baroness. Sir August would not want your hair in rollers while you were stuck ironing his shirts " Shalimar says

"Oh, now there's a flattering image, thank you." She sighs, and touches August's hair again before agreeing to be pulled away. "I understand you left for a time. Are you well? and Vashti?"

"Ah, how oddly incidental that you should mention..."

"Mm?"

He brings her out from the healing hut, to the gardens, to the interior of the halls and down further to open a door

into a room of dresses of all types.

These are not off the rack, that's for sure.

Coradel blinks at the assortment. "What's all this?"

Many are more conservative in color than she'd like but a few are quite vibrant. A backless silver number, there's also a full sized ball gown with red edges along the frill and delicate lacing giving the rest a more sunset hue.

She is drawn to them, her fingers stroking over the fabric. "These are lovely, but why are they here?"

And there is someone here, hand making another dress

Vashti looks up, rises, and gives a gracious feminine bow, wings spread.

Coradel returns the gesture with a nod of her head. "Vashti? This is all your work?"

A whisper from behind Coradel. "Because - what is a baroness without an couturiere? Dressed like a Dougal, that's what."

"Oh, some aid was purloined from a local library" Vashti says with a smile and glance to where the whisper arose.

A quiet grey smile in response.

Coradel turns to see Zara (presumably?) and offers her a smile. "I see. So this is an audition?"

"Mayhaps?"

Vashti says "A woman of your rank and style deserves a personal dressmaker, why it's almost a law in the Kingdom of grass. I am, fortunately for all, tired of my life as a woman of leisure "

Shalimar coughs "Panhandling is too good for her. I asked"

"Dressed like a Dougal? Hmph...I don't think I've been quite that bad...." A flicker of amusement, the first in a while. "Well, I am willing to entertain the notion. I suppose I should try some on?" Normally she'd be changing already, but her attention seems divided.

"It could be a pleasant surprise for Sleeping Beauty, to gaze upon his trueheart in finery..."

"By all means" Vashti says , and looks to Shalimar "Begone, possessor of the Y mark, and stand guard over her amour so that should he rise, you will sprout wings and fly back"

Shalimar smiles, then says to the Baroness "Fear not, if he so much as sneezes, I shall come back and tell you to bless him"

Then Vashti blushes "Pardon, baroness... he is yours to tyrannize, but I had grown used to it as he is a paramour"

"I would not deny you the pleasure," Coradel murmurs to Vashti as she peruses the dresses. "I...these are beautiful...but I feel..." she trails off.

Shalimar has withedrawn, but Vashti says "Feelings are not meant to be in jars with no air... please"

Coradel nods, and looks back to the door. "I should be...there...." An almost physical pull back towards the infirmary.

Vashti nods "What matters cloth, when naked love can find no warmth in loneliness? What can shield a soul from the howling winds of concern for its better part? My lady, it is not for me to say so naturally I shall speak at length. He would not wish thee to neglect breathing as you have been. Men are selfish creatures insisting that we thrive when they suffer"

"...and he would want you to take care of yourself, and to be happy." A pause. "Making you happy is, perhaps, the thing that means most to him in the world, aye?"

She gives a bit of a smile. "You two are both very persuasive, and...maybe you're right. And they're certainly beautiful. Well...which should I try first?" A game expression, though not resounding enthusiasm.

"Mmmm.. Vashti, the rose one, you think?"

"Oh yes, she has the thorns for it"

"It has the most wonderful lace..." Nope, not biased...

"Is the lacework yours, Zara?"

"Not mine, but it is fine work. The embroidered net is my sister's hand... here, see? Silken floss..."

"Such fine stitches. Yes...help me with this?" She begins to disrobe.

Vashti moves with..well, as if she's done this many times

taking her garment, folding it just so and putting it up well so the lines will not be ruined

Coradel's undergarments are elegant and...well, minimal. She allows them to help her slip into the rose dress. "It doesn't clash with my hair?"

"These are such warm roses... more crimson than pink.."

"More than one red may dance in the twilight when the music is right" Vashti assures

"My sister, the poet."

After they fasten the closures, she smooths her hands over her hips and goes to look in a mirror, turning this way and that.

"Poetry is the greatest lie of all" she says

Zara steps back, smoothing her braid.