A Glamorous Garden

Krvavy’s gaze slowly trails over a beautifully manicured bush dotted with pink and violet flowers.

“These look ta be growin’ quite well, despite the colder climate up ‘ere. Just ‘ow did ya lot manage tha’?”

The young maid nervously shifts her weight from side to side. “Uh... I –”

“Ach, right. Sorry.” Beryl shakes her head and sighs. “Ya’re not one o’ the gardeners.”

“Maybe we’ll find one somewhere in this maze?” Krvavy idly states, glancing over at a different beautifully trimmed shrub. They various plants in here do look nice, there is really no denying that, but they’re all kind of blending together in her mind. One fancy bush is pretty much the same as the next.

“Surprised we ‘aven’t already.” The tanned Elf furrows her brow just a little. “A garden o’ this size would need quite a few people tendin’ ta it...”

“They must be avoiding us.” The corner of Krvavy’s lip curls up into a faintly teasing smile. “Probably for the best too, as they wouldn’t be able to get their work done with you burying them in questions.”

“Ach, if anythin’ it’d be the other way around.” Beryl playfully scoffs, lightly elbowing her Draconic lover in the side.

“Oh~? Feeling a little arrogant, are you~?”

“My dearest love,” an exaggerated sigh accompanies those loving words, “Ah’m a Wood Elf. A daughter o’ nature.”

“And that makes you more of an expert than some Human professionals~?” A mischievous glint fills the Drakling’s emerald eyes as she cheekily flirts with her sweet berry, not caring about the increasingly embarrassed maid’s presence.

“Aye, o’ course.” Going by just her tone alone, someone might think that Beryl was being completely serious right now. But her hardly hidden grin shows that she is just joking around. For the most part, at least.

“Then how come your garden isn’t as nice as this one~?”

“Tsk, tsk.” The Elf clicks her tongue while wagging a finger back and forth. “It takes time fer a seedlin’ ta grow inta a tree. Ya are comparin’ a new sprout ta a forest.”

“Sounds like an excuse to me~.”

“Ach, like explainin’ somethin’ ta a rock...”

“Oh, I’m a rock now, am I~?” Krvavy looms over her Elf, moving in so close that their noses nearly touch. “Do you usually sleep with rocks then~?”

“Aye, or ‘ave ya forgotten about Inanna~?” Beryl smugly replies, looking rather proud as she crosses her arms. “Plus, we live in a cave~. Plenty o’ rocks in there~.”

The barbarian rolls her eyes and gently grabs onto the tanned tomboy’s hips, fingers sliding over the Elf’s soft blue-green sundress. Krvavy leans in just a little more, crossing the short distance needed to claims Beryl’s lips.

“I’m glad to see that you are enjoying the gardens~.” A melodic voice dances through the air, sounding as if the speaker is holding back a laugh.

It takes a couple more seconds for Krvavy to end her kiss, reluctantly separating from her sweet berry’s even sweeter lips. She calmly glances back over her shoulder, looking at the two figures approaching along the ornate garden pathway.

Rina elegantly waves towards the lovers, a warm smile filling her face. Two moon-like pearls dangle from each of her ears, swaying with her graceful movements. She may be wearing a beautiful and undoubtedly expensive dress, as well as a fair bit of purple-gemmed jewellery, but she still looks so approachable and friendly.

That welcoming aura is tempered a fair bit by the albino maid by her side.

Pale pink eyes glower behind a pair of glasses, while white eyebrows furrow with a mix of annoyance and anger. Vera’s gloved hand tenses, tightening its grip on the black lace parasol held above her head. Shade surrounds the albino, but hardly reaches Rina.

While neither the Drakling or Wood Elf seem surprised by the Countess’ sudden appearance, the same cannot be said for the young maid by their side. Lynda nearly jumps in place, quickly clutching her skirt as she goes to curtsy. “M-my La–aaAH!”

A pair of spectral hands suddenly manifest in the air, their glowing purple fingers gently grabbing onto the clumsy maid’s shoulders.

“It is alright, Lynda.” Rina reassures her flustered maid. Once the girl is steadied, the Countess dismisses the magically summoned hands with a simple gesture. “It will take some time, but you will get used to your new legs. So do not stress over the occasional tumble.”

A red hue fills the young maid’s face as she turns her embarrassed gaze down to the ground. “Th-thank you, my Lady...”

Rina’s warm gaze shifts towards the two guests in her garden. “Apologies for making you wait on me. Hopefully you have enjoyed my gardens in the meantime.”

“This whole place is quite beautiful,” Krvavy honestly replies. Her lips twist into a mischievous smile as she gently nudges her Wood Elf in the side. “Though someone had some different thoughts~.”

“Ach, throwin’ me ta the wolves, are ya?” Beryl narrows her eyes and stares at the Drakling.

“I would never~.”

The tanned tomboy just sighs and shakes her head. “It is good ta finally put a face ta yer name, Lady... Alexandrina.” She politely curtsies. “Ah’m Beryl. It is a pleasure ta meet ya.”

“The pleasure is mine.” The half-Elf woman returns an elegant nod, her amethyst eyes meeting Beryl’s blue-green. “And please, call me Rina. I am sure that Krvavy has told you enough personal details about myself to afford you that level of intimacy.”

“She ‘as and she ‘asn’t.” Beryl playfully shrugs. “Krvavy isn’t always the best wit’ descriptions. Fer instance, Ah didn’t think ya’d be quite so... Elf-ish. Ah’m almost ‘avin’ a ‘ard time believin’ tha’ ya’re only an ‘alf Elf just by lookin’ at ya.”

“Oh?” Rina expresses her curiosity by raising a single delicate eyebrow. “Is that so? What gives you that impression?”

“Yer ears, mostly. They’re a bit longer than Ah’d expect from an ‘alf. Not quite the length o’ a full-blooded Elf though, see?” Beryl wiggles her own pointed ears while gesturing vaguely at them with her left hand. “Maybe closer ta two-thirds? Or three-quarters?”

“Have you met many Half Elves then? Or Moon Elves, even?”

“Not many, no. And never a Moon: they don’t come ta the woods all tha’ often.” The tanned Elf answers the Countess’ question. “Tha’ said... Yer skin is also much more vibrant than Ah expected. Ah thought it’d be pink in the way tha’ ‘umans can be. Soft and rosy, ya know? So tha’ is another thing tha’ makes ya look less like an ‘alf...”

“Interesting...” Rina idly replies, before audibly breathing out and gently shaking her head. “Apologies, my curiosity got the better of me. Have the two of you eaten yet?”

“Not since lunch.”

The pink-skinned half-Elf nods and turns her gaze towards the young maid, who still looks rather embarrassed. “Lynda, I will be having dinner with these two guests on the lily terrace. Please inform Izolda of my decision, and then take a well earned break.”

“Yes, my Lady!” The clumsy maid quickly curtsies, just barely staying on her feet, before carefully hurrying off.

“Come,” Rina warmly orders. The silver-trimmed hem of her darkly coloured dress hovers over the paving stones as she walks along the path past Beryl and the barbarian.

The albino maid closely follows behind her Countess, all while glaring at the Drakling through the glasses resting atop her dainty nose. The shade cast by her black parasol covers her completely, adding to her menacing aura.

“I understand that Krvavy was just teasing you,” the Countess addresses Beryl with a friendly and welcoming tone. “But I would still like to hear your thoughts on these gardens.”

The Wood Elf bites onto her bottom lip as she falls into thought, idly grabbing onto Krvavy’s hand. “This garden is amazin’ fer wha’ it is.” That diplomatic reply comes after a few long seconds.

Rina raises a delicate eyebrow and glances back over her bare shoulder. “How so?” The pink-skinned half-Elf sounds, and looks, genuinely curious as she waits for a more detailed explanation.

Beryl trails her gaze alongside the decorated pathway, taking in the sights of this manicured garden. “It is too orderly. Beautiful, aye, but clearly arranged fer tha’ sole reason.” She idly reaches her free hand towards a bush, outstretched fingers gently brushing across a soft leafy shrub. “The occupants o’ this garden aren’t sufferin’ from tha’ decision, but they aren’t thrivin’ either. They are stagnant, ‘eld captive in their little plots. Those whose ‘ealth would benefit from bein’ grouped are instead placed apart, paired wit’ others fer appearances sake alone. Those who could stand ta grow are kept from reachin’ their full potential, instead ‘avin’ their natural beauty trimmed away and replaced wit’ pleasingly tidy shapes.”

“And I presume there is little to be done about that?”

“Aye.” The Wood Elf nods her head. “Nothin’ short o’ diggin’ up and movin’ around near everythin’ would ‘elp, but many o’ these delicate lives would be lost in the process. And while it is natures course fer the weak ta be culled so those more fit ta survive can thrive, this place isn’t in natures domain. The rules need not apply. This garden serves its purpose, so let it continue ta do so.”

“Getting a bit philosophical now, are you~?” Krvavy teasingly asks, giving Beryl’s hand a light squeeze as she draws her Elf’s attention. “Or are you just trying to live up to some plant-loving stereotype~?”

“Bein’ out and about ‘as gotten me thinkin’, ya know tha’.” The tanned tomboy’s lips twist into a slightly smug smirk as she meets the Drakling’s emerald eyes. “Besides, ‘ave got ta show the Countess ‘ere tha’ at least one o’ us ‘as somethin’ goin’ on in our ‘eads~.”

“I have plenty of things going on in here,” Krvavy taps a finger against her temple as she speaks in a mock serious tone, “thank you very much.”

“Oh, is tha’ so?” Beryl clasps onto the barbarian’s hand with both of her own, smug smile shifting into some attempt at looking innocent. “And just ‘ow many o’ those ‘things’ are appropriate fer a civilized conversation wit’ a refined noblewoman, my dearest love~?”

“Depends on just who our audience is~.”

“Ahh... So none o’ them.” Beryl playfully sighs out, briefly tightening her grip on the barbarian’s hand as she shakes her head.

The albino maid’s scowl only deepens as she is **** to listen to that playful conversation. Vera’s pink eyes glare from within the shadow cast by her parasol, remaining locked onto the two guests that she appears to legitimately detest.

In stark contrast to her maid, Rina seems to only grow happier as the two lovers banter in front of her. The Countess’ smile may be a little subdued as she maintains her regal composure, but that doesn’t make it any less genuine.

“Don’t act like you are any better.”

The Wood Elf woman raises an eyebrow as she meets Krvavy’s teasing gaze. “My dearest love,” she plainly begins, “Ah was just talkin’ about the ‘ealth o’ this garden. Ya couldn’t’ve forgotten tha’ already, so are ya tryin’ ta prove me right about wha’ sort o’ things ya ‘ave goin’ on up there~?”

A grin fills the Drakling’s face, even as she sarcastically rolls her eyes.

Just a short distance ahead, the pathway opens up into a small square courtyard. Beautiful beds of lilies backed by trimmed hedges border three quarters of this cozy clearing, surrounding it with walls of lively green covered in splashes of pink. An ornate railing stands at the one edge of the courtyard not penned in by a hedge, separating this terrace from the calm pond that it overlooks. A single fountain resides in the middle of that body of water, gently raining onto a number of water lilies and circular pads.

“Not the most original name fer this place.” Beryl keeps her tone light as she makes that comment.

“Would you believe me if I said that this terrace was named after a girl called ‘Lily’?” The Countess asks, her painted lips curling up into an almost teasing smile.

The unfriendly maid scowls and wordlessly steps away from the others, bringing the shade of her parasol with her. Those pale pink eyes of hers narrow into a brief glare, directed both at Beryl and the barbarian, as she pulls a cloth from a pouch on her apron. Vera heads over towards the terraces edge, where a table with a large umbrella skewered through its center rests against the railing. Without letting the two guests leave her sight, she begins dutifully wiping down the tables surface and then the seats around it.

The Wood Elf considers her answer for just a couple seconds. “Tha’ is somethin’ Ah tha’ could believe...” She trails off while glancing around at the various flowers, most of which are white or shades of pink. “But,” Beryl’s gaze returns to the Countess, “Ah ‘ave a feelin’ tha’ isn’t the case.”

Rina slowly nods her head. “You would be right. It is simply a descriptive name. And not one that I came up with either, so I do not mind if you feel the need to mock its lack of originality.”

“I think it’s a good enough name.” Krvavy idly shrugs. “Not fancy, sure, but not bad either.”

“Ach, ya aren’t one ta judge tha’, my dearest love.” Beryl playfully rolls her eyes. “Ya call our ‘ome ‘the cave’ or ‘the grotto’. If we ‘ad a place like this, then ya’d call it ‘lily terrace’ too.”

“It isn’t easy coming up with good names, alright?” The Drakling defensively replies, only slightly exaggerating her reaction.

“Always excuses wit’ ya~...” A long sigh escapes past the Elf’s lips, the exasperated noise made teasing by the smile filling her face.

Vera continues to scowl as she places some fancy cushions onto the seats, having just retrieved them from a small shed set into one of the beautifully trimmed hedges surrounding this private courtyard.

“Come, come. Let us sit and relax.” Rina’s amethyst eyes fill with warmth as she turns to her grumpy maid, causing the albino girl’s pale cheeks to grow faintly pink. “Thank you, dear.” The Countess’ voice drips with affection as her personal maid pulls a chair out for her.

Vera struggles to keep an angry expression on her face, having to focus her attention towards the Drakling to even slightly maintain her antagonistic aura.

Krvavy completely ignores that glare, occupied with trying to not look awkward while lowering herself into one of the seats. She does not do a good job at that. Not only does her thick tail want to be in the same space as the backrest, but the chair itself is a bit small for her. Both in its height and in its actual size.

“Apologies,” a slight bit of guilt enters the Countess voice, “these chairs are not built for a woman of your stature. Or of your race.” The pink-skinned half-Elf glances back over her shoulder, looking to the maid standing behind her. “Ve–”

“Ach,” Beryl cuts the Countess off, crossing her arms as she remains standing by Krvavy’s side. “My dearest love is used ta sittin’ on rocks. But if ya are goin’ ta make a fuss about this seat, then why don’t Ah show off by growin’ ‘er a better one?”

Rina raises an eyebrow and stares at the tanned tomboy. “The two of you are my guests, so I should see to it that you are comfortable. That said...” A curious gleam fills her alluring eyes, growing by the second. “It would be rude of me to turn down that offer, as you could solve this issue much faster than I.”

“Bein’ coy, aye~?” The Wood Elf woman teases, her lips spreading into a smug smile. “Don’t want ta openly admit just ‘ow interested ya are in seein’ a true daughter o’ the forest do ‘er work~? Well, no matter~. Watch and be awed~!”

Green sprouts reach out from the nearest hedge, twisting together and moving through the air like a snake slithering through sand. The vine touches Beryl’s outstretched hand, caressing her caramel skin and the leafy bracelet around her wrist as it continues on down towards the ground, its tip splitting as it begins to form a frame.

The braided vine withers at its origin, shrinking into nothing and separating from the hedge, while its other end swells with life, growing thicker as the chair comes into shape. Vibrant green darkens to a rich brown as the plant matter hardens into solid wood. Gentle arcs dominate the increasingly grand visage of this chair, branches intertwined with sturdy trunks in a show of natures beauty and splendour.

Knots appear on the otherwise smooth bark, a lively bud bulging out from the center of each one. Some buds spread out into leafy fans, others bloom into rosy flowers whose exquisite elegance puts the lilies around this terrace to shame. A carpet of soft moss spreads across the seat and backrest just as the final remnants of the vines pull away from Beryl’s hand.

“Tada~!” The tanned tomboy exaggeratedly gestures towards the imposing tree of a chair, grinning widely all the while.

Rina’s inquisitive gaze trails up and down the Wood Elf’s work, taking in every little detail. “Impressive,” she breathes out, her voice filled with genuine awe. “You have such fine control over the ebb and flow of your mana...”

“Aww, no need ta compliment me~.” Beryl’s humble words are completely undermined by how pridefully she is holding herself. “This is just a chair fer my dearest love. And speakin’ o’,” she turns her smug gaze towards the Drakling, “sit, sit~! Go on, ‘ave a seat~!”

Krvavy lets herself get pulled over and then pushed towards the freshly grown chair. Her thick tail easily slips through the arched hole beneath the padded backrest as she pulls the heavy thing up against the table, entering the shade being cast by the large umbrella. “Did you need to make it look so much like a throne...?”

Beryl’s blue-green eyes twinkle playfully as she ignores that sighed question. Without any hesitation, she wraps an arm around Krvavy’s shoulders and all but jumps into her Draconic lover’s lap.

“Rea–” the barbarian briefly pauses as she receives a quick kiss on her cheek “–lly...?”

“So, now tha’ we’re all seated...” Beryl nuzzles into the barbarian’s body and turns her still rather smug gaze towards the Countess.