Branwen/Meredith; D:
Branwen
Meredith
Branwen goes RAAH and Meredith goes X< and then they... have tea?
She never should have offered in the first place.
Branwen went stalking across the cathedral to find the new Fire Oracle. Well, not necessarily stalking...It was more like gliding, if gliding was done on the ground and looked like a gracefully stomping elegant ballerina elephant. Somehow, the walk managed to retain its grace and convery her frustration all at the same time.
This was a little much to handle. Though the new Oracle had not seemed rude or anything of the like, Branwen had been worked into a lather by the dispositions of some of the new guardians. It was anger by association. And she missed Ethne and Lethe and Lilith and---
Branwen was very rapidly running out of family.
Moving along the circular halls of the fire cul de sac, Branwen stopped in front of Ethne Meredith's door and, after briefly pondering if she should just barge on in, knocked gently.
Meredith hopped up quickly from her bed, in the process knocking over one of her suitcases and causing herself to half-stumble to the door. "C-coming!" she called hastily. She didn't want whoever it was to leave! That wouldn't be any g- Her hand stopped dead above the handle. Oh. Oh. Lady Branwen? And she was. Oh. She was not... not happy... She hesitated, drawing her hand back from the doorknob. Don't think about it, don't think about it, ignore it, let's not read thoughts, let's not read thoughts, thoughts is what we'll not- She cut off her silent song. It'd be okay, it'd be fine, she'd be really nice and quiet and humble and show Lady Branwen that she really didn't mean any harm! Right.
It took her another minute to finally reach out and open the door, wide-eyed and very visibly nervous. "T-thanks, you can-" She quickly skittered to one side of the doorway. "Come in."
"Thank you." Surveying the room, Branwen bitterly realized how little it had changed. Meredith was truthfully at a disadvantage, for Branwen had admittedly spent more time with Ethne than some of the other girls, and had grown closer to her. So, Meredith was an easy scapegoat in a situation that had very little real blame.
Her eyes darted to the suitcased. "Please tell me what you need assistance with."
"Oh, well, um-" She looked to her suitcases and boxes, and suddenly felt very foolish for asking Branwen to help her. Oh, she really wasn't happy. And she was so pretty! She wished the Ghost Oracle could listen to her thoughts, and then maybe she wouldn't be as mad at her so much. "I mean, I can do my clothes, and, and that, but my family and a bunch of people from my town sent me paintings and ornaments and little statues and things to put up and some of them are really..." It was then that her voice failed, and she stared down at her sandaled feet. "S-sorry. You don't have to. I didn't mean to, to waste your time." She bit her lip, trying very hard not to cry in front of this beautiful, stern woman. "I-I'm sorry about the Lady Ethne too..."
That was a terrible, terrible comment to make, and Branwen's face reflected it briefly, perhaps more than her thoughts did. She flinched physically.
"Her betrayal was unfortunate. I wish that we had been able to see it." That was the truth. Branwen would have stopped Ethne if she had known. Or at least she told herself that.
She knew that Meredith would follow her thoughts, and made no attempt to conceal them. Biting her lip in frustration. "I have nothing else to do. I will help you place them." A small part of her hoped that Meredith was frightened.
Meredith steeled herself. Oh Freya oh Freya don't cry don't cry she already doesn't like you she'll think you're a loser too no no no stop it. She pinched her forearm hard, out of Branwen's view, and it helped, but only a little. "Th-thank you." Her eyes were still stinging. Just get a box! She stumbled over to one and knelt by it, concentrating hard on opening it to keep from listening to Branwen's thoughts.
She was certainly clumsy. But, Branwen justified in the same thought-breath, that probably wasn't her fault.
"There will no doubt be some fine china left over in the cupboards. I do not know what you want done with that." It wasn't Meredith's china anyway. Did it really have an owner at all.
Sighing, Branwen scenned the walls. There was a large empty space on the west wall. It would be a nice place to hang a painting.
"Oh? I can keep it- I mean, if you want me to!" she amended hastily, quickly burying her head back in the box. It was full of little presents - sweets, handmade devotional statues of Freya, prayer beads, barettes... Her town had been so proud of her. She didn't even remember them... She turned a small statue of a mermaid over in her hand and smiled. Her name meant 'sea lady', but she'd been picked as the Fire... She looked up at Branwen, realizing that the other might not like her daydreaming at a statue, and she quickly set it onto her windowsill.
"The wall looks good," she agreed, smiling before she realized she'd read the other Oracle's thoughts again, and she quickly took to busying herself with the box again, cheeks burning.
It was a pity that Branwen couldn't read Meredith's thoughts, after all. She may have sympathized with her more. She did not know where she had come from at all. Someone had sent her silver, once, when she was appointed, and that had been it. As much as Branwen fought the though of these other oracles, they had a lot in common that she was not willing to admit.
She was used to having her mind read by now, even if having someone else do it made her flinch. Surprisingly, it did not bother her.
"Perhaps we could move that." Branwen gestured towards a bureau in the far corner. "It might make a nice display." It did look very heavy. "If I may."
Meredith lifted her head to look from the bureau to Branwen and back. She could... lift that? Really? She only nodded slowly. Branwen's thoughts said she thought it was very heavy too, so what did she plan to do with it?
Why, pick it up, of course (with her mind)!
And speaking of that bare wall, that would be a nice place to put something. Then perhaps another smaller cabinet beside it, and a painting over them both. Then Meredith could have her own little special awesome stuck-up replacement trophy shelf.
Branwen lifted the bureau higher off the floor than she really needed too, an unintentional intimidation tactic. Of course, Branwen's frustration often led to errors in her powers, so when she placed the dresser against the wall, it fell the last six inches or so.
The younger Oracle jumped at the noise the bureau made when it fell. Oh... Oh, if she made Branwen angry... oh. She would crush her with a cabinet!
"I-it looks nice there!" she said, her voice cracking.
Oh, shit. She honestly had not meant to do that, and where Branwen should have felt satisfied that she had startled the younger girl, she merely felt remorse. At least she could have scared her intentionally.
"I am sorry," she apologized. "I do not think that it is broken." Um. Well, shit. There went the intimidation tactic, all of kilter!
It... it looked fine. Or so she thought.
But Branwen wanted to scare her? Why? Didn't she already seem scared? She was...
Meredith bit her lip and nodded. "It's okay! Everyone makes mistakes, right?" She tried giving Branwen a smile, but it faltered too much to be convincing. Wait. What if she got upset because Meredith had implied she'd made a mistake? Did she not like that? She was mucking things up so badly...
"Yes, of course." Just like coming here to help had been a mistake, right? "If you would give me some things, I can place them for you." She dusted the top of the dresser idly with her finger. The maids had kept it clean for its new owner.
Luckily, the thought of breaking Meredith's gifts was too nasty even for Branwen, in all her righteous anger, to contemplate.
She nodded, making up another song of don'tlistendon'tlisten in her head to avoid focusing on what Branwen was thinking about her now, and dug in the box for the largest of the devotional statues she'd recieved, carved in ivory. She knew her father had made it without needing to see the note that fluttered from it when she pulled it out. She should feel happy, she thought, the sad sort of happy, seeing that he'd done this for her, but she couldn't remember him enough to feel either way. She was just grateful...
"Here," she said quietly, not meeting Branwen's eyes as she held the statue out to her.
Oh, that was heavier than it looked. And quite pretty. "This is very beautiful." Cradling the statue by the base, Branwen knelt to retrieve the note from the floor. "You dropped this." She was going to leave her powers alone, for now. They were too volatile and she was too upset to handle them properly.
"Receiving these must have made you feel very proud."
She gave a timid nod. "Grateful, more, th-that, that I was blessed." Her eyes were on the statue in Branwen's hand, and her expression sad. "I never expected... I wasn't very good. The others... they would've been much better."
"Of course." Gingerly turning the figurine over in her hands, Branwen traced the features with her index finger. "But I am sure that thinking that way will not help you. You were no doubt chosen for a reason." The girl did seem so very nervous. Of course, having Branwen scowling at her probably didn't help.
Feeling that she was getting a bit too conversational, Branwen pulled away, and walked to the bureau to place the statue.
She nodded again, but it was clear she didn't agree. She set to hanging things onto the wall with a few tacks between her teeth - first a painting of a bird, then a scroll of prayers written in Feltzen, then a small ornament in the shape of a flame. A larger painting she waffled over for a moment, eyes going from angry Oracle to painting to Oracle again.
"Could you help me with this one?" she asked timidly.
"Hmm. Of course." Branwen left the figurines and the bureau. They could have lifted the painting together if they tried manually. "I can lift it, if you put the tacks in." Branwen paused slightly. "Please." Damn the manners!
The painting was beautiful, too. As she waited for the other Oracle's answer, Branwen stooped to perus it. She traced the canvas, feeling out the medium, running the brush strokes with her finger tips. If only she could capture scenes like that.
Meredith dutifully set to putting the tacks in the wall, teetering on the tips of her toes to reach a respectable height for them. "Alright, there-" She looked over her shoulder, watching Branwen stroke the painting with faint, visible surprise. She liked painting?
"You paint?" she asked quietly, almost afraid to disturb the other Oracle. The woman's thoughts had changed so quickly...
Like a deer in some sort of invisible headlights, Branwen shrunk back from the painting and stood.
"Yes," she mumbled in reply. "It is just a hobby. I have had a lot of time on my hands." She had stuttered a little bit, somewhere in that sentence.
She smiled, and it was only faintly hesitant now. "I bet you're amazing! Do you show them to people?"
"There are a few in my room. I do not usually show them...unless people ask." Once in a while she would jump on Ciera or Marcine, since they had been her first human models, or drew publicly in the journals, but that was the extent of it. Her exhibition ended there.
If Meredith really wanted to see, she could show her...
She didn't want to say that out loud.
Did... did that mean she could ask? Or was it one of those things that she was supposed to wait to be offered or... Sometimes the thoughts behind the words were much more complicated than the words themselves. She wondered if she'd ever be able to not listen to them.
"Could... could I see them?"
"If you would like to." She could hide the pride and satisfaction on her face, but unfortunately not in her head. "Oh, I will hang this up now. Please move." Paintings were suprisingly heavy once they were prepped and framed.
She moved obediantly, smiling brighter than before. Lady Branwen was... well, not happy, really, but she wasn't angry at her. It was... an improvement? "Thanks!"
"Hm." Okay, Branwen, just try to keep the :| face on and save a little bit of your dignity. "Tell me if that looks all right."
She stepped back, nearly tripping on a box she hadn't seen, and righted herself quickly with a blush to look at the painting Branwen had hung. "Mhmm!" she hummed in agreement. She took a glance over her shoulder. She had a lot of other things to put up - her town had been exceedingly generous - but none quite as big as the painting. And really, what she'd wanted was just a bit of "get-to-know-you" talk, of the kind she'd never really had before, while the two put things up. But Branwen had made it... well, she didn't seem like she wanted to stay to do something trivial like that. "That's all then, I guess," she told the other with a nervous smile.
Oh, but there were still boxes left...But perhaps the new oracle wanted privacy or time to sulk and ruin Ethne's things.
"If you are certain." If she wanted her to vacate the room, what else could she do?
Her cheeks burned. Ruin- Why would she do that? "Un-" She faltered. Don't listen don't listen don't listen no thoughts no thoughts no- "Unless you want to stay." She would say no. Or she'd say yes, but think no. That was worse. She stared down at her feet, one hand picking at the edge of her dress.
Because Branwen was suspicious and grumpy! Sorry, Meredith.
Hmm. "If there is something else that I can assist you with." That wasn't really yes or no, now was it? Branwen paused and thought for a moment. There wasn't any harm is asking this, was there...? "I wonder if you like tea." Tea was a bonding exercise here, after all...And maybe she shouldn't really be bonding with the new kids, but...hm.
Tea? Meredith looked uncertainly up at Branwen. Was that a code? "Y-yes," she replied hesitantly. Forbidden to drink alcohol as the Oracles were, tea was the drink of choice in training. Out too, it sounded like...
Well, not always!
It wasn't code now, for instance. That would just be creepy and kind of gross!
"I will ask a maid to bring some." Which she did. Rather intimidatingly.
Tea was really something she had shared with the others; this was like conferring with the enemy. No, enemy was a bad word, a bad thought. The new people were many things. They were intruders, but they were not enemies. Even in her disgruntled state, Branwen could recognize that. Feeling rather guilty, knowing that Meredith was privy to this train of thought, Branwen began to play with one of the statues on the dresser.
Would Lady Kaethe and the old Guardians be as hard to impress? Meredith bit her lip, her eyes widening a bit at Branwen's tone when she spoke to the maid. She'd had a personal maid when she'd trained, but she'd never spoken to her like that. Things were going to be very different here, and she was sure this was not the most of it. She suddenly felt very small and very young.
She fumbled with her own fingers nervously. "S-so..." She tried hard to read something from Branwen she liked, something that wouldn't be bad of her to ask about. "W-what are your Guardians like?"
And Meredith's maid had not been cruel to her, had she?
Hmm? Her guardians. Well, they certainly rude like some of the new ones. There were so many ways to answer this question, but as Branwen began thinking, so focused more and more on them and less on the disrespectful new guardians.
"They are...very loyal. They are well trained. Lee and Vera are younger and Lee is..." Branwen had to pause here, because she laughed a little. "Lee is a pimp, but I think that he is stronger than people take him for. Ciera is saner than the rest of us." She smiled and bit her lip slightly. "They are my family."
She kept herself from asking what a pimp was. Whatever it meant, Branwen seemed to find it cute and funny, so she assumed it was good. "They sound nice," she said, wishing she could say something more than that. Her own Guardians... Siegfried and Hebe seemed to like her, but Casey... She had disappointed one of her own Guardians already.
When the maid returned, she gave her a small, dimpled smile and took the tray from her with a shy, "Thank you." She felt a bit bad for her; Meredith found Branwen imposing, and the Ghost Oracle couldn't get her fired.
That was probably a good thing. Lee tended to defy description.
Branwen was only imposing when she was grumpy, really.
"They are. It is...easier...once you spend some time together." She had certainly been apprehensive of working with her guardians at first. "They are good people." And she felt so many more things about them that she could not voice.
She set the tray down on a small, low table in the center of her room and clumsily kneeled in front of it. "Did-...when you started, did any of them... not like you?"
"I...do not believe so." If they had, it had been very subtle. "I was lucky." Dear Freya, at least they hadn't been like this. Branwen was not the mind reader of the two, but she could see Meredith's concern. "I believe you are having some disagreements. Perhaps it will improve with time. There are a lot of things that they must take in now."
She was reassuring everyone lately, even this baby oracle that she was supposed to hate. It was like there was some great distress in the world (well, there was) and words were strong enough to mend the divides.
Meredith nodded uncertainly. She wanted to believe Branwen, she did, but it was hard. Casey didn't seem to have a disagreement with her so much as... hate her. Still, the Ghost Oracle didn't seem to be in a hurry to be nice to her, so maybe she was telling the truth? She wasn't thinking anything different...
The younger Oracle took a sip of tea, making a soft noise of surprise and drawing back when it burned her tongue. Oh, good job! "Hot," she mumbled by way of explanation, her eyes stinging. Dummy!
"Oh, I am sorry." She was, really. "There is more cream." Blowing on her own tea before taking a sip, Branwen pulled the cup to her chest and bit her lip. "Here," she said finally, passing the dainty pitcher of milk over to the younger girl.
"Thanks." She had to grip the handle hard to keep it from over-tipping when she poured it, and her wrist shook. "Thanks for, for helping me put stuff up and... stuff, too."
She still looked so nervous...
Branwen chuckled slightly, not at Meredith's words but at 'stuff.'
"You are welcome." Meredeth wasn't bad.
But she was not Ethne.
Meredith
Branwen goes RAAH and Meredith goes X< and then they... have tea?
She never should have offered in the first place.
Branwen went stalking across the cathedral to find the new Fire Oracle. Well, not necessarily stalking...It was more like gliding, if gliding was done on the ground and looked like a gracefully stomping elegant ballerina elephant. Somehow, the walk managed to retain its grace and convery her frustration all at the same time.
This was a little much to handle. Though the new Oracle had not seemed rude or anything of the like, Branwen had been worked into a lather by the dispositions of some of the new guardians. It was anger by association. And she missed Ethne and Lethe and Lilith and---
Branwen was very rapidly running out of family.
Moving along the circular halls of the fire cul de sac, Branwen stopped in front of Ethne Meredith's door and, after briefly pondering if she should just barge on in, knocked gently.
Meredith hopped up quickly from her bed, in the process knocking over one of her suitcases and causing herself to half-stumble to the door. "C-coming!" she called hastily. She didn't want whoever it was to leave! That wouldn't be any g- Her hand stopped dead above the handle. Oh. Oh. Lady Branwen? And she was. Oh. She was not... not happy... She hesitated, drawing her hand back from the doorknob. Don't think about it, don't think about it, ignore it, let's not read thoughts, let's not read thoughts, thoughts is what we'll not- She cut off her silent song. It'd be okay, it'd be fine, she'd be really nice and quiet and humble and show Lady Branwen that she really didn't mean any harm! Right.
It took her another minute to finally reach out and open the door, wide-eyed and very visibly nervous. "T-thanks, you can-" She quickly skittered to one side of the doorway. "Come in."
"Thank you." Surveying the room, Branwen bitterly realized how little it had changed. Meredith was truthfully at a disadvantage, for Branwen had admittedly spent more time with Ethne than some of the other girls, and had grown closer to her. So, Meredith was an easy scapegoat in a situation that had very little real blame.
Her eyes darted to the suitcased. "Please tell me what you need assistance with."
"Oh, well, um-" She looked to her suitcases and boxes, and suddenly felt very foolish for asking Branwen to help her. Oh, she really wasn't happy. And she was so pretty! She wished the Ghost Oracle could listen to her thoughts, and then maybe she wouldn't be as mad at her so much. "I mean, I can do my clothes, and, and that, but my family and a bunch of people from my town sent me paintings and ornaments and little statues and things to put up and some of them are really..." It was then that her voice failed, and she stared down at her sandaled feet. "S-sorry. You don't have to. I didn't mean to, to waste your time." She bit her lip, trying very hard not to cry in front of this beautiful, stern woman. "I-I'm sorry about the Lady Ethne too..."
That was a terrible, terrible comment to make, and Branwen's face reflected it briefly, perhaps more than her thoughts did. She flinched physically.
"Her betrayal was unfortunate. I wish that we had been able to see it." That was the truth. Branwen would have stopped Ethne if she had known. Or at least she told herself that.
She knew that Meredith would follow her thoughts, and made no attempt to conceal them. Biting her lip in frustration. "I have nothing else to do. I will help you place them." A small part of her hoped that Meredith was frightened.
Meredith steeled herself. Oh Freya oh Freya don't cry don't cry she already doesn't like you she'll think you're a loser too no no no stop it. She pinched her forearm hard, out of Branwen's view, and it helped, but only a little. "Th-thank you." Her eyes were still stinging. Just get a box! She stumbled over to one and knelt by it, concentrating hard on opening it to keep from listening to Branwen's thoughts.
She was certainly clumsy. But, Branwen justified in the same thought-breath, that probably wasn't her fault.
"There will no doubt be some fine china left over in the cupboards. I do not know what you want done with that." It wasn't Meredith's china anyway. Did it really have an owner at all.
Sighing, Branwen scenned the walls. There was a large empty space on the west wall. It would be a nice place to hang a painting.
"Oh? I can keep it- I mean, if you want me to!" she amended hastily, quickly burying her head back in the box. It was full of little presents - sweets, handmade devotional statues of Freya, prayer beads, barettes... Her town had been so proud of her. She didn't even remember them... She turned a small statue of a mermaid over in her hand and smiled. Her name meant 'sea lady', but she'd been picked as the Fire... She looked up at Branwen, realizing that the other might not like her daydreaming at a statue, and she quickly set it onto her windowsill.
"The wall looks good," she agreed, smiling before she realized she'd read the other Oracle's thoughts again, and she quickly took to busying herself with the box again, cheeks burning.
It was a pity that Branwen couldn't read Meredith's thoughts, after all. She may have sympathized with her more. She did not know where she had come from at all. Someone had sent her silver, once, when she was appointed, and that had been it. As much as Branwen fought the though of these other oracles, they had a lot in common that she was not willing to admit.
She was used to having her mind read by now, even if having someone else do it made her flinch. Surprisingly, it did not bother her.
"Perhaps we could move that." Branwen gestured towards a bureau in the far corner. "It might make a nice display." It did look very heavy. "If I may."
Meredith lifted her head to look from the bureau to Branwen and back. She could... lift that? Really? She only nodded slowly. Branwen's thoughts said she thought it was very heavy too, so what did she plan to do with it?
Why, pick it up, of course (with her mind)!
And speaking of that bare wall, that would be a nice place to put something. Then perhaps another smaller cabinet beside it, and a painting over them both. Then Meredith could have her own little special awesome stuck-up replacement trophy shelf.
Branwen lifted the bureau higher off the floor than she really needed too, an unintentional intimidation tactic. Of course, Branwen's frustration often led to errors in her powers, so when she placed the dresser against the wall, it fell the last six inches or so.
The younger Oracle jumped at the noise the bureau made when it fell. Oh... Oh, if she made Branwen angry... oh. She would crush her with a cabinet!
"I-it looks nice there!" she said, her voice cracking.
Oh, shit. She honestly had not meant to do that, and where Branwen should have felt satisfied that she had startled the younger girl, she merely felt remorse. At least she could have scared her intentionally.
"I am sorry," she apologized. "I do not think that it is broken." Um. Well, shit. There went the intimidation tactic, all of kilter!
It... it looked fine. Or so she thought.
But Branwen wanted to scare her? Why? Didn't she already seem scared? She was...
Meredith bit her lip and nodded. "It's okay! Everyone makes mistakes, right?" She tried giving Branwen a smile, but it faltered too much to be convincing. Wait. What if she got upset because Meredith had implied she'd made a mistake? Did she not like that? She was mucking things up so badly...
"Yes, of course." Just like coming here to help had been a mistake, right? "If you would give me some things, I can place them for you." She dusted the top of the dresser idly with her finger. The maids had kept it clean for its new owner.
Luckily, the thought of breaking Meredith's gifts was too nasty even for Branwen, in all her righteous anger, to contemplate.
She nodded, making up another song of don'tlistendon'tlisten in her head to avoid focusing on what Branwen was thinking about her now, and dug in the box for the largest of the devotional statues she'd recieved, carved in ivory. She knew her father had made it without needing to see the note that fluttered from it when she pulled it out. She should feel happy, she thought, the sad sort of happy, seeing that he'd done this for her, but she couldn't remember him enough to feel either way. She was just grateful...
"Here," she said quietly, not meeting Branwen's eyes as she held the statue out to her.
Oh, that was heavier than it looked. And quite pretty. "This is very beautiful." Cradling the statue by the base, Branwen knelt to retrieve the note from the floor. "You dropped this." She was going to leave her powers alone, for now. They were too volatile and she was too upset to handle them properly.
"Receiving these must have made you feel very proud."
She gave a timid nod. "Grateful, more, th-that, that I was blessed." Her eyes were on the statue in Branwen's hand, and her expression sad. "I never expected... I wasn't very good. The others... they would've been much better."
"Of course." Gingerly turning the figurine over in her hands, Branwen traced the features with her index finger. "But I am sure that thinking that way will not help you. You were no doubt chosen for a reason." The girl did seem so very nervous. Of course, having Branwen scowling at her probably didn't help.
Feeling that she was getting a bit too conversational, Branwen pulled away, and walked to the bureau to place the statue.
She nodded again, but it was clear she didn't agree. She set to hanging things onto the wall with a few tacks between her teeth - first a painting of a bird, then a scroll of prayers written in Feltzen, then a small ornament in the shape of a flame. A larger painting she waffled over for a moment, eyes going from angry Oracle to painting to Oracle again.
"Could you help me with this one?" she asked timidly.
"Hmm. Of course." Branwen left the figurines and the bureau. They could have lifted the painting together if they tried manually. "I can lift it, if you put the tacks in." Branwen paused slightly. "Please." Damn the manners!
The painting was beautiful, too. As she waited for the other Oracle's answer, Branwen stooped to perus it. She traced the canvas, feeling out the medium, running the brush strokes with her finger tips. If only she could capture scenes like that.
Meredith dutifully set to putting the tacks in the wall, teetering on the tips of her toes to reach a respectable height for them. "Alright, there-" She looked over her shoulder, watching Branwen stroke the painting with faint, visible surprise. She liked painting?
"You paint?" she asked quietly, almost afraid to disturb the other Oracle. The woman's thoughts had changed so quickly...
Like a deer in some sort of invisible headlights, Branwen shrunk back from the painting and stood.
"Yes," she mumbled in reply. "It is just a hobby. I have had a lot of time on my hands." She had stuttered a little bit, somewhere in that sentence.
She smiled, and it was only faintly hesitant now. "I bet you're amazing! Do you show them to people?"
"There are a few in my room. I do not usually show them...unless people ask." Once in a while she would jump on Ciera or Marcine, since they had been her first human models, or drew publicly in the journals, but that was the extent of it. Her exhibition ended there.
If Meredith really wanted to see, she could show her...
She didn't want to say that out loud.
Did... did that mean she could ask? Or was it one of those things that she was supposed to wait to be offered or... Sometimes the thoughts behind the words were much more complicated than the words themselves. She wondered if she'd ever be able to not listen to them.
"Could... could I see them?"
"If you would like to." She could hide the pride and satisfaction on her face, but unfortunately not in her head. "Oh, I will hang this up now. Please move." Paintings were suprisingly heavy once they were prepped and framed.
She moved obediantly, smiling brighter than before. Lady Branwen was... well, not happy, really, but she wasn't angry at her. It was... an improvement? "Thanks!"
"Hm." Okay, Branwen, just try to keep the :| face on and save a little bit of your dignity. "Tell me if that looks all right."
She stepped back, nearly tripping on a box she hadn't seen, and righted herself quickly with a blush to look at the painting Branwen had hung. "Mhmm!" she hummed in agreement. She took a glance over her shoulder. She had a lot of other things to put up - her town had been exceedingly generous - but none quite as big as the painting. And really, what she'd wanted was just a bit of "get-to-know-you" talk, of the kind she'd never really had before, while the two put things up. But Branwen had made it... well, she didn't seem like she wanted to stay to do something trivial like that. "That's all then, I guess," she told the other with a nervous smile.
Oh, but there were still boxes left...But perhaps the new oracle wanted privacy or time to sulk and ruin Ethne's things.
"If you are certain." If she wanted her to vacate the room, what else could she do?
Her cheeks burned. Ruin- Why would she do that? "Un-" She faltered. Don't listen don't listen don't listen no thoughts no thoughts no- "Unless you want to stay." She would say no. Or she'd say yes, but think no. That was worse. She stared down at her feet, one hand picking at the edge of her dress.
Because Branwen was suspicious and grumpy! Sorry, Meredith.
Hmm. "If there is something else that I can assist you with." That wasn't really yes or no, now was it? Branwen paused and thought for a moment. There wasn't any harm is asking this, was there...? "I wonder if you like tea." Tea was a bonding exercise here, after all...And maybe she shouldn't really be bonding with the new kids, but...hm.
Tea? Meredith looked uncertainly up at Branwen. Was that a code? "Y-yes," she replied hesitantly. Forbidden to drink alcohol as the Oracles were, tea was the drink of choice in training. Out too, it sounded like...
Well, not always!
It wasn't code now, for instance. That would just be creepy and kind of gross!
"I will ask a maid to bring some." Which she did. Rather intimidatingly.
Tea was really something she had shared with the others; this was like conferring with the enemy. No, enemy was a bad word, a bad thought. The new people were many things. They were intruders, but they were not enemies. Even in her disgruntled state, Branwen could recognize that. Feeling rather guilty, knowing that Meredith was privy to this train of thought, Branwen began to play with one of the statues on the dresser.
Would Lady Kaethe and the old Guardians be as hard to impress? Meredith bit her lip, her eyes widening a bit at Branwen's tone when she spoke to the maid. She'd had a personal maid when she'd trained, but she'd never spoken to her like that. Things were going to be very different here, and she was sure this was not the most of it. She suddenly felt very small and very young.
She fumbled with her own fingers nervously. "S-so..." She tried hard to read something from Branwen she liked, something that wouldn't be bad of her to ask about. "W-what are your Guardians like?"
And Meredith's maid had not been cruel to her, had she?
Hmm? Her guardians. Well, they certainly rude like some of the new ones. There were so many ways to answer this question, but as Branwen began thinking, so focused more and more on them and less on the disrespectful new guardians.
"They are...very loyal. They are well trained. Lee and Vera are younger and Lee is..." Branwen had to pause here, because she laughed a little. "Lee is a pimp, but I think that he is stronger than people take him for. Ciera is saner than the rest of us." She smiled and bit her lip slightly. "They are my family."
She kept herself from asking what a pimp was. Whatever it meant, Branwen seemed to find it cute and funny, so she assumed it was good. "They sound nice," she said, wishing she could say something more than that. Her own Guardians... Siegfried and Hebe seemed to like her, but Casey... She had disappointed one of her own Guardians already.
When the maid returned, she gave her a small, dimpled smile and took the tray from her with a shy, "Thank you." She felt a bit bad for her; Meredith found Branwen imposing, and the Ghost Oracle couldn't get her fired.
That was probably a good thing. Lee tended to defy description.
Branwen was only imposing when she was grumpy, really.
"They are. It is...easier...once you spend some time together." She had certainly been apprehensive of working with her guardians at first. "They are good people." And she felt so many more things about them that she could not voice.
She set the tray down on a small, low table in the center of her room and clumsily kneeled in front of it. "Did-...when you started, did any of them... not like you?"
"I...do not believe so." If they had, it had been very subtle. "I was lucky." Dear Freya, at least they hadn't been like this. Branwen was not the mind reader of the two, but she could see Meredith's concern. "I believe you are having some disagreements. Perhaps it will improve with time. There are a lot of things that they must take in now."
She was reassuring everyone lately, even this baby oracle that she was supposed to hate. It was like there was some great distress in the world (well, there was) and words were strong enough to mend the divides.
Meredith nodded uncertainly. She wanted to believe Branwen, she did, but it was hard. Casey didn't seem to have a disagreement with her so much as... hate her. Still, the Ghost Oracle didn't seem to be in a hurry to be nice to her, so maybe she was telling the truth? She wasn't thinking anything different...
The younger Oracle took a sip of tea, making a soft noise of surprise and drawing back when it burned her tongue. Oh, good job! "Hot," she mumbled by way of explanation, her eyes stinging. Dummy!
"Oh, I am sorry." She was, really. "There is more cream." Blowing on her own tea before taking a sip, Branwen pulled the cup to her chest and bit her lip. "Here," she said finally, passing the dainty pitcher of milk over to the younger girl.
"Thanks." She had to grip the handle hard to keep it from over-tipping when she poured it, and her wrist shook. "Thanks for, for helping me put stuff up and... stuff, too."
She still looked so nervous...
Branwen chuckled slightly, not at Meredith's words but at 'stuff.'
"You are welcome." Meredeth wasn't bad.
But she was not Ethne.