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[fair_hero]

Hero hasn't hardly been out since her injury; since then she's stayed in Don John's room, letting him tend her, and after she got well it's very likely he didn't let her out. But the spring is so beautiful, and so warm, and she's truly so bright that staying inside is hard, terribly hard

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[sirbeaumains]

Gareth loves also the brightness and the greenness and the sun-- but won't let that make him forget the honors due, and so he bows and he offers a "Lady" (beaming, though, all the while).

[fair_hero]

Hero curtsies deeply and smiles, shyly. "O! Good morrow, sir!"

[sirbeaumains]

"And to you, Lady." He, of course, is beaming still.

[fair_hero]

"How do you?" she asks, clasping her hands behind her back.

[norweenish]

*passes her and can't help but whistle approvingly*

[fair_hero]

She stops, her skirts blowing around her legs, and curtsies* Good morrow, my lord!

[norweenish]

Oh- er, hi. *tips his crown*

[fair_hero]

*curtsies again, force of habit and shyness* How do you?

[_ladydisdain_]

"Cousin--!" Beatrice's tone can't quite decide itself -- pleased to see her after so much time, worried that it has been so much time, relieved that she seems well -- and so for once there's just the one word and an expression that isn't certain what to be.

[fair_hero]

"O, cousin!" Hero rushes to her and embraces her, holding on tight.

[_ladydisdain_]

Beatrice holds her close a moment, full of worry that's rarely, rarely seen from her -- and she does not speak again, which ought to say quite a lot.

[fair_hero]

She looks up and touches Beatrice's cheek softly with her fingertips. "How dost thou?"

[sweariwontdie]

He's quiet because he's horribly hungover, but he's clean and dressed modestly. He's gone out to try to get air to clear his head. He shields his eyes from the sun and smiles. It's always a good idea to smile at pretty girls isn't it? It wouldn't be polite otherwise. But profoundly conscious of the ring on his left hand, he doesn't stare.

He waves and calls, "Bonjour mademoiselle!"

[fair_hero]

Hero curtsies and waves, as she's picked up that that's an acceptable greeting here. "Good morrow!"

[sweariwontdie]

When she curtsies, he pauses and bows back with a smile. "Do you live near here, mademoiselle?"

[fair_hero]

She points to the Mansion. "My lord is there."

[permanent_blur]

and if ros should stop on a smile full of simple awe and joy (a smile that will never grow up or grow old), if he should sweep her up into his arms like some beautiful doll and squeeze her close and soso glad -- she won't mind, will she? because he can't help but ... it's been so long, and he'd been so scared, and spring is the perfect season, isn't it? "miss ... !"

[fair_hero]

No, of course not--does she ever mind?--no; she holds him back with a sudden childish joy that belies her older self, and lets out a glad cry. "Sir Rosencrantz!"

[permanent_blur]

"you're not dead," he says, delighted -- "i didn't think you were, i mean -- it didn't seem very like you -- all this time i'd known you, you'd been alive, and i'd never known you to stop -- but it's good that you're alive." giddy, he kisses his forehead, maybe spins her. "i like you alive. and i've liked you all the time i've known you -- !"

[fair_hero]

She puts her arms about his neck as he spins her, like a girl with her sweetheart, though of course Don John is her lord. "O, I am well, I am most well. My lord hath healed me, see! and I am here, and well, and thou art well also?"