RP:A Lesson in Heartsong
Part of the Thy Kingdom Come Arc
Summary: Hildegarde's armor has been returned to her, but much to her dismay, Ayras did not return with it. Donning her armor, she strays from the camp and finds herself stopping to rest at the nearby Xalious Tree. There she finds Raphaline and the bard explains to her that every thing has a song and that it can only be truly heard in one's own heart.
Xalious Tree
Raphaline had a lot on her mind recently and given all the things she seems to have gotten herself into, it would be no surprise. Between mulling over a place dying and a race of people suffering to another area in which she loved, even if it were covered in snow, the bard felt like she had come back at the right moment. So, in the waking hours of the morning, long before others would be up, she dresses in her traveling leathers and makes her way down to the Xalious Tree. It is here that she can the whispers of both nature and magic twinning together in a manner nowhere else in the lands could create. With a hand extended out, she walks towards the tree and presses her calloused palm against the trunk and breathes out. The rush of magic consumes her senses: a rush of wind through her hair, a ringing in her ears and her sense of self suddenly melded into the force of life here. So much is going to happen, she thinks to herself as she feels the very core of the tree grazing against the core of magic within her. She wants to welcome it, but then, she isn’t sure if its time. Another breath in and she releases her ties from the tree, but does not with draw her hand right away. “Time to be strong again.” Words to remind herself, to bolster her confidence.
Hildegarde’s mithril armour had been plucked from Frostmaw by both Kasyr and Ayras; safely delivered to the war camp but without Ayras. A note had been found in her armour detailing that Ayras would be gone for some time, perhaps he wouldn’t return at all. It had truly wounded the knight, but she had no time to dwell on it. She had a war to win, after all. Donning the chainmail and mithril armour, the knight looked like her tall, strong and familiar self once again! No more ragtag iron and steel armour, but proper mithril plate that would stand up to any challenge. However, Hildegarde had been wounded by Trajek’s wicked dagger and she still needed to heal. Donning the heavy armour and insisting she could wander off by herself had been stupid: it didn’t take long for the knight to feel a sharp pain in her torso and stagger to a halt. She had to sit; she had to rest somewhere and catch her breath. Fortunately for Hildegarde, she just so happened to stop next to the Xalious Tree where Raphaline was. “Strong for what?” she asked, announcing her presence and letting onto the fact she had caught onto the tail end of Raphaline’s words.
Raphaline turns at the sound of approaching feet and familiar voice and dons a soft smile, “For you. Should you be wandering out here this far and hurt?” The bard moves away from the tree and approaches the dragon, gently encircling her forearm with her hand. “Come sit with me. I was just getting some fresh air and communing with the tree.” She glances towards the tree, looking for a place among the many, knarled roots to seat. When she spots a smooth area, she nods towards it, indicating they sit in the shade. “How are you healing up anyway?” She had not been directly told about the assassination attempt, but it was on all the lips of the people in the land. The thought alone made the bard shiver, she had thought she had lost someone dear to her when she first arrived and it had been a devastating blow. There was no way she could handle that feeling of loss ever again.
Hildegarde did not protest the grip nor the request to sit down. “If I don’t wander or escape the confines of the camp, I’ll surely drive myself mad,” she protested with a little smile, lowering herself onto the gnarled roots of the tree with a groan. “Communing with the tree. That sounds interesting, though I’m not too sure I’d like to hear all the thoughts of the world around me,” it would probably reduce her to a state of nothingness; a state of inability for fear of offense or harm. “I’m healing fine, m’lady. It takes more than a little knife to kill a dragon!” Though it hadn’t the first time, it wouldn’t hurt to say it and allay some nerves.
Raphaline nods, she could not argue with that given she disliked being kept in one too. “Oh I imagine it would take much more than a knife, but I still worry, especially because,” she pauses, “well when I had first arrived in the lands, I had only heard about…” Her words fell away, her lips pursing together because she couldn’t even voice that thought, worried it might bring it into reality once more. “I just worry about you, that is all.” She concludes. As for the question of the tree, the bard perks up, “It's interesting. Communing with the tree in a way allows me to hear all the life in the land, from here to as far east as the isle of Rynvale. Different lands have different songs.” With no formal training, what the bard knew of her own brand of magic were the rumors when she had been young, coupled with her own trials with it. “Maybe I can sing for you what Frostmaw sounds like to me.”
Hildegarde’s face fell a little at that comment. She hadn’t really thought too much about how her death might have impacted others. “I’m sorry,” she murmured gently and apologetically. “I didn’t intend to come off quite so cold or callously. I should have thought,” she sighed. The knight should perhaps use a little forward thinking outside of battle. But rather than dwell on it too much, she instead lapses into silence to listen to Raphaline talk about communing with the tree. “I have heard Satoshi and Kirien once say something like that before; that the snow, the ice, the earth all had a song of its own. Not that I could ever hear it!” she smiled. Magic was not her domain. The song of the land would likely go forever unheard by Hildegarde. “I would like that.”
Raphaline begins to shake her head furiously, oh goodness no she had not wanted to inspire such words from the dragon. “Please don’t. None of this needs a sorry from you, Hildegarde. I was merely, just illustrating that you are very, very dear to me. And in no way did you come off that way, I just had to be honest with how much my heart would have broken had you disappeared from my life forever.” By this time the bard would have reached over and taken the dragon’s hands, one into each of her own and given them a gentle squeeze. “I know your people depend on you greatly, and they would miss you. But there are also individuals, who love you, who wouldn’t know what to do if your beautiful, silver flame was ever extinguished.” The bard releases the dragon’s hands, now that she has spoken openly. “And I would love for you to hear the song of your land. It is quite an amazing melody, mixed with the serenades of snow and ice and the drumming of the strong hearts of its people.”
Hildegarde’s hands were rough in Raphaline’s hands, cold and hard from combat and labour. “Even after all this time, you have such a way with words. Raphaline: Soother of Beasts!” she smiled, hoping the humoured words went down well with the bard. “I know there are. I just… It is hard to think of them when war looms. You do not wish to think of them when you know you must march on a city soon; when you know you might live or die. You want to live for them, but you would die for them too.” The Silver knew very well that she’d lay her life on the line for many of the people she knew. “I look forward to hearing this song! Though it might be cruel of me to deny the camp and giants of the song.”
Raphaline smiles, the dragon’s word did settle the bard’s heart just a bit. “Or maybe, thinking of them will give you the strength to battle through. I know thinking of those I love has helped me to push through some of the harsher moments of my life.” She glances at the dragon, emerald eyes warmed over, but leaves her words hanging between them. “I would never think of singing such a song without having all the ears of Frostmaw listening. It is a heartsong, the kind of music one doesn’t just hear but feels with their heart.” She gently presses one of her hands over her own heart, feeling the steady beat of it beneath her fingers. “Even we all have a heartsong within us. It is ever changing, but it the melody of our lives playing over and over within, reminding us of our truest selves.”
Hildegarde smiled as Raphaline reasoned that thinking of loved ones only provided her the strength she needed to see things through. “It’s… It’s a sweet thought, but when I think of my loved ones; my strength to uphold my duty wavers. Love compels us to act strangely,” she replied, before once again lapsing into silence. “I never thought music could be quite so… hm. I didn’t think it could do so much,” she said gently. “I would love to hear it though. Perhaps when we reclaim Frostmaw. A big party to celebrate and you shall sing for us!”
Raphaline wouldn’t press, things were one way for some, and different for others. “Love does compel us to do some things out of character, or take risks.” Chuckling, the bard shakes her head, “I know I have to reason with it all the time about what is proper to do and what is not.” As for the aforementioned party, the bard lights up, “Yes! There -will- be a big celebration and you will be the sight to be seen as Queen of the North and I will sing for your nation their land’s heartsong.” And it would give the bard reason to dress up, especially since she had not done a large performance in such a very long time. "I have a silver dress that would be perfect. I miss performing for a large crowd. Traveling has left me little time for formal events."
Hildegarde could not help but grin at the thought of some sort of celebration! Victory seemed a world away, the odds were stacked high against her and her cohorts after all. Death seemed almost certain. “I should like to see that silver dress! You shall surely be the centre of attention,” she praised. “But alas, I think I must return to camp or else poor Mikael will be pounding down the streets of Xalious in search of me.”
Raphaline chuckles, indeed she could hear the giants now. "Of course, go. I wouldn't want them tearing down trees trying to find you." She gently nudges the dragon onward but chooses to remain there among the roots; she wasn't ready to leave just yet. "And for the celebration, when it happens, and I wear that silver dress, consider me your plus one. You'll be the envy of all that are there."