RP:The Harmony of Friendship
Part of the Thy Kingdom Come Arc
Summary: Hildegarde and the bard Raphaline reconnect after quite a long time and discuss the unrest that has taken over the various regions of Hollow.
The Rolling Hills
Hildegarde ’s war camp had certainly changed the park and picnic area considerably. Where children once roamed and played gleefully, now men at arms and warriors prepared for their eventual march to war; tents of all shapes and sizes were dotted around and everything was in a close proximity. A slightly larger tent flew a little flag, indicating that this was the tent of whoever ran the camp. Hildegarde didn’t like that all that much. Not just because it felt grandiose, but because it shattered her hopes and ideals of equality. How could she stand shoulder to shoulder when everything else elevated her position? Her deeds, however, would prove her equal standing with the men. Even though she had been told to remain in bed and at rest, the knight was up and at work: helping the happy campers to lug around lumber, medical supplies, weapons and armour before being shooed away. Having helped with the moving of some heavy smithing supplies, the knight is quickly shooed away with a smile and laugh from the other giants and she too is smiling. She’s amused at how quickly some of the giants have adapted and fallen into the old habits of treating her like an equal. So now she stood before the camp fire, adding a log to maintain its heat and flame before dusting her hands off against her trousers. Hildegarde had changed in many ways, her looks especially. But she hadn’t changed in her heart and in her deeds.
Raphaline had been to many different regions of Hollow since arriving back, but the one place she had had a bit of difficulty locating is the war camp. A few rumors and after some trust established she had convinced those who were loyal to Hildegarde to tell her where she could find the dragon herself. Though everyone she had spoken to had said she lived, the bard would not, could not believe it until she lay her two emerald eyes upon the other woman. So, during an afteroon, she makes her way through the mountains and over the Xalious lands until the camp is within sight. With a deep breath in, the bard steps closer, watchful of those noting her arrival. They seem wary of the half elf and her exotic features, but she focuses on her task at hand. A ways into the camp one of the giants stop her, one who may not remember her as a healer for the last war in Frostmaw. "Who are you and why are you here?" His question straight forward but filled with warning; the comraderie here warms the bard's heart. "I am looking for Hildegarde. She is a dear friend of mine, and I need to see she is alright." Her emerald eyes narrow in a fierce, slightly challenging manner as she stood her ground. Yes, she was much smaller than most of the camp, but she would not be deterred.
Hildegarde's men were wary of newcomers, even the little ones after that assassination attempt at the hands of Trajek. As Raphaline offers her answer, Lisbeth appears behind the giant who stopped her. She peers at Raphaline for a long moment and appears to be convinced by the fierce and defiant manner, “I’ll take her over,” Lisbeth says, gesturing at Raphaline to follow her as she weaved her way throughout the camp; expecting the half-elf to follow behind her to avoid being trampled. With Lisbeth making her way through the camp, she catches sight of Mikael and his charge, Hildegarde. The giantess decides to gesture over at Hildegarde and let Raphaline approach as she deemed fit, knowing that Mikael would be able to handle things should Raphaline’s appearance be sinister. Mikael clears his throat and nods his head off in Raphaline’s direction; he recognises her from the first war. Hilde frowns for a moment, as if wondering what Mikael was doing and only turns to look after a second gesture from the giant. “Oh,” the knight breathes, as if surprised. Raphaline. She hadn’t seen her in… well, it had been too long. “M’lady,” she said, taking a step forward.
Raphaline does not recognize the giantess, but follows her anyway. If they meant her harm or to throw her out, they would have done so by now. She keeps close, weaving in and out of the taller figures, spotting familiar faces alike until her escort stops and gestures towards whom she seeks. The bard steps forward, her hnds coming to her face as she gasps. A wave of joy and relief flows over her as she traces every detail of the knight she care for so deeply. When their eyes meet, the bard feels a hitch in her throat as her name falls from Hildegarde's lips. "Hildegarde." She breathes, covering the space between them and without a care to propriety or who was watching, tries to throw her arms around the other woman and embrace her so tightly.
Hildegarde has never found it shameful to embrace a loved one, particularly one who had been gone for quite so long as Raphaline. Rather than stand awkwardly or become bashful, the knight’s strong arms wind around Raphaline with that all too familiar carefree joy that comes with such happy reunions! “Oh, Raphaline,” she said delightedly, ignoring that throbbing pain that comes from their tight embrace. Tender stitches did not often appreciate a tight hug! “Let me look at you,” the knight asks, moving to step back just slightly; keeping her rough hands gently upon Raphaline’s arms as she took in the sight of the bard. The bard would no doubt recognise the look; that sort of concerned glancing mixed with the happiness of reunion. “It’s been too long.”
Raphaline welcomes the embrace, and after all her long travels it feels nice. Laughing with bit of tears in her eyes, the bard holds out her arms to display the travelling leathers in their shades of brown and green, her red hair stilll curly and wild as ever. Her features are still much the same, still sharply exotic and yet warm and inviting. "And you. How are you? I heard so many rumors and then.." She clasps her hands together before her as she gives her head a gentle shake, "I am sorry I was not here this time, but now," a small nod, "I am here to help in whatever way I can." Smiling, she laughs again, "Goodness I missed you so much."
Hildegarde didn’t think Raphaline had changed all that much. She was still her wild-at-heart, pleasant self! “I live, I die, I live again,” she said it as it brushing it off, as if death had been nothing! Though that truly wasn’t the case, it wasn’t something the knight terribly enjoyed dwelling on. Better to make a joke of it or to ignore it having ever happened than to dwell on such a horrid topic. “Words are wind, m’lady. I’m alive and well, though embroiled in war once again,” it seemed to be her perpetual state of being, war and conflict and being in the middle. “Well, I can always appreciate a good healer!” the knight said with a wry smile, knowing full well she wouldn’t accept help that put Raphaline on the front lines of combat; much like Josleen in that regard. “It’s been *too* long,” she repeated, albeit happily, “but now we need not miss each other, hm? Now that you’re back!”
Raphaline knows very well that the dragon would never let her near a front line, "I would be very happy to heal any and all the troops facing this war. Including yourself, for you are even more so prone to broken bones." The bard couldn't even remember how many times she had mended the dragon from one fight or scuffle or full out war. Another nod is afforded, there is no reason to linger on such a feeling. "Yes. No need for such dreary thoughts, now that I am back." She reaches up to gently lay a hand a top the bicep of the knight, "Now other than another war, you must fill me on everything that has happened to you. And," She makes a waving gesture with her other hand, "Don't you dare leave anything out. I want to hear everything and maybe, if I feel inspired I'll perform for the camp?"
Hildegarde chortled at Raphaline’s words, “Yes, well, try not to sound too keen about seeing me hurt and having to patch me up!” she retorted. “In any case, someone’s beaten you to the punch in my most latest wound,” Leone had thankfully patched her up. With the hand on her bicep, she shifts slightly so as to put her hand upon Raphaline’s and gently guide her to one of the logs by the fire that served as a bench of sorts. “Oh come now! You know my life isn’t quite so entertaining,” she protested for a moment, before seemingly caving into the request. “What would you like to know?”
Raphaline follows her to the fire, and is quick to find a seat and pose her questions. "Well," a slight grin, "Your life is quite fascinating, that is why there are quite a few who sing your praises, Hilde. But for now, I would like to hear of what you have been doing, other than the war. I know you were steward of the throne last I remember. When you weren't ruling or battling, there must have been other things?" Chuckling, the bard gently nudges the dragon, "I have a hard time believing in all my time away no suitors came calling either." She knew well enough how to bring up things that would cause the usually stoic woman to blush. Besides, she wanted topics to stay light in lieu of all that has transcended so far.
Hildegarde felt that her life was full of duty and honour, but that it was still rather fascinating within the bonds of her oath. “I was Steward, yes,” she murmured, offering Raphaline a brief smile, “and now apparently Queen of the North,” though that was not a certainty until she sat firmly on the throne and secured her position there. But what was she doing when she wasn’t ruling or battling? Battling seemed to be all she ever did! “Battling has… well, it’s been a predominant part of my life. But no,” she blushed, “no suitors, no love interests, no engaging mysteries,” she answered. “I’m not as fascinating as you think I am!” she nudged the bard playfully. “And you, your travels? These things are more interesting than I am.”
Raphaline eye’s widen at the newly acquired title. “Queen?” She claps the dragon on the shoulder, “That is exciting and wonderful and well deserved. You have been caring for that region of this land since I can remember. The people love you, and you love them. That, in all my travels, is a rarity and yet the strongest force to uniting them beneath a single banner.” She nods towards the group of giants moving through the camp, “You have an exciting life. It’s a story I would love to read, over and over.” Her grin softens into the sweetest of smiles as she playfully jests with the dragon, “No suitors or interests. Well,” grinning once more, “It looks like I may have a chance then.” Ending that statement with a wink, she turns her gaze outward towards the camp, really taking in the size and number of those there. “I’ve come from one war to another it seems.” Turning back to the dragon with a ghost of a smile, “At least here I am fighting beside those I care about. I stumbled upon a war between two countries, I offered my service as healer to both sides because neither of them was in the right.” She shakes her head, how did she go from a performer to a veteran of wars that she could sniff out reasons people were fighting in the first place. “And I still perform, it is or was the light in my life while I was gone because I could spin tales and play songs about the amazing people I knew here.”
Hildegarde shook her head, “It’s not something that I would want, but… but if I do not do it, they will continue to fight over this chair and some strip of metal. Whereas if I sit on this chair, I can keep the peace and stop them from fighting amongst themselves,” she reasoned. That was her take on leadership, at least. That it was not something to be lusted after, that it was a duty and responsibility not a conquest or joy. Yet as Raphaline jests about having a chance with the dragon, she blushes furiously. Last time, Aela had been on Hilde’s arm when Raphaline spoke to her about such things. She doesn’t comment on it, her reddening cheeks are explanation enough. “You always did have a good singing voice,” she said, “I recall fondly that night before I went off to help the others rescue Eliason.”
Raphaline couldn't help the smile, genuine and filled with so much pride for the dragon; she had change and the bard could tell. "You are a splendid leader, Hildegarde. And a leader I will always be happy to stand with and assist in whatever manner I can." Often choosing to remain neutral and unaffiliated with any group, but there was just something about her honesty that made Raphaline want to rally behind her and support the dragon. Chuckling, she nods, remembering that night with same fondness. “Well, now I have a repertoire of songs, some of them you might recognize the characters in them. Some old and filled with the same kind of wisdom any song that has been sung for ages should possess.” Her violin is not on her, but when pressed, she’d be happy to sing unaccompanied. “Now once this war is over, I think you deserve a vacation. A real one. Even for just a day, and I know how you feel about the idea,” Another waving gesture, “Maybe you’ll let me treat you to it. You know, something to look forward when things are over.”
Hildegarde waved her hand in a dismissive manner, as if to wave away Raphaline’s compliments. “Do you often try to slay dragons with kind words?” Ever the wordsmith, that half-elf. “So, what have you done since returning here?” she asked with interest, “Have you been back long?” As Raphaline turns the chat to the idea of a vacation, the knight chortles. “Oh! How many times have you and I spoke of that? The idea of taking a vacation. That’s a dream now. Once the war is won, there is the task of rebuilding and repairing. No rest.”
Raphaline chuckles, tempted once more to fluster the dragon with said crafting. “Only the most beautiful dragons.” As for the question of her actions in the last few days, well, “I’ve run into an old friend, a tattoo artist out there in Rynvale. Seems she has gone and gotten herself into trouble and lost her memory.” That had been an interesting night. “And Krice.” The bard pauses as her mind goes over the short meeting, “I saw him first, in Kelay.” There wasn’t much else she had to say about the warrior but he had set her on the correct path towards helping those she cared about. “He told me about you and Frostmaw, so I came as soon as possible. And Sage, the forest is dying. I met Gilwen. We talked about possibly helping to look for a reversal of the curse.” Only a few days and she had already gotten herself wrapped in so much. “We have spoken of it plenty of times, but it’s a nice dream if only that.” Falling silent for a moment, she allows her mind to revolve around a few thoughts before speaking up once more, “Well if no a vacation, I can at least keep you company through all the strains of rebuilding at least.”
Hildegarde snorted at the compliment, but she didn’t say anything on it. Although Hildegarde doesn’t know the tattoo artist, she bobs her head in acknowledgement nonetheless and listens carefully. “There seems to be quite a bit of that lately… the whole memory loss thing,” she murmured thoughtfully, having heard rumours about Emilia’s memory loss. Maybe something was in the water. Krice she knew, however. “I haven’t seen him around the camp much,” she said thoughtfully, “he spends the majority of his time in this camp around Leone, whenever he so happens to be here,” she said. “But Gilwen, I spoke to her recently. She told me of the forest’s plight and I turned her towards Lady Larewen and Lord Kelovath; reasoning that being of polar opposites, they might be able to offer advice from either side. It seems a good bet, in any case,” she said with a little smile. Advice from a paladin and a necromancer, how strange. “I should like that very much, Raphaline.”
Raphaline wasn’t too surprised by the details of Krice or whom he spends time around. As for the mention of memory loss being a common thing, she furrows her brows. “Or someone. Sounds too frequent to be just a passing wind.” There was something else she could look into while traveling around, regrouping with those she knew. To the mention of the elf, the bard nods. “A good suggestion. Whatever helps to solve the spell will benefit everyone involved, that forest is just too beautiful and sacred to allow just die.” She wondered if any of these figures were from her other wandering in Larket, well, impromptu fight. As for the last comment, the bard perks up, donning a more brightened look and smile, “Well then. Consider yourself well accompanied then, the Queen of the North deserves at least a bit of entertainment and joy in between all of her duties.” Which speak of, the bard decides now that a impromptu show is well suited. Rising from her seat on the long, she dusts herself off, and despite the lack of instrument or proper attire, she moves just far enough that the dragon will have a better view of her. “How about a song then? Something to raise the spirits around here?”
Hildegarde grunted at the thought of someone being behind the memory loss in some of Hollow’s citizens. “Both women, too. I shouldn’t like to think someone was behind this… enough trouble as is between Frostmaw, Larket and Sage. Trouble stirring in Cenril, trouble everywhere,” danger hiding in the shadows by the sounds of things! Hildegarde had secured Sage from the drow in order to aid the elves, so it was doubtful that she would abandon it in its time of need after that feat of loyalty and dedication to the elvish cause. “My very own bard, how wondrous! The perks of Queendom, yes?” she smiled, electing to lean back and plant both hands behind her as Raphaline left the log to take centre stage as it were. “Don’t allow us to stop you!” she smiled, evidently pleased to have a performance from the bard. The giants have gradually stopped in their tasks and busy meandering, instead coming closer to the campfire in order to watch Raphaline.
Raphaline had a similar feeling about all the trouble brewing in the lands, was it an indicator of tides turning for the worse or would it be the binding force that united all the people in the land in saving their cities and livelihood? “Yes. Your very own bard to sing and dance and tell stories whenever you like.” Chuckling, she takes another step back and shakes out her wild curls, causing them to reflect the light of the fire in them. She gathers in a deep breath into her chest, steadies her mind and relaxes her body as the song she chooses comes to mind. With all eyes on her, the bard allows a resounding note to pierce through the sounds of the camp and sing across the rolling hills. With a single note, her voice begins to sing of a great battle. Such a battle that so many thought there would be no hope, but suddenly in the darkest moments of the war, the people still hanging onto their hope were able to band together and pierce their way through the eclipsing darkness. Raphaline makes no move to dance, instead she allows her voice to have all the movement, all the coursing to and fro with the fire still reflecting in emerald eyes and across fiery mane. When she finishes the last few notes of the melody, with the triumph of those who found strength in one another, she allows her voice to fade away and waits for the reaction of those around her.
Hildegarde waved her hand a little bit to hush only a couple of the giants who had gathered by the fire to watch and listen to Raphaline’s performance. The majority of giants had naturally lapsed into silence, given that their culture was one of oral history and stories passed down the generations in song and verse. With the tale of victory and cooperation made through song, the camp is silent before breaking out into a jubilant roar that’s surely loud enough to make sure the enemy in Frostmaw can hear them! The knight remains seated on the log, smiling over at Raphaline. The song had worked its charm; it had lifted the spirits of her men here at the camp and that was more than she could ask for. The giants roar and shove each other gleefully, searching for mead and meat.
Raphaline had chosen well and with intention when it came to the song. The wonders of the right words in the right tone of voice could invigorate spirits that begun to tumble away from the cause. Here, she wanted to use her gift of song to bolster spirits and help a dear friend with her own cause. Smiling, she turns to Hildegarde, “I think things shall be in better spirits tonight.” Moving for her place of performance, she seats herself once more next to Hildegarde and just in time to be offered a mug of mead. Not one to turn down a gift, she takes it with a nod of thanks a quick but ever charming smile before turning to the dragon once more, “And it is nice to see you smile once more too.” And with that, the bard lifts the mug to her lips and take a long sip of the sweet liquor.
Hildegarde is well known for her lack of drinking. In fact, she only ever seemed to imbibe while in the presence of Governor Tristram. Only Sven knows why that such a man as Tristram could convince the dragon to turn to drink and no other could do the same feat! “Good spirits for the night can bolster their performance in the war, but… you know as well I do all that war holds. It’s not going to be easy. Marching on the land that they have called home and being prepared to spill the blood of their brethren,” she murmured thoughtfully. “But no, no more grim thoughts. At least for one night. Not when I have my own bard here!” she grinned.
Raphaline finishes downing a bit more of the mead before setting the mug off to the side. "Nothing in this world is ever easy. Life is harsh and difficult, but its the moments," gesturing towards the giants and their revelries, "That make the long hauls worth it in the end." Smiling, she reaches over to press a gentle hand to the dragon's shoulder closest to her. "Yes. And as your bard, I am open to requests. Shall be song or dance, or story or?" She was rather open to any sort of performance or thing to be had. Honestly, she had missed the company of this warband and their leader, they always felt like the right group and place to be for her. Odd, given her wandering nature.
Hildegarde listened to Raphaline’s sage words before huffing loudly and dramatically, as if to make it quite clear the huff was a joke. “Since when did you become so wise and sage?” she said in playful protest. “Well, I think if you dance, you may spark the giants to dance too… and I would rather that the camp be still standing by morning! A song, though… I have always liked your songs, m’lady.”
Raphaline chuckles before nudging the dragon, “I think it is from spending so much time around you, oh noble one.” As for the suggestion of song, the bard is happy to oblige another round. This time though, she chooses something a bit softer for between them and those very close by. This song, is lighthearted, like the first blossoms of spring and it speaks of new chances in life. From the hard ridges of winter sprouts the flowers, and for those, a chance at a life once turned away or the chance to find happiness in something or someone is possible. She lets the song fade on her lips as she focuses her emerald gaze once more on the dragon, curls falling to and fro across her visage.