"I'm merely looking around today." For the past 10 or so minutes Ambrose had been walking around the larger tented vendors, selling clothing and handmaid furniture, and for those 10 minutes, he had been haggled by the same little old lady. Ambrose couldn't help but laugh a bit as the lady tried to show him a carved bird she had made herself from the old oak trees on the outskirts of the capital. "Perhaps a nice ornament for your abode, or present for the lady?" She nudged, picking up another trinket and showing him. "Surely your lady would love a gift from her lover, would she not?" At that Ambrose couldn't help but snort a laugh, the thought of calling any woman his lover was quite funny to him. But he did have a lady in mind who would be happy to receive a gift.
He sighed softly as he pulled out his pouch of coins from his belt and handed the lady a gold coin, winking when her eyes went wide. "I'll take both. Keep the change, madam." He said, watching as the old lady stood frozen for a moment before nodding and scurrying off to find wrapping to keep the ornaments safe. Ambrose took the opportunity of solace to wander around the shop more, appreciating the craftsmanship of the furniture and detail, truly impressed that such a small frail lady could make such beautiful work. Perhaps the wooden trinkets would be worth it after all. He knew at least one, the one shaped like a cardinal with a scarf around its neck would tickle Ness' fancy. She had a thing for morbidity and he was hoping the bird would remind her of one of her favorite Christmas songs. The other, an ornament of a twisting rose would be for himself he supposed. "I thank you kindly, sir, may you have a lovely day and do come again." The lady piped up as she came around the corner with bags in her hand. He smiled softly "You as well, madam. Thank you." He took the bags from her, slipping a silver into her, and turned without another word.
As kind as the lady was, and as fascinating the shop was, Ambrose didn't want to stick around long. He may be courteous but he knew the kingdom he protected wasn't always as it seemed. He unwrapped the ornaments and turned them over, finding exactly what he had expected. Sigils. So the old woman had been a witch, or at least dabbled in the craft. Ambrose let out a small sigh of relief, thankfully, neither the bird nor the rose seemed to be marked with malintent. On the other hand, if Ambrose was reading them correctly, they seemed to be for protection and good fortune. He carefully wrapped the ornaments back up and put them into the bag, looking up a second too late as he walked into someone else, also seemingly lost in thought. Ambrose ended up dropping both bags in his surprise and to catch the other person so they wouldn't fall.
"My apologies! I didn't see you." He steadied the other person, searching their face to make sure they weren't hurt or upset. "Are you alright?" He asked, slowly bending down to pick up his bags of ornaments.
Ilya was not surprised when someone ran into him. He had been in his head and it was common for him to run into someone. Or something. He smiles and nods, “Yeah. I’m fine. Nothing’s too broken.” He laughs softly at his own joke, running his fingers through his hair.
He couldn’t really remember his thoughts anymore. All of them scattering away like ashes in the wind as soon as he made contact with the man before him. The other man looked vaguely familiar, and to be honest, he held himself in a guarded way. As if ready for anything, and unwilling to fully relax.
Ilya crouches down, reaching the bag before the other and picking them up, making sure the bag was undamaged before handing it to the other. “Here. . .” He murmurs, smiling slightly.
“Are you all right? I’m sorry, I wasn’t really paying attention, though I should have. I have a bad habit of just spacing out.” He scans the other man head to toe, assessing before dismissing. He looked alright, and seemed to be alright.
His gaze settles onto the man’s face and the light smile graced his features.
He should have been more alert. He should have been more aware of his surroundings, even if he was technically off duty, he as a guard should always be vigilant. So when he ran into the other person, Ambrose was beyond mortified for bumping into this other person. "Are you sure?" He asked, a helpless smile of gratitude flitting across his features as he accepted the bags. "Thank you, and no, I'm fine. My pride may be ever so slightly shaken but I'll recover eventually." He joked, checking over the bird ornament to make sure they hadn't broken. While he wasn't overly superstitious, he didn't like the idea of one of the ornaments from the crone breaking, not wanting to risk anything bad happening.
"I understand, I'll admit I was more in my head than physically present. I have as much fault in this." Once he made sure the bird was safe, he checked on the rose, praying the more delicate stems and leaves were still intact. They were perfectly safe, much to his relief. Once satisfied, he straightened, cleared his throat lightly, and offered the rose ornament to the other, ever the gentleman and pleasing guard. "I hope you'll accept this small token of my apology and forgiveness." he proclaimed rather dramatically but Ambrose hoped his antics would lighten any tension.
"Were you heading tot he summer market?" he asked, not necessarily understanding why he decided to stay and chat with this person other than facination, but he took the rare chance to mingle with the citizens of the kingdom on a more familiar level than Captain of the Guard. As an off duty commoner, he had more of a chance to connect with people, something he desperately wanted, despite him constantly telling himself he was fine. Maybe Ness and Lucious were influencing him a bit too much.
(Oh, Fuck- I am Sooo, sorry! I 100% forgot about this flops)
Ilya watches the male with close attention, green gaze studying his face for any signs of distress or discomfort. Seeing none he relaxed ever so slightly. He was glad that whatever had been in the bag wasn't upsetting the other. He watches him pull out a wooden carving, it taking the shape of a rose.
He blinks and looks back to the man's face, "Oh, um. . . Thanks?" He reaches out, taking the delicate wooden plant. He gazes at it, tracing the tip of his thumb over a leaf, contemplating for a moment.
"Oh, how rude of me, I'm Ilya. Ilya Aslanov." He offers his free hand in a shake, hoping not to seem too eager or off putting as he smiles brightly. "And you?"
Ilya was curious about this man; why he looked so familiar and why he couldn't remember from where.
(Absolutely no worries, tbh so did I. Also so sorry for not responding, dealing with college and lack of motivation to write but I am back woo!)
Ambrose cringed internally at the questioned gratitude, wondering for a brief moment if it was perhaps a step too far to offer a gift for just bumping into a stranger but it was already done. It wasn't like he could take it back now, anyway. If anything, it would be an amusing bar story to tell to fellow patrons when he was drinking alone at a tavern. The day he bumped into a stranger and instead of being on his way like any normal person, he mysteriously offered a wooden rose, that's when his life was turned upside down by a single act of over-kindness.
Ambrose watched as the other tentatively accepted the ornament, mildly relieved that it wasn't rejected.
He shook the offered hand, keeping his grasp light and pleasant. Breathing a self-amused laugh and eyeing the ornament in Ilya's hand before meeting his emerald gaze. "You can call me Rose." He exchanged, thinking it better than immediately being recognized as the Captain of the Royal Guard. Usually, when he led with his name and profession he found most people switched from friendly and open immediately to respectful yet distant. Most people barely lasted the next meeting, and even fewer became friends. And then there were people like Ness and Lucious that Ambrose couldn't seem to get rid of try as he might.
Ambrose's brows knit together as he slowly let go of their handshake. "Forgive me but your name sounds familiar, have we met before?" He asked, almost certain he had never seen the man before. "I've seen or heard your name somewhere I'm sure but you don't look familiar."
(so have I, my posts are so short these days TvT)
Ilya smiles slightly, "Rose. Ironic." He wiggles the carving between his fingers, smirking slightly.
"Perfect for a love story, I suppose." He snorts, shaking his head. Though the idea was cute, he guessed, but not one that he thought would go far if he ever decided to write about it. He needed a new muse, something that made his eyes light, and that other people would want to read. He had only gotten so far with his cliche stories. He wanted something original. "But a little on the cliche side, don't you think?"
He pauses, staring hard at the other man before shaking his head, "No, I don't. . . I don't think so." Ilya keeps staring at the man, wracking his brain for a long moment.
Then it hit him, a ball a few months back. He'd been invited to a royal ball celebrating a birthday or something. He couldn't remember, he'd stood close to the wall most of it, not particularly one for dancing. He tended to have two left feet.
"You're a guard, aren't you? I saw you at some ball or another a few months back."
(nor worries at all, respond when you can and if you still want at all.)
Ambrose gasped and pressed a hand over his heart "You wound me. I thought it was rather poetic." He defended, shrugging his shoulders as he looked at the rose ornament in Ilya's hand for a brief moment. "A love story? I suppose it does sound rather cliche but there's nothing wrong with that sometimes. If anything it makes a great foundation for something new." He mused idly, his gaze returning to Ilya's, his brows creasing in concentration as he scrutinized his companion, trying to remember from where he had heard the name before. He was sure he hadn't met Ilya in person but the name was annoyingly familiar.
And then it clicked. Ambrose had been present at the ball, specifically for the queen's own birthday. Of course he would have attended the ball, as the Queen's captain but more importantly as her friend. Ever the cunning queen, Ness had used both those facts and had ordered Ambrose to mingle, using a weak excuse that it would be the greatest present he could give her with the undertone of a queen giving him an order. So Ambrose did as told, he had gone around the ballroom, searching for Lucious or his other fellow guards. When he had reassured them they were all in their positions and attentive to their duty for the 5th or 6th time around the room, Ambrose had retired to the snack and beverage table, looking to ase his nerves with something sweet and possibly a bit of wine. Perhaps it had been the wine that had made him more lax or a deep desire to actually connect with someone other for once, but Ambrose did recall striking up a conversation with one of the guests. Impaired most likely by the wine, Ambrose couldn't remember much of the conversation but he remembered staying by his party companion all night long.
Ambrose looked down at the floor in bashful shame "I am, I was worried that would deter you." He admitted partially. "Forgive my memory, I'm fairly certain a few too many glasses of wine might have affected my behavior that night and how much I actually remembered." He peeked up at Ilya again, still unable to let go of his name.
"Aslanov?" He repeated, trying the name out on his lips, his mind racing with records and notes he had studied over countless times in the royal archives. And then books came to mind, specifically the books in Ness's room, the one he had been given to read by the Queen herself. A book he had flown through in one sitting. "You're the author."
