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[Adrian Bishop]

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“This kind of work will be…” the jeweler paused for a moment, looking Adrian up and down over the spectacles that rested on her nose. “Well, I mean to say, Mister Bishop, we usually reserve such custom work for our wealthier patrons. I mean no disrespect to you, it’s just…” Her eyes rested on the thin braids and charms in his long hair, and the flowers hand-embroidered on his vest.

“I can pay, Ma’am,” Adrian responded in a quiet tone. “What I can’t do is accept less than what I’ve asked of you.”

The jeweler straightened up and gave a resigned sigh. “You understand what you’re asking, I assume…”

Adrian nodded and pulled a small drawstring pouch from his pack and handed it to her. “Can you use these?”

Reluctantly, the woman opened the pouch and poured its contents into the palm of her hand. Hundreds of tiny diamonds sparkled in her palm, reflecting an array of spectral light on the walls and ceiling – on her face and his.

“Of course I can, Sir. But where…” her dubious gaze rested on him again, her suspicions clear.

“I fought for each and every one, Ma’am. They were fairly bought and paid for with my blood and sweat alone.”

The jeweler poured the diamonds back into the pouch and drew the string up tight. “I’ll charge ye only for the goldsmithy and casting then.”

Adrian unfolded a parchment with a detailed drawing of a gold ring resembling a flowering vine, leaves unfurled, with diamonds set in each flowering bud. The parchment itself was marked with dark brown fingerprints here and there. He looked over the drawing one last time, then handed it to the jeweler. “Sorry about the blood. I tried to make it myself, but it was never good enough.”

The jeweler looked at the drawing and back to Adrian. “Best to leave such intricate work to those of us skilled in the trade.”

Adrian nodded, “Yes ma’am.”

The woman looked back to the drawing again and finally smiled. “She must be quite the lucky lady.”

Adrian smiled fondly, and quietly replied. “She’s quite the Lady.”

[Soren]

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Attending such a public event as the joust in Blackmarsh, was not something Soren and Adrian usually did. But this was different. Adrian, HER Adrian was a participant. He waited patiently right by Soren's side until the call for "All Jouster's," could be heard. Like the gentleman he was, he kissed her hand and took his place among the contestants. Soren felt her heart about to bust with pride watching him straddle his horse. Even though Adrian joined her shortly there after her pride did not diminish. He had fought courageously, fair and square. To Soren, Adrian would always be the victor no matter whose hand was raised at the end of the night.

Side by side they watched the rest of the tournament and side by side they entered the tavern just after. Adrian had politely waited while Soren made her way over to one of Merci's friends and began her tirade on manners. In fact a chuckle could be heard errupting from his lips softly as she described Kelly Darkhaven as a cockroach that should be crushed. Soren smiled at that. No matter what, Adrian allowed her to be just what she was. No more, no less. Soren loved to be out in public, to mix with the people. But at the end of the day it was the tents and the company that she longed for.

Adrian's camp was peaceful, calm and fit her like a loving hand crafted silk glove that the ladies of stature all wore. Adrian's camp was custom made for her. As they were prone to do at night when the world had subsided leaving them alone, finally, they sat down on the log next to the campfire. Idly they wove themselves in and out of conversation. Everything with Adrian was just easy, there was no having to force a thought, an emotion, an action. Conversation was the same way. Mid sentence he excused himself to check on something.

"I thought I heard wolves." He said quietly.

"Would they really come here?"

Adrian noted that it was possible but he that he doubted they would bother. She wasn't sure if that was to ease her mind or because it was basic truth. Probably a little bit of both. They were easing back into conversation when her Adrian made mention of her hand needing something. Something that glittered. And as he pulled out a golden ring Soren's mouth dropped open. It was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen. It was a flowered vine and in each of the flowers was a diamond. The sheer weight of it's significance landed full force in her heart. Of all the things he could have produced that was the last thing she had expected. His words of pure honey flowed over. And when he said, "I love you." the dam of tears burst open and began to roll down her cheeks. Happiness, contentment, excitement, ecstacy and love had no more room inside her. He had barely gotten out his condition on which she accept it before she had thrown herself squarly into his arms with all her might.

"So to be sure, is that a yes, you will marry me?" He said with laughter.
"YES! YES! YES! I will marry you."

"I was thinking at least a dozen bare baby gypsy feet," Adrian commented, smiling all the while.

[Adrian Bishop]

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Adrian blew warm breath into his clasped hands and paced for a moment, building his courage to return to the warmth of the bonfire. He pulled the ring out of his pocket and watched as it sparkled in the diffused light of the moon in the cold, clear sky. In the distance, a wolf howled. Not the part-human type, just the lone timberwolf calling to his mate. Maybe calling her to him, to share a meal, or to share his life. Whatever his reason, his cry was unmistakable. He was alone, and no longer wanted to be.

Adrian peered through the trees at Soren as she sat by the fire. She shivered once, despite the warmth, and watched the darkness blindly, awaiting his return. If ever there was a time, it’s now.

Adrian gave one last look toward the moonlit hilltop where the wolf’s cry had now ceased. All you have to do is cry. I have to keep from crying…Lucky dog.

Seating himself on the log, Adrian found himself making excuses for his brief departure. “I thought I heard wolves…” And when Soren was content with the idea that the wolves wouldn’t come near the camp, Adrian finally paused and took a deep breath. He watched the warm glow dance radiantly across the girl’s face and glimmer in her hair, looking all the more red as her auburn tresses diffused it.

Gods, what have I ever done to deserve something so beautiful? Seems a sin even to ask for her. Adrian looked up to the garland of dried strawflowers and lavender. A gift for the Sol Invictus, it had adorned her since the day he gave it to her.

“I’ve been thinking that maybe your garland needs something. Something sparkly, glittery.” Adrian feigned interest in the circlet and tapped his lips with a fingertip thougthfully. “Perhaps a little lower. Ah!” He reached into his pocket again and pulled out the ring. “I have just the thing…”

He placed the ring in Soren’s palm and closed her hand around it. She opened her hand and looked wide-eyed at the ring for a moment, then slipped it hesitantly onto her finger and lifted her gaze to his in wonder.

“It’s yours…I have only one condition. You’ll have to honour me by becoming my bride.”

He knew by her expression what was coming, and this time he was braced. “YES, YES, YES!!” Soren tackled him with a hug that nearly bowled him off the log.

Adrian laughed and held her close. “And I want at least a dozen baby gypsy feet pattering around the camp,” he teased as she blushed.

His heart was buoyant, sprinting, spinning. He felt like howling at the moon. So many long years alone, and finally his cries had been heard.