Harold
Taedra Westbrook
Northwind Coast

Two weeks had passed excruciatingly slow. Her father had sent out letters to Tobias again, though he'd yet to respond. Word of John De Burgh's success travelled, and the meetings with neighboring families grew more stern in tone as families started to take a side in the fight for the Northwind throne. 

Taedra had non of this on her mind however when she returned to the coast. Leaving in a carriage went unnoticed, Thierou and her father had been deep on discussion about the likelihood that they would see a new King crowned in the upcoming months. 

The coast welcomed her back with cold whispers of seawater. It was getting deeper into the frost season, and while she was used to the chill, she was also used to the clear skies of Asairde that helped fight the briskness of true winter. She pulled her furs more tightly around her shoulders, heading to the waters where she promised Iver she would be waiting
Marion
Iver Trok
Northwind coast

It was also slow for Iver but in a different way. It was a constant debate with the other scribes if it was even allowed that he had a date. Oliver himself tried to defend Iver's choice to move forward in the relationship, but more than a few of their family were against it. Now, walking across the ocean floor, Iver felt nervous. He hoped she still felt the same way. 

He hoped she would be there. The way they described her leaving, the mental images they would project in his head about being torn away from the sea... It was difficult, to say the least. He had spent a lot of time deep in the trenches. Or hidden in the hulls of ancient shipwrecks to get away from them.
Carlos
Oliver
Northwind Coast

Oliver was laying alone at the bottom of the ocean, not far from his brother; he could feel his heartbeat as if it were his own, alive and throbbing. His bed was one of sand, and seaweed wrapped itself around his leg occasionally to remind him that he wasn't a part of the scenery. He figured Iver would want to head out soon, though not too soon, seeing that he was trudging on the ocean floor. Oliver let out a bored groan; Iver was always so melodramatic at the worst times. He rolled onto his stomach and called to his brother, who drew nearer by the minute.
"Iver," He purred, "Are you ever gonna getchur feet out'a the fuckin' sand n' get a move on, ya lazy bum?"

Truly, he understood his hesitation, but that didn't mean that he wasn't absolutely tired of it. Oliver wanted to shoot off to the shore and meet this mystery woman, both to humor his brother and to observe her himself. Surely, if she'd caught his prudish eye, she was probably a keeper.
"Let's getta move on, then. B' the time you've gotten there, she's gonna be a damn hag."
Harold
Taedra Westbrook
Northwind Coast

An hour had passed since she had arrived to the shore. The sun had finished it's journey across the sky and sunken into the waves in the time she had waited. No sign of the mist appeared, and the fear that Iver might not be coming suddenly started to creep up through her feet. The sand shifted beneath her feet as she stood, so eventually she moved to take a seat in the sand, digging her heels into the softness of it as her fingers duh deeper into her furs.
Marion
Iver Trok
Northwind Coast

Iver had since launched himself from the ocean floor, allowing Oliver to play catch up all he wanted as he does toward the shore. He was nervous, but Oliver was right. Taedra could be waiting for him. He didn't want to disappoint her.

He had left his jacket with her last time, and he smiled at the thought. He had his shirt tied around his waist now, feeling the currents pull at him directly as he swam toward the surface now, the water getting shallower. He turned his head back to Oliver.

"Cannae do this? Ollie, I don't think I've ever been this nervous before. I can hear a heartbeat out there. Is that her, Ya think? Ollie, I've not the words to say to her." He panicked, letting his older brother catch up with him.