Marion
Iver Trok
Northwind Coast

He raised an eyebrow at her flirtatious attempt, it was... Attractive, but not in the way she was trying to convey. Cute. Iver shrugged, looking up at the stars. "The ocean is very large. And I'm probably the only chap roaming it. Haven't met anyone else so far." *Minus the shipwrecked skeletons*. He wasn't sure to mention that, it wasn't the mood for it. He cocked his head to the side. "I don't make the journey to the mainland often, it feels so relaxing to be able to speak with someone again, especially someone so curious and expressive as you, My Lady."

His hypnotizing eyes closed for a moment before looking up at her in a daring glare, a charming gaze that he knew for a fact worked well no matter what color of eyes he held in his skull. He smirked, sitting up and brushing his hair that had begun drying in salty waves, looking out toward the ocean and breaking his trance. He couldn't help but look at her, maybe it was the years of lonesome travel that made it so trying. His smile dropped slightly, while he sighed once more.

"And why are you so alone, as well? I admit it's odd for a flower such as yourself to be left on the coast alone." He decided to ask a question back for once, perhaps if time permitted he would even ask her *Name* Finally.
Harold
Taedra Westbrook
Northwind Coast

His head cocked to the side once more, and she was given the opportunity to look over his features without fear of him being aware she was doing it. For a man who had claimed to just be walking beneath the waves as opposed to pulling some elaborate ruse, his skin was surprised dry. He had some color too, and not a single pruney finger in sight. 

"How often do you surface? And why did you now, out of boredom, or were you really looking for companionship?" As she asked, he gave her a daring smirk and something in her chest ricocheted so hard she worried she would be knocked forward. 

"I was returning home, my brother wanted to see the coast once more before the cold sets in." She explained, and nodded to the lights from the tavern a little way down the shore. "He's somewhere out there, drinking and flirting and doing things I couldn't imagine, I'm sure."
Marion
Iver Trok
Northwind Coast

He listened to her questions, the sound of her melodic and poised voice was better than any sea shanty he had the time to learn in his years. He paused before he finally responded.

"I don't necessarily spend my entire life underwater, believe it or not. I spend quite a lot of time under waves, yes, but my *Home* Is above water, on an Island with the rest The Scribes. Very hard to find unless you live there. If i'm in the middle of the sea floor I tend to stay beneath, there's no point in surfacing in the middle of nowhere, especially when you don't need to. And *Especially* When a ship is above you. I avoid those lest they harpoon me thinking I'm actually *Worth* Something." He replied, only *Half* Joking. "I travel faster underwater anyway.

"I actually have to go to the local apothecary here, Mother needs her herbs and spices." He rolled his eyes as a son with chores would. "I have time, though, so why not spend it with a lovely lady on the shores, eh?" He winked at her charmingly before looking toward the illuminated windows of the ever buoyant tavern. "It's getting late for your dear brother, I hope no wench has served him one too many. I would like for you and yours to be safe."
Harold
Taedra Westbrook
Northwind Coast

For some reason, the man implying he lived on an island made the whole ordeal even more absurd. Her suspension of disbelief faded, and her eyes rolled away from him and back towards the waves. The undertow was stronger now, the light of the moon starting to charm the waves in the same way the man had charmed a conversation out of her. 

"The more you talk the more fantastical your story gets, I think I am content to truly believing this is a dream." She mused aloud, and mimicked the way he was leaning back on his elbows. The motion allowed for her to tilt her chin upwards, her golden waves bunching on the blanket beneath her as she leaned her head back. "Some fairy tale I must have read somewhere, set to life by a handsome man I must have seen earlier today." She continued, but looked towards him as he added that he wanted for her and hers to be safe. 

A warm smile crept over her lips, and she shifted her weight onto her other elbow so she could easily lift her hand to move towards his chin once more, just as she had previously. 

"I wonder what it says about me, that I dream up a beautiful soul who worries about my safety, even after only a brief encounter?"
Marion
Iver Trok
Northwind Coast

He chuckled slightly at her decision that this was, in fact, a dream, letting her reach to grab his face once more. He watched her with golden eyes, allowing her to say whatever she wanted. Beautiful soul? Hm, never heard that one before. He closed his eyes briefly, just embracing another creature's touch for a moment.

"Maybe you're just as lonely as I am, my dear." He said with a raised eyebrow. He opened his eyes again, reaching up and taking her hand in his. It was rough, worn, from his younger days of hoisting sails and climbing to crow's nests. Upon closer inspection, she could see that they were slightly webbed at the base of the fingers. "I won't convince you this isn't your dream, although I'm quite certain I'm very much a part of reality, I quite enjoy it when the Lady of the shores is bold in what she says... And I don't mind being the handsome stranger in a pretty woman's dream. Quite flattering, actually."
Harold
Taedra Westbrook
Northwind Coast

"Lady of the shores?" The blonde questioned the title, her eyes dipping to where he had taken her hand and now held it in the space between them. She'd never been called that before, and doubted she ever would again. It was a gross misnomer for who she was. "Hardly. Actually, not at all. I'm a Lady of the Peaks, if anything. And that's only until a proposal sweeps me to some new land." She mused, though there was no harshness in her tone. Taedra wasn't bothered by the idea of a marriage for her family, she liked knowing that she may never raise a sword for House Westbrook, but she could raise a generation for them. 

"I don't think I'm lonely." She countered, having had to think on that for a long moment. "People are always around, I'm rarely allowed a moment alone, actually." It was true, she had been raised pretty much under her father's wing. He'd told her she was the closest image of her mother of all the Westbrook children, and she had learned that it helped ease some of the hurt if she stayed close. 

It was a naive answer though, and not at all what he had meant. She knew it, but the flirtatious attempt she'd tried earlier didn't feel right on her skin. She'd never flirted with a man, and one she was trying to convince herself was an illusion wasn't a good place to start. "How many Scribes are there? Certainly you're not alone."
Marion
"I am lucky number thirteen of all the scribes. A few after me makes us 19 in all." He replied matter of fact, his thumb sweeping across the smooth skin of her hand in a circular motion. "You're a lady, and you're on the shores. This is the only place I've known you, therefore..." He gestured with his hand to have her complete the sentence in her own head. He then scooted a little closer, taking advantage of her disregard of reality. He really did like this time, and truly he hoped she didn't loathe it at least.

"Perhaps then if you're *Never* Alone... The one time you are you dream something up, eh? A *Dashing* Individual with *Incredible* Charm? *Mystery* About him as well, Ooh, bonus." He jested, acting a bit dramatic and running his tongue across his teeth animatedly. 

He looked out to the sea, and it could be seen that he dropped his joking act for a small window of clarity, thoughtfulness as he looked out to it. Hand still with hers, his grip softened ever so gently before letting go completely. "Have you dreamt up a name for me or shall I tell you it myself? Well, I suppose that would be the same thing."
Harold
Taedra Westbrook
Northwind Coast

"Nineteen scribes scattered over the seas doesn't sound like enough, you're right." She mused, her eyes closing as his thumb smoothed over the back of her hand. It was soothing, and paired with the sound of the waves it was easy to believe he was a part of the ocean itself. His voice, the motion of his thumb, and the warmth of the night provided a type of intimacy she'd never experienced before. 

At his prompt to finish the sentence she smiled, lazily turning her head to direct it towards him, only to find he'd moved closer towards her. What she was about to say disappeared from her mind, her eyes looking over the golden glow that illuminated his cheeks and the length of his nose. 

"It's a compliment to my imagination that I'd dream of someone so confident in himself and so wonderfully in tune with the element he claimed to embody." She mused, and her eyes flickered down to where his thumb still circled. "I like that." She told him truthfully. "And the way your tongue just crossed your teeth, I didn't expect something like that to make my breath catch a bit." 

He melted a bit, returning his gaze to the sea and asked her if she'd considered a name for him. She hadn't, and in the same way he hadn't asked for hers she hadn't intended to ask for his. 

"Does my ocean man need a name?" She asked, then amended. "If you have one, wouldn't that make you real?"
Marion
Iver Trok
Northwind Coast

"Very good imagination indeed..." He murmured, a small smile on his lips. "My name... Say perhaps I'm not a dream— in the literal sense— And say I had a name. Maybe several. One from when I was born and a few from when I was born again... Would it matter? If I was real, would you come to see me again?" He asked quietly, skimming over to her, and leaning in. "Would I be able to make your heart skip and have conversations long into the night?"

He was quite bold as well, as he always was. He squeezed her hand slightly before letting go. "If that's the case, aye, I'd like for Ocean Man to have another name... And I'd like My Lady of the Shores and Peaks to have one as well."

The tide was at its highest, a few feet below the dune. The ocean seemed to push itself toward Iver, pulling for him to come back, reaching for their son as he laid on the shore with Taedra. The moon had begun to rise and the sun escaped from view, and all was quiet as the tavern began to settle and patrons began leaving with laughter and shanties on their tongues. Their time was running short, slowly.
Harold
Taedra Westbrook
Northwind Coast

The cadence in his voice changed from scholar to poetry, and as if he could hear her heart pounding, or maybe feel it in the pulse of her veins in the hand he held he mentioned making her heart skip. Taedra flushed, but didn't pull her gaze away to hide it. The moon was rising but not high enough to betray the pink in her cheeks, at least not to any normal eyes. Maybe the man with glowing golden eyes could see it color rising on her cheeks, and maybe that was what had prompted his mention of it anyway. 

He leaned in, and once more called her by that strange title that she was starting to wish actually belonged to her. It was not partially true, and for the briefest of moments, her mind played out a scenario where she took the mantle with him at her side. It only deepened the flush, and she realized that her mind wouldn't have cast two illusions at once. 

This man, leaning into her with the tide threatening to lick the heels of her boots, was entirely real. 

"Taedra Westbrook."
Marion
Iver Trok
Northwind Coast

With the sound of her name in his ears, he took a deep and heavy breath, nodding slowly. He saw the pink blooming in her cheeks and smiled, nodding slowly.

"Iver Trok, Son of Oceans." He responded lowly, the roughness in his voice highlighted by the tone in which he said it. He showed her his teeth again, the golden tooth glinting like his eyes as he came to be a little happier.

"Taedra... It's a pleasure to meet you." He finally said after a long pause, his eyes locked on her delicate features. "As a mysterious stranger on the cusp of a dream, it is an *Honor*." He took her hand and gave her a small kiss on her fingers, commonplace among nobles, completely normal, although his whiskers tickled a little. He sat up, watching as more and more people left the Tavern. He looked over at Taedra and sighed, his glowing gaze fixated on taking in her every detail.

"My lady Taedra. What a perfect name." He confessed. He imagined pulling her by the waist and holding her closer, but the ocean called for him and soon her brother would call for her. He pulled his knees up, resting his arms on them. Oh, how he wished he could control time as well as he could control the waters and mists.
Harold
Taedra Westbrook
Northwind Coast

Iver gifted his name in exchange for hers, and she felt her lips move to say it without sound, wanting to commit it to memory should she ever see him again. His lips grazed her fingers, the coarse hair of his beard meeting soft skin in a way that felt like a finger prick. It was the equivalent of pinching herself to assure she was awake, and as the sound of laughter started to pour from the tavern, she became all too aware she wasn't dreaming. 

"The pleasure is all mine." She insisted, and when he sat up a fear plucked at her chest that he was going to vanish. "Can we offer you a ride into town? Must you leave so soon?" She asked, though her darting glances from him to the tavern told her that even she was worried what would happen should Thierou find her laid out in the sand with a stranger so close. He wasn't the kind to jump to conclusions, but Taedra was coddled by her brothers, she didn't think the conversation would start of pleasantly. And yet, she hoped.
Marion
Iver Trok 
Northwind Coast

He laid back again beside her and sighed, looking up at the stars. He knew perfectly well that he was capable of traversing the port side town, but perhaps he would take her up on that offer. And then... He thought about her brother. Yikes.

"As much as I long to spend more time with you, I'm not sure that your company would appreciate it, especially after he's had a few drinks. I want you and him to be home safely, as soon as possible. The night holds mysteries. And not all of them are as handsome as I." *He winked once more, giving her hand a pat as he looked back at the stars.*
Harold
Taedra Westbrook
Northwind Coast

He laid back, and her instincts told her to lie down beside him. She started to, then in the distance,.Over the dunes she heard Thierou shouting her name. 

"_Taedra! Where are you?!_" His voice she had expected to be laced with alcohol was instead laced with fear. It had gotten dark, and she had told him she'd be waiting in the carriage. It was probably concerning to find she _wasn't_ there, tipsy or otherwise. 

"My company isn't cruel, he'd appreciate someone who took the time to watch out for me." She offered, and glanced to the dunes. She heard the sound of boots kicking through loose sand, and she knew they didn't have long to talk in private. 

"_Taedra!_" Her brother called her name again, and his voice cracked. She straightened fully, and looked to Iver. 

"If you want to avoid him you'll have to go now." She whispered, reaching out to squeeze his hand.
Marion
Iver Trok 
Northwind Coast

Iver heard his voice and stood slowly as she spoke. He stayed crouched for a moment as she grabbed his hand and he smiled, leaning forward for half a second to be close to her ear.

"Until we meet again, Taedra, My Lady of the Shores and Peaks." He whispered softly and standing up in time to see her brother running towards them. Avoiding was still in the books but her brother would surely notice his eyes and think of a predator instead of a man. 

He looked down and pulled something out of his pocket, placing it in her hand, and then turning and splashing back into the ocean, the mists cloaking his exit as be pushed off the shore and into the deeps once more.

He had left in her hand a small lavender piece of sea glass, worn smooth and matte by the ocean's salty waves. A small token from him to her, a sweet and gentle object just like her. The mists almost immediately cleared from around her, his presence lost once more to the ocean's waves.