livingintrinity: (Magdalane)
livingintrinity ([personal profile] livingintrinity) wrote2007-03-22 12:15 pm

(no subject)

Marian was staring intently at a perfectly folded pile of clothes on the table near her.

Not touching them.

Specifically.

When Marian came down for breakfast she'd light heartedly told the servitor she really wanted a proper dress more than breakfast tea. The servitor--she'd stop trying to figure if they were he's, she's, it's, etc now--had returned with both. In her utter astonishment she'd stared at the dress and been unable to even say her thanks.

When she could speak, still in shock as she picked the dress up, she ironically made a comment about a perfect nightwatchman's costume.

Then with a laugh she'd taken the dress up to her room and changed.

Along side the tea and breakfast, when she returned in the dress there was another pile of clothes on her table. It looked like dark supple leather, in the perfects browns and blacks of Sherwood at night. There were multiple layers to the pile even.

She hadn't said it to anyone specifically.

But it was there.

And she couldn't bring herself to leave it or touch it.

[OOC: Here for about two hours, then I'm off for work and returning in the mid-evening.]