Simon Basset One Shots

morning glory

The new day's sun bathed the horizon in a rich, all-consuming glow of marigold. One that pierced the land below in a sharp light, spreading it's warm hue across the ever rolling fields, making the blades of long emerald grass shimmer in a lighter glint of chartreuse. The tall tree line barricading the estate in the far distance, stood like shadowed silhouettes as the sun rose behind their stretching branches. The morning sky void of the blue destined to bleed into the piercing golden glow, swirled traces of a peach toned orange and something as soft as the petals of cherry blossoms into the vast space. A mural, brushed with the gingeriest touch across the open sky, as the morning broke through the faint memory of night that had since released it's hold on the warming atmosphere. 

Simon Basset's black leather boots strolled leisurely through the open field. The land soft but sturdy beneath his footsteps, the tips of his freshly shined shoes grazing through the growing blades, feeling the brush of the landscape beneath his sole with each passing step. The air was pleasant and clear, as the sunshine breathed it's warmth across the skin of his bare neck, but the atmosphere had yet to reach the peak of it's heat. For the traces of the early morning dew found in the fresh break of dawn, lingered on the breaths of the soft breeze trickling through the air. A crispness banishing any sensation of humidity from the cloudless sky, and although Simon knew that the day was to eventually warm with the rise of the shining sun, he relished in the morning that felt like the first fresh breath of Spring. 

You were gone when Simon awoke, his eyes met only with the blinding sun that seeped it's bright rays in through the drawn curtains. The bedchamber warmed by the new morning's presence, but as Simon's palm stretched out towards your side of the bed, his body instinctually searching for you when consciousness found him, the sheets bunched beside him were cold. The lasting trace of your presence residing in the faint indentation against your flattened pillow and the scent of your late night lotion, that laced the sheets with the softest whiffs of rosewater and your skin's natural sweetness. Simon disliked waking up in the large bed alone, feeling his heart faltering as he rolled his face back into his pillow, as his empty hand flopped against your side of the mattress. But it wasn't an unusual occurrence, for Simon Basset had soon learned that his new wife often rose with the sun. You were an early bird, Simon mused on mornings such as these, anxious for the daylight to spread your wings and see where the hours may lead you. 

Today, they led you out to the stunning gardens on the grounds of Clyvedon Castle, Simon discovered. As he dressed swiftly in a simple pair of black trousers and matching black muslin shirt, with a black waist coat detailed with the most intricate swirl of gold and deep maroon designs, Simon felt rather relaxed. Not only in his attire that lacked the extensive sophistication and rather constricting fit needed in all proper settings, but Simon found that he was unusually at ease, in an estate that he had never once been able to use that word to describe it before. 

The rising sun bathed your crouched body in a bright glow of marigold honey, as Simon turned the corner and found you knelt down beside the freshly bloomed roses. His footsteps once stepping across the soft grass, now beginning to hit against the gravel that lined the stretching path through the gardens, but found his movement's faltering as soon as his eyes found you. His boots stopping in a soft crunch against the bumpy pavement, and his arms crossed loosely over his chest. The rays of the sun warming against Simon's exposed forearms, as his black shirt was rolled tightly beneath the bend of his elbow, the veins running thick and wide beneath the surface of his flesh, began to bulge softly in his cross armed stance. His eyes studied you from afar, and even the sight of your back that faced him was enough to warrant a small smile to begin expansion against Simon's lips. 

Your stance was one of a slouched and knelt down form, as tall rose bushes bloomed around you, the skirt of your dress billowed out across the gravel beneath your hidden heels. The fabric ethereal and Simon rather grinned at the notion that perhaps the blue missing from the new morning's sky, was found right there in the brilliant saturation of a deep sky blue woven straight into the stitching of your frock. Your hair hung in a low twisted braid, cascading down your spine with wispy strands that peaked out from the style and blew gently in the calm breeze. It was a style that your fingers twisted easily yourself, making Simon smile further at the knowledge that you loathed the extravagant hairstyles that rather left you more times than not with a pounding migraine. You looked out of place, crouched down upon the soil with your fingers toiling at the base of the Earth and yet, in the very same moment you looked as though you were exactly where you were meant to be. Peaceful and happy, bathed in the warmth of a new day's light, surrounded with the beauty and intoxicating fragrance of a bursting spring garden. His morning bird had flown herself straight into a heavenly oasis.