leylakartal-blog

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jassar-atia:

Originally Jassar had planed to go to some tavern, perhaps play some tune, and listen in to what the various tavern-goers were talking about. There was nothing particularly pressing that needed his attention, so instead he changed his plans. Instead he decided to wander around town, see what new shops had appeared while he was gone. While he detested sea travel, he always ended up throwing up the entire trip, he loved traveling to different cities around Europe. He tended to stay on mainland Europe, for connivence more than anything, but now that he was back in London again, he immediately wanted to find his bearings. It was a grey sky, but at this point that was expected of London. If he wanted sun he would choose Italy over England, or Greece over England, or anywhere south of England over England. 

That’s when a spade was shoved into his hand, causing Jassar to stare at it with confusion “Excuse me?” Looking back up at the woman, about to drop the spade at her feet in disregard, he noticed the plant. “Fenugreek?” Most other plants Jassar would have no knowledge of, but this was one of the plants that his father would import from the Ottoman Empire back when he was alive. He had fond memories of it being used as a spice in various dishes. “That’s rather rare to find out here.” With a raised eyebrows he reexamined the woman, looking at her with more scrutiny.

Quickly brushing her hands on her smock, Leyla breathed a sigh of relief, grateful her plants were safe; she had been anticipating their arrival for weeks now, and would not let the health of one of her patients be destroyed by her clumsy fingers. Each of Leyla’s features lit up as she realized the stranger she had shoved her spade knew of Fenugreek. “You’re telling me! It took me months to convince a merchant to import it in for me; in all honestly, I think he only agreed to make me stop nagging him daily” Leyla laughed while making sure the last of her plants were stable in the soil before turning back to the man  standing in front of her. “Please, you must tell me how you know of this plant; you don’t happen to hail from the Ottoman Empire, do you?” She hoped he did. It had been years since she had spoken her native language to another soul.

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surgeonsybil:

Sybil was finally going to be able to refill some of her herbal stores on the ship. It was mostly that she was running low on Belladonna, considering some members of the crew, and herself, liked to use it to get some semblance of sleep on the rougher nights. As much as she had carefully measured the doses, she had found herself running low once they had docked in London. She hadn’t managed to let her anger get the better of her and poison anyone yet, but there was always the thrill of buying something that if she just added the slightest bit too much, she could hold a life in her hands.

But she was shaken out of her darker thoughts as she was quickly passed the gardening tool, smiling as she watched the other woman hurry to save the fallen plant. She shook her head. “Could never blame you. I would have done the same.” She tilted her head, looking closely at the plant. She didn’t recognize it, but her mother had taught her to use the most basic plants. Things she could easily find in a common store or in a forest or field. That was the one thing she did regret about being on the ship. There was no place or time to garden. “What plant is it that you’re saving, exactly?” She was always curious for something new that she could use.

Leyla quickly cleaned up her mess, smiling at the stranger she had passed her spade to. She patted the soil of her plants down, wiped the dirt off her hands, and turned towards the woman. Her brown eyes lit up, the gold specks of her iris shimmering as she noticed the girl take a true interest in the plant. While Leyla would talk about her garden to anyone, it was infinitely more enjoyable when the other party had a genuine curiousity. “It would be such a shame, I have put hours of time into just getting these seeds into London”

“This plant is called Fenugreek, and it is regrettably rare here. I used it constantly back home in the Ottoman Empire, but this is the first time I have managed to bring it to the apothecary. It works as a sort of cure all for one’s digestive track and it treats boils better than any plant you can find here in England; I would swear on it always.” Leyla gushed, the smell of maple syrup from the Fenugreek plants bringing her back to a time where it was a healing staple. “You are welcome to take a closer look at it, if you’d like. Plus, it smells delicious.”

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harperthesiren:

Harper held the gardening tool out to the woman as he listened to her story. It was fascinating to him how someone could be so caught up in what they were doing to have completely ignored their surroundings. He thought that he was the only one. When she stopped the story abruptly, Harper shrugged. “It’s not the weirdest thing that a stranger has handed me.” He said, holding out the tool for her to take back. “What are you doing, anyway?” He had heard of people who could make medicine from plants, mostly during his time spent at the chapel where he grew up. It seemed fascinating and he was always a curious creature.

“Well, I’ve been trying to move my Fenugreek plants into a region of the garden where they’ll receive a little more sun.” Leyla put the shovel down, giving the stranger a smile as she turned fully to give him her full attention. ”See, my boss and I were trying to help one of our patrons, and nothing was working. So, it was incredibly exciting when, after months of begging, I finally got a merchant to agree to import the Fenugreek all the way from the Ottoman Empire.” Fenugreek had been her mothers plant of choice for a number of different ailments; the smell of its leaves always brought her back to those long summer afternoons in the gardens. Leyla looked back at her plants, observing their state once more, “They’ll be ready in just a few days, and then I can grind them into a powder”

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harperthesiren:

Even during the day, Harper’s tasks seemed to never end. If he easily trusted, he might have assigned others to help him with his workload. But Harper was a distrustful creature and while there were a few of the girls he knew that he could at least not burn the place down while he was gone, he never fully trusted them. Which led him to do most of the errands; today was no exception.

As Harper was making his way through the city, he was keeping to himself and doing his best to dull out the noises of the streets. Before he knew it, a woman handed him some sort of planting tool and began to continue her work as if he wasn’t there. Taken aback, Harper stood holding the tool until the woman was finished with her task. “No problem” Harper answered, confused “Do you always hand things to strangers?”

Leyla brushed the soil off her hands onto her work apron, obviously flustered. “While I certainly don’t always do it, I could not honestly say this was the first time I had been guilty of handing gardening equipment to a passerby. A few months ago it was not a spade, but a watering can, and I can not even begin to describe the look on the woman’s face...” Realizing she was rambling, she stopped her anecdote and extended her hand for the spade, “Again, I must give my apologies, having a sharp metal tool thrown at you completely unprovoked was likely not on your agenda for this afternoon.”

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anchoredbythesea:

Gideon’s eyes narrowed at the woman who had crossed past the Interceptor’s gangway. Her appearance told him more than words could. By her complexion, he could see that she had probably never had a hard day’s work in her life. No, those were delicate hands. Why her life would bring her to the docks of hardened men who yearn for a soft woman in their beds, he did not know. “Then I would suggest you take care not to lose your belongings.”

Still catching her breath, Leyla tucked the satchel away, the calming feeling of relief obvious on her features. “While that certainly is good advice, it is all to difficult to heed to on a day like today. For the first time since arriving here I was able to find Samphire in London, just nestled on the underside of the dock, so I suppose my own excitement suppressed my sense of responsibility. It is such a wonderful plant sir, you have no idea just how it will benefit the apothecary!” Leyla had a feeling that she had spoken more words than he had cared to hear, but she had never been one to hide her emotions, especially when that emotion was one of elation.

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Though Leyla has always been a lover of the sun, she was grateful the weather was living up to London’s ever-grey expectations on this particular day. Gardening was no easy task, and even on this overcast day, she had began to work up a sweat. It was especially difficult at the apothecary, for each plant needed to be cared for in an incredibly specific way in order to maintain their remedial properties. She had been watering, planting, and harvesting for hours now, and her exhaustion had began to get the better of her. 

At this particular moment, she was beginning to move her Fenugreek plants into a portion of the window-box that received a little more sunlight with the hopes of tricking them into growing as they would in their natural Ottoman habitat. Leyla had started to uproot the plants when she was startled by a loud noise causing her to drop one. Trying to free her hands and salvage the plant, she instinctively passed the little spade she was holding into the hands of a passerby, “I am so sorry, do you mind?” she said, hectically picking up the remains of her plant. A second later, the plant safely in her hands, she turned back to the stranger and took a deep breath, “My apologies, truly, I could just not bear to let this plant go to waste!”

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It seemed the weather had matched her mood throughout the day. As she worked her fingers raw on the mortar and pestle, a hefty layer of clouds appeared above, revealing clear skies just as she walked out the door of the apothecary. The sun had lifted her spirits, and she had the entire afternoon to do all that she pleased. 

The blisters from the mortar were aching, so she sauntered away from the road, taking a seat on a bench, and examining her wounds. She was not a stranger to blisters on her palms, but she would not risk leaving them untreated; she knew more than anyone the pain an infection could bring. Leyla furrowed her brow and began rubbing Calendula oil on her palms — it had always been her favourite remedy for battered skin. While attending to her hands, she became completely immersed in her own world, and had failed to see or hear the girl who had sat down beside her, instead only realizing she had company by smelling the delightful pastry in the other girls hands. 

“I am quite on par with you in that regard,” Leyla agreed, finally looking up from her hands, “I too have found myself with all of London before me, but no idea on how to tackle her.”

                The ground’s surface was covered in a veil of dust and dirt, which moved with the wafting of her skirts, staining the rich satin of her shoes. Draped in finery, as though others should never forget her station, an idea forced by her mother. Still, she felt grateful that rain had not decided to sour her plans. Leaving her manor in Leister square, or rather her new residence, for she could barely call it a home, had been a trying exercise. Her mother, the inquisitor, had demanded to know the plans of her only child, and had sent a ladies maid in hopes of keeping track of the golden girl.

Rose had formed something of a kinship with the maid, and had instead offered that the girl have the day off, as she too shall escape the trials of her life.  She wandered around the town square, gloved fingers at her sides as she decided where she ought to go. A rowdiness came from the pubs, and she felt certain it was no place for her. Perhaps one day she would be brave enough to enter such a place, if only to staunch her curiosity. 

Settling on an iron bench, pastry caught betwixt her fingers, she sighed softly. “I truly have no idea what I ought to do with my day.”

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Leyla’s feet pounded against the docks as the she ran back towards the edge of the dock internally chastising herself for her own foolishness. Of course she would have left the satchel behind, and at this point it could have been absolutely anywhere; floating towards Paris, or in the meddlesome hands of some passerby who wouldn’t even understand its value. She heard a man utter a warning at the side of the deck, but had simultaneously spotted the satchel full of herbs on the dockside. She quickly snatched it up, before turning around to give her reply, “No accident inflicted by the docks could even begin to rival the pain of listening to my boss scream at me, had I actually lost this satchel; Truly, I had to take the risk.” She said, doing her best to smile threw the shortness of breath her little sprint had caused her.

The rigging of the ship had tangled in the last squall. The Interceptor had barely limped back into port. The Interceptor would be docked until repairs could be made.The sun shown harshly down on Gideon’s back, but he paid no mind to it as he worked. Most of the other men had ventured off into the city. Gideon had elected to stay behind to begin repairs. Footsteps echoed as someone ran along the docks. He paused from his work for a moment, “Best you be careful. Accidents can happen on these docks.”

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madamclaudette:

         Lettie perused the market,looking for a few gifts for her girls and to pass off some information.  As she wandered through the stalls, Lettie stopped at a stall selling flowers and ran her hand over a bouquet.“ What do you think?” She asked and held the flowers out in front of her. “ Roses or daisies? Even if you know nothing about flowers I still value your opinion.”

It was on days like these that Leyla truly adored her job; London had replaced its usual shroud of grey with sunlight, and her boss had sent to her third favourite place in the entire city to find marigold’s for his new remedy. Leyla adored the chaos of the market, for it was a beautiful chaos full of colour, chatter, and a delightfully curious array of scents. At the flower stall, Leyla had picked up more Marigolds than she could hold in a courteous manner when she heard a question about flowers. She stepped towards the speaker, two of her marigolds falling on the ground as she began her answer, “As it happens, I am incredibly opinionated on this subject and would always choose daisies. They are so playful and modest while I find roses to be a little to showy. Plus roses always wilt so quickly, I end up back here far before the merchant is prepared to deal with me again”, she said, gesturing to the marigolds she dropped on the floor.

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Every Kösem Sultan Outfit: 42/∞