Page 302: A Favor from the Lady Ghost
A Favor from the Lady Ghost
Summary: Saffron keeps her promise to Kamron.
Date: 17 May 2012
Related Logs: Page 285: A Proposal of Freedom
Kamron Saffron 
Kamron's Pavilion Tent - The Tournament Grounds
A pavilion tent, left open.
May 17, 289

Kamron shakes his head inside his tent, pointing from one section of laid-out armor to another, "no… -that- one goes there. -That- one goes there." Percy looks up from his crouch over the armor and groans, "I thought I had it, Ser…" Kam shakes his head, "Not quite… here, watch this." And he crouches down, picking up one piece of armor and shifting it to another location. Despite the relative darkness, the flaps to his pavilion tent are raised, and the light of several lanterns sprays out from within.

Behind the pair, having slipped into the tent with a kind of stealthy grace that drove her minders mad, stands Saffron Banefort. It is unsure exactly how long she has been there, perhaps no more than a few minutes. She has a half-quirked smile on her lips, her head slightly tilted to watch the exchange between knight and squire. She must have been wearing the hood that now gathers around her neck, as her hair is still tucked within its folds. She gives them both a few moments to decipher where exactly everything is meant to go before she gives a soft, and polite, "Ahem."

At that little sound, Percy jumps half a foot in the air, the spaulder he was holding clattering to the ground. Thankfully, the squire manages to not to squeak, but it's a near thing. Kamron himself looks up sharply, his right hand going across his body to grasp the hilt of his dirk. Arching an eyebrow, he drops his hand from the weapon and looks past the Banefort even as he rises to his feet and bows his head, "Lady Saffron. Without your minders? Mistress Morla would be scandalized."

Saffron smiles apologetically to the squire, giving him a small bow of her head. "Don't worry, Percy… none but me saw, and I have no wish to tell the rest of the squires." Acknowledged by the Mallister knight, she steps further into the pavilion tent with a slight smirk edging onto her mouth. "It is a good thing she finds you such a noble knight, Ser Kamron… she would think you the innocent victim to my wiles." It is then she looks back to Percy, steeling herself a bit with one of those Lady Banefort smiles. "Percival… I need a moment to speak with Ser Kamron in private." There is something in her tone that suggests it is quite serious despite her previous jest just moments ago. After all, she called him Percival.

Percy blushes sharply at the reassurance, toing at the ground. Kamron on the other hand, shakes his head at her words, "Despite my entertainment of the estimable Mistress Morla, Lady Saffron, I think she knows enough to be sure that I'm a wily one myself." The 'request' for Percival causes him to stammer a moment, looking helplessly to his knight. Kamron studies the squire a moment, then gestures slightly with a dismissive little waggle of his fingers, "Head on out there, where you can see. Let's keep Lady Saffron's reputation intact." Percy sighs with relieve, and goes hurrying off out of the tent. Once he's gone, Kam looks over to his guest, "Now then, what can I do for you?"

The Banefort daughter waits until the squire has gone, and she even looks after him for a moment longer before she turns back to the knight. She steps toward him now, keeping her back to the squire as to further keep the secret behind this visit. "It is quite easy, Kamron Mallister," she says in a soft and easy tone. From the folds of her cloak she removes a white kerchief, embroidered in beautiful detail of curls and whorls. It is offered to him, held gently by the pinch of her fingers. Her gaze does not leave his face. "Take this favor."

Kamron tilts his head quizzically as she reaches into her cloak, his eyebrows shooting up as she speaks, "You haven't been talking to my Lady Cousin, now have you, Lady Saffron?" A chuckle rises to his lips, and he shakes his head, "Not nice to go back to the original plan now that we're in the midst of things." Percy has stopped a little ways away from the tent, theoretically out of earshot, and rubs at the back of his neck, trying desperately not to look back into the tent.

"Kamron, by the Seven, take the damn kerchief," Saffron says as a laugh bubbles on her lips, and she steps forward to take one his hands gently with hers, tucking the favor against his palm. "It is from a beautiful woman, one whose name you cannot speak," she says in a quiet voice as she looks up into his eyes, a slight smirk trying hard not to overrun her expression. "You promised her you would wear her favor, and it would be dishonorable to take another lady's favor when you have already promised another." She gives him a meaningful look now, both coppery brows raised. "Isn't it?"

Kamron wraps his hand around the handkerchief out of sheer reflex, glancing down at it and then laughing softly. He pulls out the embroidered corner and looks down at the single embroidered letter, and his laughter doubles. Shaking his head, he hefts up the kerchief, "Now that's a good idea, Lady Saffron. A really damned good idea." He tucks it inside his jacket, "I'll pull it out when Percy doesn't know exactly who's been by here." There's a pause, and then he pats the pocket where he tucked it away, "It's fine embroidery… did you do it yourself?"

"A relief it is, that you are not as thick as you look, Kamron," she says, dropping the Ser only to show her meaningful jest, and there is a glimmer of laughter in her eyes. She takes a small sidestep so that if Percy does finally glance their way, he will see that there is nothing to be embarrassed about happening within the confines of the tent. She gives a small shrug of her shoulder before she nods. "I confess, it is mine… I had to finish it in secret, or Mistress Morla might have recognized it." She then gives a small laugh as she folds clasps her hands behind her, left hand holding onto her right elbow in a familiar stance. "To be claimed by a ghostly Lady," she says offhandedly with a smile. "What a story that would make."

Kamron snorts softly, "I'm plenty thick, Lady Saffron." He raises one hand to tap at his temple, to indicate that he's talking about brains just like she is. "Don't sell me short just yet." A chuckle rises up in his lips again, "And if I should win the tilt, just which lady could I possibly declare Queen of Love and Beauty, since Lady Ghost is not liable to be around to claim the rewards of her favor."

Saffron laughs, shaking her head even as she steps away slightly to look over the bits and pieces of armor carefully strewn about. "That, Ser Kamron, will be up to you to decide… I cannot possibly think of everything. Perhaps you will just have to further the beautiful story of Lady Ghost. Perhaps she is from far away, unable to be present for your victory. You will have all the girls of the Riverlands swooning, whispering amongst themselves… who is this girl, where does she dwell?" She takes in a dramatic breath, pressing her hand to her chest. "Why, oh why, could I not be her?" And then she flashes him a coy smile, before she shrugs her shoulders a bit. "Besides, it is dangerous to put a face on such things as Love and Beauty."

Kamron laughs in amusement again, the sound causing Percy to look back in surprise. Thankfully, the two are well away from one another, and nothing untoward is happening. Clearly. Kamron nods, "I have a few ideas. But I thought the idea was to -not- make the every girl in the Riverlands swoon. I suppose that's your plan though, isn't it? Make sure I still depend on you to keep them away, so that I'll keep distracting Mistress Morla for you." A frown crosses his amusement for a heartbeat, "Wait… does she know that you're here? I thought you said something about that…"

"There is so little to entertainment here in the Riverlands, I must ensure what little I have stays in tact," Saffron says casually as she continues to look about his tent, moving amongst the armor with ease. She glances over to him though as he frowns, and she gives him a comforting smile. "She knows I am here, but she thinks that Punbah and Timmen are standing watch… but, they got distracted and I lost my way here in the pavilions. It was chance that I happened upon your tent, Ser Kamron." She offers him a light smile as she looks back at his gear, almost critizing it with her pale gaze.

Kamron shakes his head, "I don't know what hold you have over those two, but it's absolutely going to get you into trouble some day, Lady Saffron." There's no chastisement in his voice, just amusement. He looks down at his armor, shrugging a little uncomfortably in his mourning doublet, "I haven't had time to get it re-lacquered. Well, I suppose that I have, but I didn't want to spend the money. After all, Good King Robert told me at Pyke, 'There is no garb more fit for a man than bruises and bandages after a battle.'"

"Punbah and Timmen have looked after me since my ninth nameday, and they have looked after each other since they were born… though Timmen would be Morla's faithful snitch, Punbah knows I am not as wild and untamed as Morla preaches." Saffron shares this in quiet tones as she looks over his armor, and then his shield. She looks up with raised brows as he quotes King Bob, and she offers him a small grin. "He speaks wisely, Ser Kamron. My father said something similar to my younger cousins, when they were first under his charge. It probably was to also lighten their spirits, what with his daughters casting judgement on their novice skill." She hesitates before amending, "Well, his youngest daughters at least. Neither Magnola nor Terra would have been caught watching boys flail their swords around."

Kamron chuckles softly, "Not just on their skill, I'm sure, but on the bruises and scrapes that they accumulated due to their lack of skill, I'm sure." Shaking his head slightly, he adds, "I have a sister. She liked to make fun of me as well, early on in my training, when it was my father doing the teaching." He moves over to one of the camp chairs offering it out to her, "Unless you're going to deliver and run, of course, Lady Saffron."

Saffron casts a glance toward the chair, and then back out to the paths running between the tents. There is a sigh and smile, and the woman unlatches the broach to swing the cloak off her shoulders. It reveals one of her newest gowns — a pale blue garment that has been painfully tended to until it fits her frame more perfect than anything she has worn about the Roost yet. She folds up the cloak delicately before she takes the chair with a nod of her head. "It best I stay until my guards find me… it will make them feel less hoodwinked if Ser Kamron Mallister is keeping me safe for them." She dimples up at him before she turns the conversation back to his sister. "I'm sure she doesn't laugh so cruely now that you are a knight, Ser Kamron. You've been to war and back, I'm sure she is proud of her brother."

Kamron pulls out another camp chair and sets it up, settling carefully down onto it, "That's quite a fetching gown, Lady Saffron." He gestures up to his own ebon attire, "I must admit that I'm starting to miss wearing color." He nods his head, "I would expect she is. I haven't actually seen her — or my parents — since getting back from the Iron Islands. I had hoped that she might be here at the tourney, since she's of an age to find a husband herself, and even with all the Freys around, there are quite a few eligible young men here."

Saffron actually laughs at the compliment. "Between you and Lord Justin, I'm starting to suspect that I usually walk around in a drape box." Still, she dimples and there is a small twinkle in her pale eyes. "Mistress Morla drove about three seamstresses to tears before we managed to get it right… a letter came from the Banefort requesting I not wander around the tourney grounds in black. My mother was quite… insistent." She smirks a bit before she leans back into her chair, keeping her attention on the knight now across from her. Her nose wrinkles up at the mention of the Freys. "If she is lovely, you had better wish her not find a Frey. Perhaps if she does manage to make her way here, we can have Muirenn find her a husband."

Kamron arches his eyebrows, "Lord Justin has been paying you particular compliments then? Doesn't know know that his house already has one connection to House Banefort?" Laughter accompanies the words, although one eyebrow raises at the mention of her mother's insistence. He shakes his head at the discussion of the Freys, "Probably why my parents haven't sent her up here. Too many Freys would love to get their hands on a Mallister bride." He gestures across to the woman in the other camp chair, "Or a Banefort bride, quite honestly."

"Trust me when I say, Ser Kamron, that Lord Justin was more complimenting out of surprise than actual appreciation," Saffron says, that dimpled smile quickly turning to a dimpled smirk. She shakes her head a bit, tightening her lips a bit. "I don't think that there is any intention to marry me off to a Terrick… with my father giving the family so many daughters, I assume Lord Banefort wants to spread us around." There is the tiniest hint of morose at that statement of fact, but it is dashed away by snort. She crosses her arms defiantly at her chest. "Don't even speak that aloud, or the Seven might hear you," she says with a scoff.

Kamron shakes his head, "I never knew Lord Justin to be a fool, Lady Saffron." Once more, humor infuses his words, although it sobers as her own voice drops down into moroseness, "We both knew that we would end up being married off to suit our families. One of the downsides of being a noble, not that there are many of them." He chuckles a little, nudging his breastplate with one boot, "I certainly wouldn't have been able to afford anything that nice without being noble. I'd be stuck wearing just maile… which isn't exactly jousting wear, although I'm sure some poor hedge knight will try to do it."

Despite the humor in his tones, she turns a lovely pink at the apples of her cheeks and tips of her ears. "There are many fools to be had, Ser Kamron, though I know that men often are fools by accident." She continues her smile, even if it has gained a bit of wear at the edges. "I know my fate, Ser Kamron. And I'm sure that whoever I end up being given to will be a solid match for my House, and that I will give him nothing but sons." She tilts her head a bit, smile unchanged. "And if your cousin has any part of it, you will be matched to someone of both beauty and worth."

Kamron makes a wiggling little gesture with his hands, "I thought you said you were one of five sisters? And you think you can guarantee all sons?" Shaking his head, he chuckles, "As if my Lady Cousin has any say at all over whom I will marry. That will be all Lord Mallister and my parents." Leaning back as best as he can in the folding camp chair, he adds, "I was betrothed once, you know, Lady Saffron? Several years ago. It didn't turn out well, and I was never married."

"Yes, but my sister Magnola has managed to give her husband two sons already, so the curse must be broken," Saffron says pointedly as she leans forward a bit, resting her elbow against her knee and her cheek within her palm. A smile blossoms on her lips at the mention of the young Lord Mallister, and she looks up toward the knight. "Oh yes, that's why Muirenn is so involved… she believes Lord Mallister will heed her suggestions." Her gaze has wandered again, looking out toward the settling night. Though, as he mentions a long-ago betrothal, she looks back to him with her brows lifted high. "You were?" She asks with a small frown pulling at her lips. "What happened?" There is almost a bracing tone to her words.

Kamron hesitates slightly, his eyes narrowing as he considers just how to respond to the question. Eventually, he comes up with, "The Lady was found to be in no fit condition to marry." That seems delicate enough, and he nods to himself, "The betrothal was broken, and I escaped. She was a nice enough girl, although a bit too controlling." Out in the night, Percival clears his throat, coming back toward the tent, "My Lady… Ser… the Lady's guards are on their way here…" and he points off through the camp, "If they need, I'll swear on my honor as a Ryger that nothing happened…"

Saffron holds her gaze on the Mallister knight, and her expression tries its best not to reveal that she fully understands his meaning — but, she does. She gives him a small smile, even shaking her head a bit. "Well, I am happy you escaped, Ser Kamron… what would we be if you were already married?" That question is, unfortunately, left to linger between them as Percy comes to remind the Banefort daughter that, for her, there is really no escape.

As she begins to stand, Punbah comes up beside Percy with a loud huff of breath and sweat on his brow. He looks as if he has been running around all of the Twins looking for his charge, and he holds his side as he leans into one of the tent's supports. "I found you," he exclaims as he looks between her and the Mallister knight, nodding to the latter respectfully. "I know… I know… we got distracted… you must have not realized we weren't behind you," the guard says in either earnest denial or earnest acceptance.

Saffron smiles to him nonetheless. "Don't worry, I won't tell Mistress Morla if you don't." And she lays a finger aside her nose knowingly. She turns back to Kamron as she shakes out her cloak and places it back around her shoulders. "Ser Kamron, thank you for your hospitality."

Kamron shakes his head, "I would be home at Talon Point being ordered around by my Lady Wife, and not out playing at a tournament." A chuckle rises to his lips, "And if I take too hard a hit or four tomorrow, I may wish that were the case." As Punbah comes running up, Percy nods, and Kamron rises to his feet, nodding to the guard as well, "I do hope that Master Timmen hasn't gotten lost in all these tents, Master Punbah." He gestures over to Saffron, "As you can see, your Lady charge is quite alright." Bowing to said Lady Charge, he responds, "A pleasure, Lady Saffron. I hope you enjoy the tilting tomorrow."

"Oh," Punbah says in a slight confuddled voice as he looks over his shoulder for his fellow guard. Saffron casts Kamron a small smile as she steps out of the tent. "Come along, Master Punbah… I'm sure we can find him gawking at the Lannister tent." Her gaze slides over once toward Kamron as she inclines her head gently. "May the Seven protect you, Ser Kamron." And with that, she turns to leave with her guard in tow.