|Summary:||Roslyn and Justin take a ride along the coast, take off their clothes.|
|Related Logs:||Idk, Iron Born invasion, bandits. Stuff.|
|The Coast — Terrick's Roof|
|It is a length of coast where the Ironborn invaded.|
|Tue Jun 11, 289|
The weather hasn't been entirely agreeable, storms lashing the coast with plenty of wind, rain and lightning. Brief breaks of sunlight have bathed the land with brightness but again today there are clouds rolling in and dampness in the air. Still, it's pleasant enough with a breeze coming in from the ocean and no imediate threat of rain, no particularly dark clouds looming on the way.
Justin has been a bit aloof, not just from Roslyn since she arrived but from the keep in general. He seems to be a young man who keeps to himself much of his time, or burries himself in work to keep himself occupied in the town with the various rebuilding efforts. That or things are bothering him. Either way, when he's told that Roslyn would care to take that ride with him, he quietly agrees on a time to meet. Horses are saddled, appropriate escorts to accompany them for Lady Roslyn's benefit. It starts out as you might expect, Justin leading the way to give her a tour of sorts. The high bluff ripples with the wind in the tall green grasses overlooking the cliffs and the sea below to the west, the tower standing tall and alone to oversee it all, the Roost to the east sightly. Other towers can be seen lining the coast, smaller ones. Justin stops his grey, the wind blowing the horse's mane around as he lifts his arm to point towards one of those, "I'm told they landed up there. The warning bells were sabotaged so they couldn't be rung to warn the town. I gather they came in at an angle so not to be easily seen from Four Eagles tower." Justin's voice is kept low, but pitched enough to carry against the wind. He frowns, not having been here durring the Ironborn seige.
Quiet, thoughtful, Roslyn marks the length of the coast that Justin indicates with a sweep of hazel eyes before they lift again to the lord. She has been reserved as well, herself, though not uncompanionable, for all that she was eager for a chance away from the castle with only one Terrick. "I have heard stories of it. How badly the Roost was hit," she answers quietly herself, her fingers on the reigns drawing her borrowed mare all the closer to Justin's own stallion.
Turning his horse a bit, Justin squints his eyes against the wind, "I was laid up in Seagard, once I could get to it. I assume you were in the Mire, Lady Roslyn?" He looks back to her, then gestures to the sandy path that snakes through the wind tossled grass, "We can go down the trail from the bluff to the shore. The wind will be somewhat less, lower down." He starts to lead the way, his gelding going at a walk for a distance. The view goes on and on when she looks to the west, vast clouds caught out over the water for a good distance, a ship passing by on the water and the dock being built visible below. Justin guides his horse to start on the zigzag trail to descend to the beach below, smattered with rounded stones. It is not a sandy beach though it has pockets of sandy stretches. He looks back in the saddle to see that Roslyn and her horse isn't having any difficulty with it.
"In the Mire, yes, when the ravens arrived with such dark news. Removed from it all, but I am sure that was not the same at Seagard?" The question isn't one of ignorance, as Roslyn likely knows at least the bare details of what happened at Seagard as well, but it is toned so as to be inviting to anything further Justin may want to say on the subject. She nods to his offer, setting her own horse after his carefully, slowly. She is not nearly as skilled with them as her brother.
The trail is well used and while not wide enough for more than one horse at a time, it is cleared of some stone and packed with earth. Once down, Justin sets his horse to walking towards the water, still picking his way leisurely, "I was badly hurt. I'm afraid I wasn't much aware what was going on. They told me later that Ser Haffrey had died and that we'd barely gotten free of them. When I was able, I saw to getting his things sent back and came to the Roost. I hadn't seen it in nearly a decade. Didn't look anything like I remembered it." Dim memories anyway. The grey gelding is quiet, ears pricking forward as they come to the edge of the water. The waves rolling in are a bit rougher than on quieter days, the sky overcast and grey. It makes the sea grey also so it's not the prettiest she might see it. Justin stops to watch Roslyn, "Do you know how to swim, Lady Roslyn? I expect that Lady Anais and my sister would be very pleased to have a women's only outting. Lady Muirenn had mentioned a picnic … and I promise, no bandits this time." He smiles a little, then pulls a leg up to draw off his boots to hop down into the water to walk. But then he stops without removing them, since he promised not to do inappropriate things with her. Instaed, Justin says, "I think you'll like the water, on a quieter, sunny day."
"How were you hurt, my lord?" Roslyn questions, concern written softly across her words as her brows start to draw together. Then she is taking to slide from her own saddle, unused to dismounting on her own but not unable. When her feet are back on solid ground, she moves closer again to Justin. A smile plays at her lips for his abandoned gesture. "Go ahead, Lord Justin. It will hardly damage my reputation much more, to see your feet again." A pause. "I do know how to swim."
Roslyn almost makes him laugh, and it eases his grey mood somewhat. "All right, but no swimming for you today. Give your brothers as well as your father a heart attack." What with her in her dress and all, and out here with him. Justin circles his grey around out of the water and hops off. Before he answers her question of his injuries, he pulls of his boots and socks and uses the loops inside his boottops to tie them to his saddle. When he's finished, he unbuttons his sleaves to roll them up and rolls up his pant legs a bit so he can lead his horse and walk in the water. If she has never felt the sea water waves rushing in and washing the sand between her toes with many tiny colorful muscle clams scurrying to reburry themslves, then Roslyn's in for a surprise.
Justin lifts his left arm to show her the pinked scar that cuts through the muscle on the outside of his forearm, "Here, and across my right thigh, but the worst was here - an Ironborn axe, once my shield had been ripped from my arm." With his right hand he traces a line against his left side ribs. "Axe is slower than a sword but it delivers a powerful stroke."
"But you recovered fully?" Roslyn questions with quiet interest, her gaze marking the scar even as she leans to remove her own riding boots. Without a belt loop, she only tucks them under her arms and her socks inside, her spare hand catching her skirts to lift them in a show of delicate ankles and bare feet as she steps only into the shallows of the water.
"My side is stiff and aches a bit sometimes but the Maester assured me if I exercise the muscles the scaring will stretch." Justin glances to her and puts out a hand to offer to carry her footwear that Roslyn's hands might be free then to keep her skirts mostly dry, "Nothing so bad as my brother's wound to his leg. That cut to the bone and across the muscle. Might have broken his leg as well, I don't know. It was years ago." The grey gelding is being so well behaved at the moment, quietly led and walking along with the other horse as easy as you please. Justin draws his horse up from the water, "We can ground tie them and leave our boots to walk a little." He stops and looks out at the water, "Did you learn to swim in the river, Lady Roslyn?"
Roslyn's gaze sketches over the length of shore they are at now, stepping away from the water without reliquishing her boots to instead set them carefully where there is no evidence that the tides have reached. "Let us do that, then, my lord. And perhaps once you've secured the horses… if I could see your scar?" she questions quietly, her smile somewhat wry as she voices it. "I know it would be forward, but only my guard and maid are here." She nods to the last question, simply. "My brothers taught me."
Justin takes the horse's reins and for his own horse he simply drops them. The grey stops and stands patiently, trained not to go wandering off when his reins are let go, though he would probably run if badly frightened. Her horse however he finds a stick to tie the reins to, then wedges that between larger stones. It could be pulled free if the horse paniced but will serve to tether it with his own horse near until they are wanted. He dusts off his hands and steps back to where Roslyn is then stops and gives her a funny look, "See it? Your brothers taught you what, Roslyn?" Justin watches her curiously but lets her see his arm. His doublet is as yet fastened and he assumes she didn't mean the one along his ribs. "Some of your brothers surely fought on the Iron isles."
"The one that aches," Roslyn corrects gently, very much meaning that one as she turns to watch him without moving forward on the voiced walk. "They taught me to swim, in the rivers that surround the Mire. Little enough of the Iron Isles, really."
Surely it's not appropriate to show her that scar, is it? Justin glances to her guard and maiden lingering over there with the horses of their own a little ways from them, then he looks back to her. He hesitates before he lifts his hands to unfasten the clasps to his doublet, "Do you … know something of healing or chiurgeonry then, my lady?" Justin watches Roslyn, his voice lowered. When his doublet is opened, he pulls up his shirt beneath to show her his side, trying to glance down at it himself. But he's far more interested in studying her, curious why she'd want to see the blemish.
The scar is yet purplish pink and not yet faded white with age. It cuts across his ribs in an slight arc about 9 or so inches, maybe more. Justin's ribs are leanly muscled, recessed slightly along the scar tissue but the bones of his ribs were cut or broken. A healer could feel the ridges of bone where they mended but it doesn't leave much visible disfigurement now, roughly six months later.
She makes no move to touch that bare skin, at least, only studying his chest and ribs for a brief moment before Roslyn admits, "I do not, my lord. It was only—a silly, fleeting thought that I wished to see it. To know what it would look like, if we were to marry." Her lips curve upwards in a flash of a self-deprecating smile at the desire.
It still seems odd to him. He watches her, then puts his shirt back down and smooths it before readjusting his doublet. Justin doesn't bother to fasten the clasps, watching how the wind tries to blow her auburn hair around. "If … " Justin twists his mouth and starts to take a few steps, then offers his arm if she wants it, "I'm not certain how I should be acting towards you. I mean, I feel like I /should/ be courting you and yet, I don't actually have that permission. I suppose you've been courted several times before. Given nice things. I'm sorry for your dissapointments, if they were dissapointments, Lady Roslyn."
That Roslyn shall take, her fingers curving in a light pressure against his forearm as she draws beside him. "Truthfully, my lord, nor am I. Though, I find it likely that if our fathers do agree to this match, there shall be no extended courtship for us," she muses quietly, her gaze lifted to him again under the sweep of her lashes. "I admit, each one was more frustrating than the last, Lord Justin, but none of them were true disappointments. Each betrothal was made on paper, without my ever meeting the man I was meant to marry before it fell through."
Justin thins his mouth, "I suppose it makes it easier for everyone involved. Unless you had married only to find it a poor match, a clash of personalities." He's quiet a few breathes, taking her back to the water's edge to walk barefooted in the surf. Aside from swimming, it's the best part of the beach to walk in the water. Justin stops and picks up a flattish stone, then quick as a flash, he flicks it out over the water - it skips over the incoming wave a few times then sinks with a tiny plop. Not an impressie stone skipping, only going three hops. He looks at her, then walks a bit further along slowly, "You know I'm drawn to you. I've been trying to figure out why. You aren't bad looking, though that isn't it. You seem .. quiet in a steady way, unruffled. Sometimes I do wonder if you are too quiet, too proper, Lady Roslyn. I would hope you aren't going to be boring and hide in doors only reading books." Justin curls his mouth to grin at her, "I hope there's some fire in there, somewhere. But you aren't flighty or frivolous. Everyone I know likes you and speaks well of you. Yet none of it touches on … something else I can't describe about you."
He adds low, "Sometimes I wish you'd laugh or be playful." But that's probably not appropriate for a lady either. Justin frowns faintly, thinking about other women who are those things.
"What would you have of me, Justin?" Roslyn murmurs low, the words not quiet playful but certainly not proper as her fingers bite slightly into the fabric of his sleeves even as she stops and turns towards him once again. "I do laugh, when I find things amusing. I am not without the ability to play. Yet, I am who I am, but I am invested in this match."
He stops when she stops to face him. "I .. almost regret coming home, except for a few things. Like meeting you. I'd like to make you laugh, see you really smile. There's not been much to smile about." Justin lifts a hand to skim some of her hair out of her face, "Could really use something cheerful around here. If you do come to live here, I hope you will come to love it and think of it as your home, Lady Roslyn. That you would wish to see it flurish as badly as I do." And he smiles a little, "And see you flurish and be happy also."
A smile finds her lips at that caring gesture, at his words, and if it is perhaps not a bright one, it is there as Roslyn agrees, "No, there has not been much, but perhaps if our fathers agree, there will be much and more to celebrate." She pauses, her fingers brushing in a light pattern against his forearm. "I would see us both find happiness, my lord."
Damn, he's been talking way too much. Too melancholy of mood, getting too little accomplished. Justin shifts his jaw and looks at the beach around them, then back to her, "Everything I feel like doing isn't appropriate. Splashing you with water, or chasing you up the beach. Swimming. Come watch the cliff diving tomorrow. I'll come if I'm able. It's a sport we learn here as children." Alas, he should probably be getting her back before her brother starts wondering where Roslyn's gotten off to. Reluctantly, Justin turns them around to start slowly back towards the horses.
"One day," Roslyn murmurs with a half-smile lingering at her lips, using the pressure of her fingers against his arm to lean forward to only brush a chaste kiss to his cheek. "I will come, I promise." She is willing enough to start back to the horses at his lead.
He smiles some, laying his free hand over Roslyn's own upon his arm. Hard not to think all the time about the many things he hasn't been able to fix. But the evening is pleasant with the tide going out, the rain holding off for their walking and riding. When they get back to the horses and get their boots on, Justin will help Roslyn to mount. "Thank you for coming. I'll endevor not to be such lousy company, in future, Lady Roslyn." Justin gets the reins of his own horse and moves to mount so that they may head back.