|A Very Brief Brotherly Interlude|
|Summary:||Justin wants to make nice at the same time Jarod decides to stop.|
|Related Logs:||Bumping Heads among others|
|Tourney Camp — The Twins|
|Tents and fires and stomping.|
|Wed May 23, 289|
Having been raised as a topic of recent conversation by Riordan, Justin has had his half brother upon his mind. As late afternoon draws closer to evening, Jerold's third trueborn son goes to seek his bastard brother. It brings him to the cluster of Nayland pavilions upon the tourney grounds. Dressed in a plain black doublet without obvious house colors, Justin nonetheless pauses too look around carefully before he goes poking his nose into tents. However, when he dosen't see Jarod right away, that's exactly what he starts to do. Luckily he finds a retainer or servant first, "Excuse me, do you know where I can find Ser Jarod?"
Jarod isn't in the Nayland section of camp, but he's not hard to find, and one of the men in that area could easily direct Justin. For his part, Ser Rivers is seated at a cookfire, swapping drinks and stories with men in a mix of livery. Largely men from inland River Houses, Pipers and Vances and the like, though he sits across from a beefy Mallister fellow as well. He wears no tabard or surcoat himself, just a green tunic and dark trousers. Though his swordbelt is tied with a new sash: green and orange, where he once wore purple-and-gold. He's drinking liberally from a wineskin that's being passed around and telling a story that involves a lot of curving hand-gestures, to the amusement of the other men.
Curving hand gestures and stories are usually pretty good ones, if you are male. Justin thanks the man who directs him and indeed it doesn't take long for him to find that fire and those jovial men gathered around his personable half sibling. As before, Justin wanders up quietly and joins the group to listen without drawing attention to himself. He might like to hear the story rather than interrupt.
"…and that is why every man should make at least one trip to Lannisport!" Jarod finishes triumphantly. Mostly to laughs, and a few disbelieving snorts. "You sure she didn't have a cock, Ser Rivers?" the Mallister fellow chortles. Jarod snorts, not sure whether to be amused or outraged. But he's had enough wine that he settles on amused. "She had tits! All my women do! Especially the one I wed, do not believe the rumors to the contrary!" He reaches across the fire to grasp the wineskin. And then spots Justin. Manner turning a little less merry. "Good eve, m'lord." It's polite, but not especially warm.
Alas, he missed the story. He usually does. Justin has a faint smile though as the others laugh and poke fun. When Jarod takes notice of himself and greets him, he gives a nod, "Seems a good evening, at least around your fire." Seems Jarod's always the center of attention in some group or another. Justin glances over them, "Don't mind me. I had thought to see how you were doing before I start back, but I've no mind to interrupt."
"Aye, it's getting on, though." Jarod takes a last swig from the skin, before passing it on, and standing. "Good Sers…you're all still assholes!" He proclaims it with a laugh. "Thanks for the drink, as always." To Justin, he shrugs. "No interruption, but I should be heading back to my tent, though. Fire's all yours." He makes to stride off, with that. Manner merry enough outwardly as he does it, but he is sort of fleeing. If not quietly.
Justin gives the other men a nod for parting, especially to the Mallister, though he doen't know that man specifically. He says a few words politely, then moves off in the same general direction as Jarod. It's a little hard to tell if Jarod was accepting his invitation to talk, or simply leaving. He's quiet until they have left the firelight and have walked a short distance before he says low, "I know what it is like, to feel alone, the outsider." Justin walks a few more steps before he stops and looks up at the evening sky, a few birds flying over and the banners of various houses around them fluttering lazily in the cooling air. It won't be long now before the stars start to come out and the world beyound the tourney grounds darkens. Keeping his voice down, Justin adds low, "I'm sorry for your cool reception at home. I hope, in time, you'll be welcome there again."
Jarod was just leaving, apparently. He blinks when Justin starts following him. He doesn't immediately try and pivot off-course to avoid him, but he also doesn't look at his brother during all that. "You owe me no apology, and I didn't ask for one, so you needn't feel obliged to give it. Is that all? I was rather hoping to avoid having someone look down their nose at me this eve, much as you're kind enough to remind me how much I deserve it."
The snideness stiffens his shoulders and stops any movement. Justin tightens his jaw and doesn't say anything for a breath or two. "I wasn't." He almost says something more clipped, but instead, he drops his tone, "Nevermind, Jarod. Have yourself a good night." Justin turns to start heading back, not to the fire but oof wherever it is he'll go.
Jarod pauses a moment. Perhaps feeling a touch of contrition for snapping. But he's not about to go chasing after his younger half-brother, and he continues on as well.