|Anger, Truces, and Kisses|
|Summary:||Saffron has some important information to impart on Kamron, and an important request.|
|Related Logs:||Loyal Dogs|
|Mallister Encampent, Seagard|
|Oh look, it's a purple tent, how not-out-of-place-at-all.|
|23 June, 289|
Kamron watches outside his tent while Percival Ryger pours over his armor for the seventh time that day, checking it for spots of rust and damaged links. The squire has the maile shirt spread out on a wool blanket, while Kamron himself is seated in one of his folding canvas chairs, with Bear tied up on a long leash to one leg. He holds a glass of cider (non-alcoholic) in his right hand, prepping for some binge drinking later in the evening. Like the joker he is, the knight leans forward, pointing over his squire's shoulder at a perfectly clean section of maile, "You missed a spot."
"Don't you listen to a thing your cruelhearted Knight tells you," the warm and dulcet tones of Saffron Banefort announce as she comes up behind the knight and squire. As if his compliments have spurred its appearance once more, she is dressed in the gown of wildfire silk. It definitely earns a few longing looks from some of the gents she passes, though most know she has been rightly claimed by the Mallister. She drops immediately into a ladylike squat as Bear comes bounding up to greet her with his happy barking. "Hello, my sweet Bear," she says as she rubs at his ears.
Percival looks up at Kamron's statement, looking absolutely crestfallen. He then turns to see — a perfectly polished stretch of maile. And then Saffron speaks up, and the squire looks up, promptly ducking his head and muttering a greeting. Kamron himself rises from his seat, loosing the little monster to go to his mistress. "Are you trying to undermine my authority with my squire, My Lady?" The question is accompanied by a laugh, and he shakes his head, moving over to stand over her and touch her shoulder with one hand. Looking down, he absolutely cannot help seeing down that plunging neckline, and he blinks and clears his throat, looking over to Percy's armor and shifting his stance a little, "I've complimented you on that dress, have I not? It's the one you made yourself, isn't it?"
Bear bounds up to her and promptly plops his butt right beside her. There is a definite statement here: This Is Mine. He lolls his tongue up at the woman, ears perking this way and that with each new noise. Saffron is all laughs and smiles as her husband-to-be offers her the umpteenth compliment on this particular dress, and she arches up on her toes to press a kiss to his cheek. "Thank you, My Lord. It is. I'm glad you like it." There is a small noise of laughter behind her, and there is Hara. The woman curtsies to the knight and squire before she steps aside to look over Percy's shoulder at the maile. "Have no fear, Squire Percy… you shined it all quite well. Take pride in that." Saffron looks after her maid a moment before she looks back up toward Kamron, though her smile has gained a slightly brittle edge. "Ser, we need to talk."
Kamron bows his head and then tilts it to accept the kiss on the cheek with a grin. Percival blinks owlishly up at the maid, bowing his head then, "Thank you M-Mistress. Now I just have t-to not get my head bashed in." And then he's back to shining the maile. Behind him, Kamron arches his eyes at the change in the smile and the words that accompany it, bowing his head once more, "Why do I have the feeling that I'm not going to enjoy this?" There's a tiny little smile there, but he gestures toward the tent and then moves to guide her inside with a hand at her back.
Hara smiles down toward the young squire. "Remember what your Lord says… do not think much." The prettily plain woman bows her head gently to Saffron as she steps into the tent with a flourish of green skirts. She takes a few moments to get her bearings in the familiar space, and soon she slides into one of the seats before she gestures for him to sit. "Some of it, perhaps not," she says with a ghost of a smile before she bows her head a bit. "But some of it I should have told you the night Annie shared it with me. You just seem to always distract my brain before logical things can escape my lips." She smiles to him with a slight quirk of her lips. "Which is why I'm having you sit there, where the table is between is."
Kamron follows his lady into the tent, raising an eyebrow slightly at her selection and suggestion of seats, but taking the one across the table without further question. Her words draw his brows up, and then down again, "Is your Lady Cousin alright then, My Lady?" Concern slips across his features, and he starts to lean forward against the edge of the table. Then he realizes that this is putting him distinctly closer to the lady, and he shrugs helplessly, leaning backward again.
"At a glance, she is perfectly well, Kamron," Saffron says with a slight exhale. "But it will take a keener eye and open ears to detect what is wrong." She pulls her fingers through her cinnamon-red hair, letting her thoughts simmer for a moment. It is as if she is trying to find her words despite having rehearsed them so many times over. "The day you gifted Bear, I went to see her at the waterfront. I was letting her vent about the state of the Roost. I'm afraid I cannot in good conscience trust the Roost's maester." She reaches for the carafe of water that has been placed on the table, and pours herself a cup. She wishes it were wine.
Kamron shakes his head slightly, "Besides not being appreciated and having to deal with Lady Lucienne." And then he quiets and lets Saffron settle into her words, taking his own sip of water. Those words, however, draw him up in surprise, a frown creasing his features, "Maester… Pyrs, is it?" Rolling his cup between his hands, his frown deepens, "What has he done to have gained your cousin's distrust and your own, My Lady?"
"He has suggested that my cousin drink a draft that will make her seem with child, and then have my goodcousin beat her in order to feign a miscarriage." There is a cold rage that settles into her bones once more, and she grips her hands around that cup as her only outlet. "I hope that is cause enough to distrust a man who is suppose to be sworn to do what is right for his house." She settles into quiet now, staring hard at her betrothed as if to see what he will say. Her lips tighten, and there is an angry flame in her pale eyes.
Kamron frowns at the first part of the news, but then starts straight out of his chair at the second, knocking it over as he does, "WHAT?" Yes, let's prove that the Mallister's anger burns just as bright as that of the Banefort. "That ball-less, dust-brained, cretinous fuck." The snarl comes out before he realizes who is also there, and immediately he flushes with embarrassment, "My apologies, My Lady. That was ill-spoken, but no so ill-spoken as that stillbirth of an idea that the Maester had."
There is a slight startlement at the reaction that rocks her husband-to-be's frame and chair — though, she remains seated. Saffron looks up into his eyes as he turns to face her with that flush of embarrassment. "Kamron, if I'm to be your wife, you needn't apologize for speaking honest words. I'm your wife first, a Lady second." The woman breathes out an exhale. "I have suggested to Anais that she write for a new maester — but what good will it do? After Lord Jerold's reaction to her public accusasion against Lucienne — stupid, as it was to not have an ounce of evidence — they will see any complaint she raises against the household as a falsehood." Saffron takes a drink of her water, but still it does nothing to cool the burning in her gut.
Kamron's lips twist at Saffron's words, but he nods, "I should still not speak so, even in front of my wife." A faint touch of a smile touches his lips, even though anger still burns in his blue-gray eyes, "I could have found less caustic words to express my…" His lips press together, and then he finishes, "rage." His breath still comes quick, his hands clenching tightly and releasing. Percy peeks into the tent, then ducks out again quickly. The knight, however, looks back to his chair, setting it back up and then dropping into it. "Then we will have to go to my cousin or Mistress Dorsey for any medical complaints we have. It troubles me that a man who would suggest such a stupid course of action is still trusted to advise Lord Terrick, though."
"I'm not even sure how much of this has been shared beyond my own ears and Jacsen's, Anais suggests that perhaps Jacsen will handle it once we return to the Roost," Saffron says softly to her betrothed, and she reaches out to gently brush her fingertips across his knuckles. Then she settles back into her own seat, looking up briefly at Percy's cautious peek and then back toward the knight again. There is a long and quiet moment from the redhaired Banefort, and she shakes her head a bit. "I will not have a man be responsible for our own child's arrival into this world, I can promise you that."
Kamron clenches his hand around one of the arms of his chair again, even as she brushes a finger across it, "If we were back at The Roost, I would throw him into the sea." Oh yes, that anger is still there. "Mistress Dorsey is a skilled midwife." And that idea starts to melt at his anger a little, and a smile even touches his lips, "Our child? Isn't that a little premature? There are a few things that still need doing." He even manages to blush just a little there, lifting up his cup and drinking from it to cover the expression a little.
It is then that Saffron gains a sudden flush of color, and she looks aside a bit into her cup of water. "Well, there will be children, will there not?" It is a quiet question asked in the aftermath of rage. "Or will you want me to take up moon tea after we are wed?" And there is an abrupt seed of worry and perhaps self-consciousness that settles into her belly, turning that rage into a touch of nausea. "I mean, that is if you wish me to share your bed after the wedding night. I'm sorry if I was presumptuous."
Kamron blinks in surprise at the questions, "Gods yes… at least I hope so." And then he blinks again, because there are more questions, "No… no…" and then "Yes… of course." Well, the man's good and flustered now. Clearing his throat, he takes another swallow of his water, and starts over, "I would hope that we will have a child, or children." A tiny quirk of a smile touches his lips, although he smothers it in his cup again quickly, "And you are very desirable, Lady Saffron."
Saffron's expression keeps changing with each of his stumbling, flustered words. She eventually settles into a slightly apologetic smile. "So, you won't wish me to take up moon tea and you do wish me to share your bed." She of course flushes a bit at his words, and she coyly lifts her eyes toward him with a small smile curving her lips. "You are quite desirable, too, Kamron," she says in a hush as if afraid someone will hear. "Can I confess something to you, as my betrothed?"
Kamron nods his agreement with her understanding of his stumbling words, although the comment that follows draws a laugh to his lips, a bit more of a grin spreading across his face, "The way I see it, so long as it's no grand betrayal of the King or my house, my loyalty is entirely to you, My Lady." There's teasing laughter behind those words, and his grin spreads broader up one side of his face. Leaning forward, he rests his forearms on the little table, turning his head slightly to hear whatever this great secret is.
"I hope you will not think poorly of me," Saffron begins with a quiet voice, her head slightly bowed and a flush on cheeks. "I wished we had been married already, for damn your aches and bruises, I would have slipped between your sheets after the melee and showed you how proud I was of how you fought, and how it excited me to see you out there." She is now about as red as her hair as she confesses this, and she finds herself complete loss with why she even had to share.
Sure, make the poor guy choke on his water. Kamron laughs a little ruefully at that, scraping his left hand back through his hair, "I suppose once we're married, I'll have to win a few more melees." Shaking his head slowly, he leans back in his chair again — and then promptly has to shift in his seat and drop one hand to adjust the fall of his pants a little, as they seem to have gotten a bit small. "You realize that that image is going to make the length of this betrothal rather difficult, don't you, My Lady?"
As if Saffron could turn any redder, she blushes once more. "I'm sorry, My Lord… I thought my duty to you was to always be honest." Though it is hard to hide the slight glance she affords him as he readjusts. A small and wishful smile pulls at her lips before she looks back down into her water cup. "I will refrain from sharing such thoughts with you if you do not feel you can handle them until there is nothing to hold you back." Then she looks up to meet his grey eyes, and she offers him an apologetic smile.
Kamron waves off the apology right away without delay, "No… no. I wasn't trying to make you embarrassed, Lady Saffron." He smiles just a little, "It's… comforting… to know that the attraction here does not run just one way." Clearing his throat a little, he quickly changes the topic, "So do the ladies have any plans for what to do tonight while the knights and lords are out following Jarod through the common rooms." Apparently, she chose the right order to impart her various bits of information, as his anger has been drawn off nicely now.
Saffron laughs softly, almost shyly. "Then I'm glad that I said something." Then at the mention of the night of manly debauchery, she casts him a small grin that draws out her dimples. "I imagine we will not be having tea. Perhaps I will go out for an evening ride. Now that Shy Girl" That would be her chestnut palfrey. "is feeling more like herself, I can indulge in such." She does give him a meaningful look. "I will take Hara and some Mallister men with me just to be sure… but I wouldn't mind some time away from the madness of this place." However, there is a moment's pause before she continues on with a cautious tone. "About tonight… if Ser Kittridge is there…"
Kamron laughs softly at the dimpled grin, confirming "I would appreciate it if you did bring a couple of guards indeed, My Lady." Leaning forward in his chair a bit again, he reaches out to rest one of his hands over hers. Her own shift of topic, however, causes him to shift a little less comfortably, but he nods slightly, "If Ser Kittridge is there, I'll be perfectly courteous. I think I'm beyond wanting to punch him in the throat by now."
At the touch of his hand to hers, Saffron smiles up at him with a warmth in her expression. She does try to keep a serious expression on her face as she speaks to her betrothed. "Its more than being courteous, Kamron. I spoke with him today, he can see a grudge building between you two, and I would ask that it not come to pass. My heart adores you, Kamron… but I wish that you would try to help bring peace to the cape. As I told Ser Kittridge, let the disquiet and scandal fall on Stonebridge's shoulders." She reaches up to touch his cheek. "Please, try to make peace with the Groveses. If there is to be an alliance between their house and my cousin's, I would see that we don't quarrel."
Kamron shrugs his shoulders, apparently more than a little uncomfortable, "The Groves forced the Terricks to humble themselves and offer land for their food, and then didn't even take the offer." There's a grumble in his voice, and a low anger, "They've done wrong by the Cape since they answered the call of the Mad King, My Lady." He looks down at where his hand lies over hers, letting some of that anger drain from his voice, "I've tried to let it go since then. And then this." His left hand gestures helplessly, "I've been careful to avoid him where I can, and to try not to offer offense at any time."
Saffron frowns, and she slips from her own seat with a small glance toward the tent flap. She touches his cheek softly before she begins to slide down onto his knee, drawing his face up closer to hers. It is an innocent gesture, surely, just a way to bring them closer, to keep her whispers from going far. "I know… I know," she murmurs softly as she bows her head to his words. "You have tried, for certain, but he knows its there." Saffron sighs as she slips an arm across his shoulders, drawing her forehead to rest against his temple. "Please, Kamron… I just want there to be some peace for a time. I want to be able to invite the whole Cape to our wedding, and the Groveses are sworn to your House. I just ask that you find a way to make peace with Kittridge."
Kamron can't help but glances up at the tent flap himself as Saffron slips onto his knee, his hand coming up to her back to brace her balance. "He's an amusing man, although sometimes I think he might be a snake in pretty japes and jibes." He shakes his head slowly so as to not dislodge her brow from his, "I'll try, My Lady." And then he does tip his head back from hers, to raise his lips up and press a light kiss where his brow had just leaned, "Because you asked it."
Saffron begins to smile in a warm but gentle fashion to her betrothed. "Thank you," she murmurs with a happy note to him. "If he proves himself a snake, then be a mongoose. But wait until he shows his scales." She closes her eyes softly to his kiss, though a small and mischeveious grin begins to sneak in over her innocent smile. "Will you do anything if I ask it of you?" She asks, coyly.
Kamron shrugs slightly, that characteristic crooked grin slipping back into place, "If he proves himself a snake, I'll be an eagle… it comes more naturally. I'll find some high place and drop him off." All in good fun, apparently. That question sets off warning bells even in the young knight's head, and he laughs softly, narrowing his eyes dramatically, "Oh, and what is it that you might be asking of me, Lady Saffron?"
Saffron laughs brightly at the idea of the eagle and the snake, and she shakes her head. "I hope to do the eagles proud," she murmurs happily before she shakes her head, giving him a soft look from her poise on his knee. She glances precariously toward the tent flap where Hara is helping Percy prepare the rest of his armor with another good polishing. She looks back to him with a small fire in those pale blue eyes. "You should kiss your betrothed. I ask it of you."
Kamron reaches up with his free hand to brush down the side of her face, "I'm sure you will, My Lady." Her request draws a warming laugh, and his hand slips down to cup her cheek, "As you wish, Saffron." The name is whispered against her lips as he closes the remaining distance, a kiss that starts out slow and languid, only to tighten and sharpen as his right hand at her back draws her into it and he rises to meet it, a soft sound rising in his throat.
It is remarkable how the sound of her name without the honorific and whispered from this lips causes such an excited quiver up her spine. A small tremble starts through her jaw, carrying into her lips with the softest shudder. She slips along his knee until she is pressing against her knight, her arms twisted about his shoulders so one hand can play with the short-kept hair on the back of his head. She engages in that kiss with a touch of heat, and a greater touch of affection. There is a faint touch of her tongue to his lip, but it is a shy gesture — a new gesture.
Kamron does not retreat from that kiss, but neither does he charge headlong down the throat of it, so to speak. His lips part just a little, but his own tongue does not tangle with hers. The restraint costs him, however, as he groans softly against her lips. When he finally lets the kiss starts to trail away, his lips tugging lightly on her lower lip, leaving a soft little smile on his own lips. "Mmmm… I did like that."
His groan inspires the smallest roll of her hips, but it is a hypnotically unconscious gestures. Then she releases a small sigh against his lips as he pulls from the kiss, and she finds herself unsteady in his lap. Her fingers continue to twang at the hair on the back of his neck before she begins to straighten up, her blue-flame eyes stoked by the warmth of the kiss. Then she releases a soft laugh. "Yes, that was nice." And she shifts about a bit uncomfortably on his leg. "I should move now, shouldn't?"
Kamron clenches his hand at her back just a little at the roll of her hips, and he suddenly has to draw back a little bit further, clearing his throat once more. "I hate to say it, My Lady. But yes… yes you should." And his cheeks flush again. "Because you are sending the most delicious shivers up and down my spine, and making me think of thoughts that I shouldn't think for several months yet."
There is a right flush that builds up her cheeks, and Saffron inclines her head as she carefully slips from his knee. She is a bit unsteady on her feet, though she seems to take a moment to breathe and settle more comfortably into her stance once more. When she looks back around to him, her cheeks are still pink and her smile still shy, but she does not quite look like she will be testing his will once more. "Thank you for the kiss, Ser Kamron. I will take them whenever I can."
Kamron shifts as if he might stand as well, but instead shifts in his seat and scratches behind his ear, looking down as he does. "I always seek to please My Lady Betrothed." He reaches out for his cup of water, taking a slug and noting a little idly, "You look about like I will later tonight." And he shrugs helplessly, "Not that I would care to try to stand straight at the moment myself either."
Saffron laughs softly with a touch of embarrassment at her betrothed. "I did not mean to cause such discomfort, My Lord," she murmurs softly before she drops her gaze in a bit of shyness. She sweeps forward a few steps again, and this time presses a kiss softly to his head, fingertips carressing over his hair once more. "Will you forgive me?" She looks down into his grey eyes with a small smile tilted on her lips.
Kamron shrugs again at the laugh, shaking his head in amusement, "No permanent harm, My Lady." He tilts his head forward to receive the kiss, his free hand touching her hand as it rises with just a little brush. A soft smile graces his lips as he looks up at the curvaceous Banefort, "I'll forgive you most anything, Lady Saffron." A touch of laughter leaves his lips then, soft and low, "So long as you will forgive me as well when it is necessary."
"I should spare us both, and let you prepare yourself for your night with the boys," Saffron murmurs into his hair, taking in his scent without shame. She steps back then, her smile soft and dimpled. "If you find yourself wandering drunk and alone tonight, my sweet knight, I will keep you company with a story or two and then put you to bed." She stalls just enough before adding. "Alone, of course." Then she begins to step back, beginning to turn away from him with a grace of wildfire skirts.
Now he can rise again, standing as she excuses herself. "I cannot promise I won't stop by your tent to serenade you on my way back, My Lady." Kamron's crooked grin is in full force now, "Nor can I promise you that I can carry a tune while drunk." Her pause-laden tease draws a laugh from him, and he nods, reaching out to stop her with fingertips on her arm, just long enough to press a kiss to her cheek, "Enjoy your own evening, Lady Saffron."
A soft, warm-hearted laugh is given to her dashing Silver Eagle before she presses a kiss to his cheek in turn. "I hope you do, Ser Kamron." There is a glimmer in her pale eyes before she turns away with a soft smile redoubling on her lips. Unless stopped for yet another kiss, she will set out to gather up Hara to head back to the Banefort tent. The two are immediately whispering girlishly to one another, and Saffron is looking back to her betrothed's tent with warmth in her eyes.