|Summary:||A discussion of gifts and pains.|
|Date:||25 May 2012|
|Related Logs:||Melee at the Twins and the Frey Courtship|
|The Tournament Grounds|
|Just outside Ser Kamron Mallister's tent.|
|May 25, 289|
Kamron is outside his tent, enduring the (mostly) friendly jeers of a few passers-by in order to bask in the sun for a little while. He's been settled down into a camp chair, his left arm tightly bound close against his stomach. The young knight's eyes are closed, although his squire putters around him, re-settling the tray holding cool juice at his right side, making adjustments to the chair itself, and otherwise being a bother. Thankfully, he's staying out of Kam's sun — he must have been yelled at a few times for that already.
With the tournament coming to a close, the weather has finally calmed. The sky above is a brilliant blue speckled with dense white clouds, and the sun shines bright as it arcs across heavens. Saffron Banefort has just recently parted ways with the tall, thin, pinch-faced Walden Frey at the crossroads and is tucking a silk-wrapped parcel into the sash about her waist. She picks up the hems of her thin wool dress as she steps over a puddle of mud that has yet to be filled. She spies Percy first and foremost as he fusses and moves about the sunbathing Kamron, and she already feels a light smile pulling at her lips. With the Mallister's eyes closed, she places a finger sternly at her lips to inform Percy to not say a word. Her attempt to sneak up on the Knight is immediately dashed away as Punbah and Timmen come bounding up behind her, and the former gives a jovial shout, "Oh-ho, Ser Kamron!"
Percival looks up at the approach of the Banefort, his eyes widening at her silent request. He looks between his knight and the lady, obviously torn, but is relieved of that responsibility when Punbah goes shouting away. The shout causes Kamron himself to start in his folding chair, his face immediately contorting into pain and his right hand coming up to his left shoulder, "Oh fuck me…" the words are a groan, but the fact that they come out at all suggests that he hasn't seen the approaching lady yet. Behind him, Percival desperately clears his throat, causing Kam to look up and snarl, "What?" The squire's eyebrows seem to point toward the oncoming party, and Kamron looks in their direction, sighing and grimacing as he settles back into the canvas-slung chair, "My apologies, Lady Saffron. That was… impolite."
The Banefort lady has thrown a scowling glance over her shoulder to Punbah, whose expression becomes open and innocent with high brows and a slightly pursed mouth; Timmen just rolls his eyes as dramatically as possible. Saffron continues her path to the knight, and she offers a simple smile at his apology. "You are in quite a bit of pain, Ser Kamron. I will forgive you." And then her smile dimples a bit, a little sparkle in those pale eyes. "Just this once." Then she looks over at Percival with a nod of her head. "Percy," she greets warmly. Then she looks back to Kamron, her expression turning thoughtful. "How is the shoulder?"
Kamron starts to rise a moment, evidently to bow, but without even thinking, Percival puts his hand on Kam's right shoulder and the knight stays where he is. The squire, on the other hand, bows a bit formally, although he doesn't offer verbal greetings. Those are for the less tongue-tied. Kamron slouches back in the chair, letting his eyes drift almost closed again, "It hurts rather more than it did right after the joust, actually. I think the adrenaline covered quite a bit of the pain then. And I'm feeling rather embarrassed as well. I cost my house a good amount of money in ransom, without unseating anyone, and my decision cost me a chance at that silver shield. I bet it would have built quite a few cottages at the Roost, and done for a few businesses in Seagard as well." Shaking his head slowly, he clears his throat, "I'm afraid I've quite let Lady Ghost down. But enough whining from me." His right arm gestures vaguely in the lady's direction, "Was that a new parcel I saw, Lady Saffron?"
Her warming expression cools a bit, and she instead if burdened with a look of concern. She steps closer to the knight, offering Percival an appreciative look as he keeps his mentor seated. "Percy, would you be so kind and fetch me a seat? I will look after him," she promises with a quick smile. Then she looks down to the knight; there is a twitch from her hand as if she would rest it on his good shoulder in comfort, but she manages to resist. Lady Ghost surely would comfort her knight, but Saffron Banefort cannot. Instead, she just smiles her best smile for him, and hopes it is enough. "You rode well at the joust, and you cannot be blamed for the state of your shoulder. I'm certain that Lady Ghost will see the merit of your efforts, and find you still worthy of her token." At the mention of the parcel, she releases a small sigh. "Yes. Another gift." And she slides the silk-wrapped thing from her waist once more, though it looks as though she has not opened it yet.
Percy bobs a nod at the request, ducking back into the tent. There's a crash and a clatter a moment later, and then the gawky squire comes back out with a folding camp chair (much more precarious than the sling-backed thing Kamron is sprawled in, but at least it's a stool-ish chair), as well as a cup. The cup is set down alongside the juice, and then the squire begins the trials and trevails of setting the chair-stool up. Kamron keeps one eye squinted shut in the bright blaze of the sun, prying open the other to look up at the smiling Lady. A faint grin touches one corner of his lips, "I was going to say that you've blocked my sun, Lady Saffron, but I find you've replaced it." He chuckles softly to himself, then hisses in pain, shaking his head, "You're not even going to see what it is?"
Saffron is very acutely aware of Percival's movements, and she artfully sidesteps out of any possible accidents that might occur. She looks down at the knight with a flash of dimples and a ladylike pinking at her cheeks, and she laughs softly. "Do not let the Sun hear you, ser, or I will be banished to the night as she did to the Moon." Once the poor squire is done situating her seat, she graces him with a polite smile and a nod of her head. "Thank you, Percy. You are always a wonderful help." Then she returns her attention to the knight. She looks back at the grey-wrapped trinket, and then back over to him. "I had considered waiting, but if you are interested, Ser Kamron…" She begins to unfold the wrap of navy-blue silk, letting it drape over her lap and offset her light cyan skirts.
Percy holds the camp stool carefully as Saffron seats herself, warily watching the collection of legs and straps. Once it seems like it won't fold up without warning, he carefully straightens up and moves over to pour her a cup of the juice, offering it out without a word. Kamron chuckles softly, "And here I always heard the Sun described as male, and the moon as female." Shaking off the words, he shrugs his right shoulder, although the gesture still draws a little wince out of him, "You certainly needn't open it now, Lady Saffron. Just curiosity on my part. I can't very well go out and look into the goings-on about camp very well, and so I was looking for a little distraction."
"Depends entirely on which story you are being told, and who is the storyteller," Saffron points out idly. "My mother always loved the story of Sister Sun and Sister Moon, both lovely but everyone loved the Moon more so in the Sun's rage, she banished her sister to the night." She has paused in unwrapping the gift to share this with the knight, though she soon resumes despite his words. Pulling open the navy silk reveals a oval broach of fine silver crafted to look like the Twins on their crest. It is heavy and elegant. She pulls the silk taut a bit so she can show it to Kamron. "Suitable enough distraction, Ser Kamron?"
Kamron 'huhs' softly at the storylette, "I'd like to hear that story sometime, Lady Saffron." He chuckles softly to himself, "Assuming there's more to it than that." He hauls himself a little more upright in his chair, hissing softly in pain as he leans over to look. Whistling softly, the Mallister slumps back down into his seat, "I bet you could brain someone with that thing. It says something about Lord Walden that he assumes you'd like a broach of the Twins, however, rather than a ship, or tree in the wind, or Sister Sun or Sister Moon."
Saffron smiles over to the knight as she picks up the broach from the silk, feeling its weight in her palm and against her fingers. "I'd like to tell it, Ser Kamron. There is quite more to it than just banishment." She guides a fingertip over the raised engraving of the two towers. "There has to be." Then she looks over to the Mallister then with a small laugh. "Now, that would be something worth comissioning… Sister Sun and Sister Moon." She looks back down at the Twins broach.
Kamron chuckles softly again as he watches the Banefort study the broach with one eye, his other still squeezed closed against the sun, "And what do -you- think of the thing, Lady Saffron? Are you well pleased by Lord Walden's gift?" Another chuckle shifts him, and one corner of his grin quirks up, "And who do you think picked it out?"
Clear blue eyes turn toward the knight now, and she meets his mono-gaze with ease. "I'm not pleased to be marrying Lord Walden," she says in an honest, soft voice. "It has, perhaps, clouded my perceptions on whatever gifts he may give." Then she shakes her head, placing that smile carefully once more on her lips. "His mother," she states in a matter-of-fact tone.
Kamron arches his eyebrows slightly, "Ah… but you're not marrying Lord Walden, Lady Saffron. Lord Walden is courting you. Should you or he not prove suitable… there's every possibility there will be no marriage?" Once more, he grimaces as he leans forward a bit, shading both eyes enough to open them fully, "Isn't that right?"
Saffron blinks over toward the Knight with a slight tilt of her own head, coppery brows half-raised. There is silence and care that comes before the woman carefully states, "Yes, it is." She settles into a thoughtful look, her gaze holding to his comfortably. "Perhaps he will learn that I'm not the wife he's looking for," she says quietly. "But then, what will I do with all the wonderful gifts he's given me?" And then, she smirks.
Kamron turns his right hand palm-up in a helpless gesture, "Of course, I've heard stories about the dedication of Lord Banefort and his Lady Wife, so perhaps you will have to ensure that neither side finds the other appropriate — or find a more tempting target for Lord Walden." There's a momentary bark of laughter, "Perhaps the good Lord could be found in the… company… of a noble lady of another House." He chuckles again, but Percival's eyes widen slightly, he blushes, and he is quick to add, "It's the milk of the poppy speaking, Lady Saffron. I swear!"
Saffron bursts out into warm, infectious laughter that draws light and color to her face. She shakes her head, looking away from the knight to his squire to memorize the young Ryger's expression. She is all smiles when she looks back to Kamron. "You, like so many knights, are incorrigible, Ser Kamron. Its a wonder what Lady Ghost sees in you." Then she gently wraps the broach back up in the silk, tucking it away once more. She begins to stand, and the stool is hardly a threat against the rising Banefort. "I should leave you to your poppy milk and rest, Ser Kamron. Perhaps if we ride back together, before we part ways, I will tell you about Sister Sun and Sister Moon."
Kamron nods his head slowly, although he does tilt over slightly to look up at Percival, "Is not. Okay… maybe a bit." That 'settled,' he looks back to Saffron as she rises, "I'd rise myself, Lady Saffron, but I've been told to 'keep my ass planted.'" He chuckles a bit softly as Percy slaps his forehead. Kam nods again, "And if we don't manage that, Lady Saffron, I'm sure I'll be through Stonebridge now and then due to patrols. Do enjoy the day…"