|Summary:||Freya and Mortimer have a brief conversation during the search.|
|Related Logs:||Missing children saga|
|Woods around the Terrick/Ashwood border|
|Trees, and mud, and rain. Lots of rain.|
|Mon Dec 10, 289|
The rain has been persistent all day, but by mid-afternoon it's become a torrential downpour and there's a definite feeling amongst the search party that there's nothing more that can be done for the day. Well, some of the search party anyway, but it's a large enough majority that those in favour of continuing are drowned out. The ride back to the Roost is about halfway complete and conversation is about as commonplace as a sight of King Robert himself. Cloaks are wrapped tightly against the wind and driving rain and hoods are up, although it seems that not even that is stopping the water from seeping through clothes and into boots.
Dismal though the day might be but Freya Caul has an elevated mood. They are no worse off at least even though time may or may not be running out for the children - Freya suspects their luck might be about to turn. One can't sink further than the bottom of the ocean after all. She pushes Paul so that she is riding next to the Deputy Sheriff. The only person that she can see that she knows is him and so she aims for conversation. She is in the enviable position of having a waxed oiled cowl to cover herself in so might be amongst the driest of the search party. "Well this is going to be bloody murder on trying to find some prints wouldn't you say Master Trevelyan?" Thinking further she says, "On the other hand it is going to soften up the ground so finding new tracks will become a lot easier - assuming our adversary is not using the trees."
Mortimer has been feeling generally less and less optomistic as the mounted searches have continued. What he wants to be doing is something useful, like the previous weeks of effort yet he's stuck herding nobles around and trying to ensure they don't obliterate any evidence that might be found. He's cold, wet and becoming generally frustrated with the lack of progress, particualrly the decision to turn back when there are still daylight hours left. As such he'd kept entirely to himself at the head of the group and hadn't actually notice Freya's approach until she started to speak. "Hm?" he grunts as he turns his head slightly to see who it is that is now alongside, an action which in itself lets more rain get inside his hood. It would be fair to say that he's not feeling overly conversation, but does at least recognise the opportunity for a break from the imposed silence. "We'll hopefully find something fresh once it stops Mistress, aye," he manages. It's not great, but he needs a bit of time to warm up it seems.
Freya looks at the Deputy Sheriff closely, "You need something better than that cloak there Master - here - I have a spare cowl that I bought off some sailors. It's old but that is what made it cheap - specially made to keep the water off you out at sea." Freya thought ahead - but a measure of cunning if not intelligence marked all the Cauls actions - especially the last one left alive. She hands the folded item to Mortimer waiting for him to accept. "It's a bit left field I know but Master Trevelyan you have been a retainer for longer than I have. Do you mind if I ask you for some advice?"
Mortimer shakes his head slightly at the offer, although it might not be the easiest of gestures to spot given the conditions. "Too late for it to do any good," he answers with a faintly resigned tone, feeling the moisture seeping slowly into his boot as he does so. When he dismounts, he'll probably even squelch a little as he walks. The request for advice has him curious though and he eyes Freya for a moment before giving a brief nod, "ask what you will."
"I am being courted by a sworn sword - a reasonably famous knight from another house. I have risen pretty fast in House Haigh - got lots of responsability early on. I like the guy - I'm not sure that it is the best thing for me to be involved with him though. A possible conflict of interest as the maesters might say?" She coughs, "do you think that it is possible for people who are retainers to marry across houses like that?" Looking at the ground, "I'm not even sure I am the marrying kind."
Whatever it was that Mortimer had been expecting, relationship advice was not it. He's stumped, briefly, and it takes him a moment or two for his brain to assure itself that yes, that is what has been asked, at which point he manages an ever informative, "errm." Then he takes a few moments to think it over, it's not an exact situation he's familiar with, but there are a few others he can draw parallels from and so he concludes thusly. "I might depend on the Houses concerned, but I'd think that one of you would have to switch, were it to become serious enough to be thinking of a union. Otherwise there'd always be questions over allegiance and loyalties. Your's and his."
Freya nods, "Aye that's what I was afraid of. And he is a sworn sword. If I get put out to pasture taking care of the kids I figure the person who would have to make the switch would be me…" Freya looks thoughtful. "But that particular bridge can be crossed when we come to it I suppose."
“Aye, no point in rushing,” Mortimer agrees with a slight nod, although he makes no comment on who would have to move. She’s probably right, but without knowing the lad, his house, or the nature of her oath to the Haighs he can not be completely sure. A subtle change in wind direction has him adjusting the wrap of his cloak briefly before he glances forward to the road ahead once more. “It’ll not be long now, then we can get their Lordships safely ensconced in front of a fire.”
"Seems everything is happening at once for me…" Freya remarks. "When I'm not scouting out here I am worrying about the future. Have you felt that way?" Freya did make a few positive steps and has seemingly fallen arse backwards into a lot of success. "Imagine me married and respectable…" she says smiling. "Alright well - just imagine me married," she downgrades her ambition.
Mortimer has to clarify that question as he's not entirely sure which bit Freya was enquiring about. "Have I ever worried about the future, or does it sometimes seem that everything is happening to me at once?" The answer to both is the same, a solid 'yes', but he asks anyway. Then she's given a faint shrug, "You have the chance to make yourself respectable, just need to play it careful." Fresh start and all that.
"Might be hard," Freya says. "I may be saying too much but I swing both ways - have alot of filthy habits that don't involve thievery. I think Master Nathaniel told you about when he found me out the back of the Leatherworkers no? Said I'd been enjoying someone. Actually it was two someones at the same time. Man and woman - did it because I hadn't done it before." She coughs, "Can't do anything like that anymore it seems."
"He didn't," Mortimer replies briefly, wondering just what triggered this sudden outpouring of information he didn't need. "As I said, depends how you play it and if you want it." Respectability that is. Tugging at his hood a moment, to remove a slowly forming pool of water, he tries to think of something else to add but only manages a faint shrug.