Page 087: Banefort Water Sport
Banefort Water Sport
Summary: Lucienne and Gwyn relax on the beach, and Anais plays some random game in the water with the retainers while they wait for sight of the Banefort warship. Jacsen pops by.
Date: 10/October/288
Related Logs: I'm not even sure. Other logs with these people, I suppose.
Anais Lucienne Gwyn Jacsen 
Cove/Beach, Terrick's Roost
The coastline. Beach. Grass. People waiting for warships.
10th October, 288

It's a fine and beautiful day in Terrick's Roost, after a rainy evening that's left the air fresh and clean. If it can stay until the wedding, it will be beautiful. With word having reached the keep on raven wings that Lord Banefort has left the Banefort along with the warship that's part of her dowry, Anais has made a habit of making her way to the beach at least once each day, hoping to catch sight of the arriving ships. As usual, there's a retinue of guards and ladies in waiting attending her, though they all seem to be in high spirits at the moment, simple linen shifts all hanging in the water as they chase each other through the shallows in some sort of game that involves kicking an inflated bladder over the waves. Anais is rather thoroughly soaked, but her cheeks are flushed and she laughs as she kicks the ball - and a sizable wave - toward one of the maids.

Though the girls of the Banefort might enjoy such vigorous pursuits as kicking balls around in the water, trueborn Terrick Lucienne is content to sit back from the shore, her skirts damp from an earlier exploration spread out wide to dry in the sunshine. She shares an amused chuckle as Anais kicks up that spray of water, pitching one hand behind her to lean upon as she watches the now-sopping maid miss the catch and wobble through the waves to retrieve the ball.

Looking flushed and happy on the beach, Gwyn remains dry for the moment. Sitting on a folding chair amongst the sand, she's fiddling with a small lute. Plucking a few strings and then strumming, she hums a few bars and then readjusts the tuning. It sounds like she's either trying to write a song or remember one. With another few strums, she finds a progression she approves of. Some of Anais' maids and ladies are there to help attend to her younger sister, but they seem happier to play about in the waves. She'll stay dry with Lucienne. "Which do you think, Lucienne? The first or the second?" She's talking about the chords now.

"Nina, quick!" Anais laughs to the small, dark maid who most often attends her, just as the pair run to chase a circle around one of the guards in the water. The poor red-headed fellow - Kincaid, for those who'll remember his name - shortly finds himself /sitting/ in the water as he tries to turn with the girls and trips over a skirt and a wave. There's more laughter from the little group, and Nina and Anais each take a hand to pull the guard back to his feet. Gallantly, he does not return their earlier favor by dunking them.

"Watch out, Kin —" Lucienne's call is too late, and she dissolves into a more merry giggle. "Play fair, Annie, that wasn't fair!" She turns her head, then, to face Gwynnie and her instrument, and requests, "Play them again? I think the first, but I'm not certain."

Poor Kincaid. Gwyn certainly remembers his name. She followed him around before for a few days. "Leave poor Kinnie alone," Gwyn calls out herself. With a bright smile to the red-headed guard - redheads should stick together, shouldn't they? - she tilts her head just slightly to the side before focusing her eyes back onto the lute. "Of course, Luci." Again, she plays the chords for approval. "One ends in a more minor chord. It's sadder, which I think works because the party is about to find the that the princess isn't there."

"It's absolutely fair!" Anais calls back to Lucienne and Gwyn with a laugh, smile flashing bright across her features. "He's from home, he knew what he was in f-" Whatever she was going to say is interrupted by a sharp squeak as Kincaid secures his revenge, sending a splash of cool seawater down her back. Before she can retaliate, though, a maid is back with the ball, and the game is in play once more. There are probably rules of some sort or another, but to anyone not from the Banefort it likely looks like nothing more than chaos, guards and ladies splashing through the shallows after the ball.

Lucienne's gaze flicks back out to the ball-players as Anais squeaks, and she lifts a hand diplomatically to cover her smirk. She listens, if slightly distracted, to the two different chord progressions over again, her eyes tracing an absent path back to Gwyn's lute as she contemplates them. "How about a minor seventh? Which isn't so far from that last one, it might lead better into your next verse?"

"You know very well that it's not!" Being a Banefort, Gwyn has an inside track as to what this game might actually be. "It must be done over your left shoulder!" If that's actually a rule or one she's simply making up may also be up for debate. "Oh, nevermind," she sighs. Gwyn puts the instrument down, realizing that Lucienne has her attention elsewhere. "Though you may be right about the minor seventh."

There's another round of splashing and kicking, more laughter all around, plenty of shrieks from the maids and shouts from the guards, before Anais finally comes wading out of the water, her skirts pulled halfway up her calves as she tries to wring some of the excess water out of them. Her smile is bright, and she looks more relaxed than she has in /weeks/ at this point, breathless as she drops down onto the blankets with Lucienne and Gwyneth. "You should try it, Luci," she giggles, reaching up to push fair hair away from her features, curls gone flyaway between the humidity and the activity. "I expect I'll sleep like a babe tonight."

"Sorry, Gwynnie," murmurs Lucienne apologetically; she really is more interested in trying to figure out the rules of this game, if there are any at all. Her eyes follow the ball around a few more kicks, and she curves a smile back to Anais as she makes her way up the beach to join them. "Not a chance," she says firmly, shaking her head for emphasis as she plucks at her drying skirts with idle fingers. "I'd not get two steps in before tripping over. It's much nicer to sit back and watch, if you ask me."

Where the wonderful collection of Banefort and Terrick ladies play and linger by the water beneath the sun, another small party makes its way down the sand and towards them. An armed, sworn sword of House Terrick, and a retainer of the same, ride alongside the familiar figure of Jacsen Terrick, tall upon his grey and brown equine. As usual, his lame leg is lashed to the saddle in a somewhat strange contraption of leather, and his cane rests in a holder on the right. The pace they trot slows as they get nearer to the party, before Jacsen signals and they hold up entirely. "Good afternoon, ladies… I trust you don't mind if I intrude upon your little get together?"

"it's fine," Gwyn sighs again. It's possible she's attempting to be pouty to get some attention. However, she moves out of range of Anais' dripping and swoops up the lute to keep it safe. "Annie!" she squeaks. The arrival of Jacsen is met with a shake of the head. "Perhaps you could help Lucienne get into the water to play our Banefort water sport." It even rhymes!

"The tripping is half the fun," Anais assures Lucienne with a broad grin, leaning back to dig a skin from one of the baskets they've brought along. There's definitely dripping on Gwyn when she reaches, too. She's caught taking a long drink as Jacsen and his escort arrive, quickly wiping her mouth with the back of one hand as she looks up to him. "I don't mind in the least," she assures. "We were just escaping the whole wedding thing for a bit. A raven came from home, and Father's apparently on his way, so I was hoping I might catch a glimpse of them as they were arriving."

"I'm not convinced," Lucienne insists, shifting her damp dress in closer to her legs to make a bit more room. Coincidentally, it's just as Jacsen and his party arrive, and his sister twists a look up and over her shoulder to smile brightly as she pats the spot on the blanket beside her. "Jace! Come sit with us. Have you seen this game they play? Annie's going to explain the rules to me."

"Banefort water sport?" Jacsen asks, dubious but with some humor, his brow rising archly as he considers first Gwyn, then the quite damp Anais, and finally his dear Lucienne. She earns the widest smile of the three, but his mood does seem pleasant. "I had not heard Lord Banefort sent word, but this is good news. Lord Mallister has written to me, and looks forward to attending Terrick's Roost shortly," he informs Anais, crisply. He leans to his side and begins to unfasten the ties about his right leg, and then slowly eases himself from the saddle and onto the sand. "That all said, how are you all doing?"

Brushing off the stray drops of water from the soaked Anais, Gwyn finally stands. Annoyed, she steps away from the Banefort guards and maids who are all just as wet as her older sister. "There really aren't rules to speak of. Or, really, they are so complicated they don't matter." Glancing out at the horizon when they mention her father, she nods. With a smile, she indicates the lute that she's cradling and attempting to keep as dry as possible. "I've been working on a song."

"Rules is sort of a…Well, there aren't /exactly/ rules," Anais giggles when Lucienne talks about teaching them to her. "Mostly it's about passing the ball around, trying not to fall yourself, and trying to trip someone else. Particularly if they're someone you're fond of and wouldn't mind seeing sopping wet. Gwyn's usually great at it," she beams innocently at her younger sister. The teasing falls away quickly enough at the mention of a song, though, pale brows rising. "I didn't know you started composing, Gwyn. That's wonderful."

"Lord Jason's coming?" Lucienne is clearly pleased to hear, her smile remaining cheerful. "Did he say who'd be attending with him?" The explanation of the… rules? of Banefort water sport earns both Gwyn and Anais a puzzled crease of her brows, and Luci says, "No wonder it looks so chaotic, then. Gwynnie, play what you've got for Jacsen, and try that minor seventh? She's really very talented, Jace."

The Terrick lord takes a moment to unfasten his cane from the saddle, and once he has it he favors Gwyn with his blue eyes, themselves fair companions to the clear skies of this summer afternoon. "If you would be willing, Lady Gwyn, I would be quite pleased to hear something you yourself composed," Jacsen offers graciously. Lucienne's question gets a reply in the form of a slight shake of his head.

Gwyn awards Anais with a face at telling the others that she's normally great at the game. However, that may be true because she will simply pretend like whatever she does is within the rules. That seems to be the best way to play the game to begin with. "Yes, actually, I just started." And with a tilt upward of her chin, she's clearly proud of it. Especially since the attention is on her ability to play said lute well. "It's not finished!" she protests. "Is it bad luck to play an unfinished song for an audience?"

"Not that I've heard," Anais grins at Gwyneth. "Every singer, composer, and musician I've ever known was more than eager to play even the first notes of whatever they were working on. It's all meant to be shared, after all." She shifts to sit cross-legged then, carefully spreading her skirts out to dry so that they won't wrinkle too terribly.

Lucienne is briefly disappointed by that shake of Jacsen's head, but she doesn't dwell on it long. "Go on, Gwyn," she encourages the younger girl with a smile. "Anais is right, it's not bad luck, and we'd all love to hear it."

"I agree with the lot of them, go on and let us have a sample of your work," Jacsen encourages, reaching out a hand to Lucienne as he nears so that she might help him lower down to join her and Anais. "And what of this game, Anais? Did you win? By whatever strange rules you seem to measure it?" He chuckles.

Pleased as punch, Gwyn settles back into her chair and starts to fiddle with the lute to make sure it's still in tune. "Well. If you say so. Now, it really isn't finished yet. I've just been working on it and Lucienne just gave me the good idea of the minor seventh." And with that, she starts. It's a obviously going to end up as a ballad. Though it is essentially a rough draft, there is a core theme that is quite catchy, the minor seventh adding a foreboding melancholy.

"I played," Anais answers Jacsen with a rueful smile. "And that was all I needed. It isn't even really about winning," she chuckles, though she falls quiet as Gwyneth starts to play. She tilts her head slightly, eyes half-closing as though to help her focus on the sound over anything else. If it gives Jacsen a chance to sit without her really observing the process, well…what a coincidence.

Lucienne's own slender hand stretches up at her brother's request, guiding his down to her shoulder as the needed support to help get him settled. Sitting on the beach as she has been, she's already privy to bits and pieces of Gwyn's tune, and her expression unclouds as she hears them all strung together now. She lifts her brows as the younger Banefort girl strums her suggested chord, a silent question: do you think it works, Gwyn?

Whether or not he is grateful for some of the lack of attention while he lowers himself onto the ground, it is hard to tell, but less hard for Lucienne to note the slight wince that crosses his features before he can straighten out his lame leg and draw up the other to rest his arms on his knee. There is Gwyn's tune to distract him, though, and he does lose himself to listening for the few moments he can, his smile slowly resuming. "My," he voices after a moment, and looks over at Anais. "Surely you've petitioned your sister to write a little something for your wedding, Anais?"

Whether she is able to play the background music for Anais' lady-like averted eyes, Gwyn doesn't mind. Instead, it's actually a short bit of a song and she finishes it without a flourish. As she's not finished writing it, it just sort of ends. Beaming, she tucks the lute around her arms, so she's cradling it like a baby. "The minor seventh is perfect, Lucienne, thank you. And, oh my, I couldn't possibly write something for the wedding. It took me a month just to do this! I wouldn't have the time!"

"And I didn't want…" Anais turns a rueful, almost apologetic look on Gwyneth. "I mean, I've asked her to dance, of course," she explains to the Terricks. "But I didn't want you to feel like I was rubbing it in or something, Gwyn. You know that if you wanted to perform something, though, I'd be thrilled to have you do it. Your song is lovely. And I'm sure it will be even better once you're finished." Her cheeks flushed, she looks down to rummage through the basket, letting a fall of pale curls veil her features. "Is anyone else hungry? I think we packed some bread and cheese…"

Lucienne winces herself, having noted the same expression crossing her brother's face. She fixes a bit of a concerned look upon Jacsen, but is soon distracted by Gwyn's response. "Oh, good," she says, pleased. "Annie's right, it's very good. Will you add another verse, do you think? — Is there a flask of water in that basket, Anais? This sun is awfully hot, a cool drink would be lovely."

Jacsen seems a touch apologetic when Anais looks back to him and Lucienne. "The ladies have it right, Gwyn, it sounds very good," he agrees. A glance is spared at the elder of the two Banefort girls and her basket, and while he simply watches Anais for a moment, he does nod along to Lucienne's request. "I could use something to drink myself, if you have it."

The praise is what Gwyn thrives on. Proud and beaming, the girl perks up. "Thank you so much. I certainly will be adding a few more verses at the end. There's a lot more to do, but it sounds like I have made a good start." Thinking this over, she beams. "If you'd like, I could play something Anais. I don't mind. Though, of course, there will still be the dancing no matter what." She's already been conscripted to dance with one of the Freys.

"There's the wine here," Anais offers the Terricks, lifting the skin that sits near her knee. "And there's…" After a moment, she surfaces with a skin of cool water as requested, offering it over to Lucienne with a small smile. There's still a faint flush to her cheeks, but she seems mostly recovered. "Why don't we see how it goes, Gwynny?" she suggests to her sister. "That way if you're enjoying yourself with someone, you don't have to feel like you have to stop for it, but if you need to get away from someone horrible, it's really something you absolutely /must/ do." The glint of humor returns to her eyes at her last, revealed in the twist of her lips as well.

Lucienne lets go of a long, relieved sigh as Anais offers the water, her smile genuine and grateful. "Thankyou," she says, uncapping the skin for a long, indulgent drink to cool her off - her skirts are now mostly dry, thanks to the heat of the summer sun. She offers it next to Jacsen, unless he'd prefer wine, and makes no comment on the invitation extended to Gwyn.

He does take the water from his sister, and tips his head back for a healthy swallow, wiping the dampness he leaves on his mouth with the back of his hand. "Thanks," Jacsen says to Lucienne and Anais both, by the cant of his eyes. He leans forward to offer the thing to the Banefort woman, with a small smile.

With another beaming smile for Anais, Gwyn stands. "There's so much to think about now." With a thoughtful tilt of her eyes upwards, it's easy to see she's imagining verses and chords in her head. "I'll have to practice. Just in case. I wouldn't want to get up there and flub a song. How embarrassing! I should start now, don't you think?" Curtseying to Lucienne and Jacsen, the maids and guards that were hers start to gather their own damp selves together to head back. It's a very small retinue. "Enjoy the beach!" With a bright and sly smile, she offers an arm to her red-headed guard. "Would you be kind enough to escort me back Kincaid? What a gentleman!" And, flirting up a storm, off she goes.

"That's probably the wise choice," Anais admits at Jacsen's offer, smile faint as she reaches out to take the offered skin. Her sip almost ends in a spew when Gwyneth summons Kincaid over, though she stifles the giggles with the back of her hand, shaking her head at her sister's departing form. "Well. That went better than I feared it would," she murmurs, lowering the skin and offering it to Lucienne in turn. "Thank you, both. I'm not sure she would have taken the invitation from me alone."

"She's a sweet girl," is Lucienne's official opinion of Gwyn, given in an official sort of tone after she's waved the younger Banefort off. "Just think, the practice will give her something to keep her occupied, too." The Terrick girl leans back onto both her hands behind her, tilting her nose up to the sun's rays. "Hopefully the weather stays like this?"

"How would she have taken it otherwise?" Jacsen wonders with both brows raised, though he does not once along with Lucienne's determination of the younger Banefort girl, and the weather besides. "We could only hope to be so fortunate as that. I'd be quite glad for it."

Anais lifts her head a bit at Lucienne's question, tilting it slightly. "I suspect it will hold," she says after a moment, pensive. "It's still a little far out to be sure, but I'm reasonably certain. And it's nothing," she waves a hand at Jacsen, smile crooked. "Sisters. It's different between sisters and brothers, of course," she adds with a smile for both. "But I think there's more…competition between sisters. I just didn't want her to think I was being smug about the wedding by asking her to perform in it, when it might have been /her/ wedding."

"Sometimes," Lucienne muses up at the sky, her eyes lidding against the brightness, "I would give anything to have a real, live sister." When she shifts her face next to Anais, though, it's with the curve of a wry smile. "And then sometimes I think it's perhaps better that I don't. There seems to be a very fine line you walk, with your sisters, to keep from offending them."

Jacsen chuckles mildly. "Well, soon you shall, at least after a fashion," he points out, leaning over to reach for his cane, his fingers closing about the smooth, worn wood of the shaft, presaging some attempt to get back up to his feet. "Though I'm glad the only sister I do have I don't need to walk quite so delicately about. That sounds quite… exhausting, really."

"It's not as though they'd stop loving me, or I them," Anais laughs. "It's only that sometimes it's easier to think of a way not to fight about something. And thankfully, it looks like we won't have to." As Jacsen reaches for his cane, she watches the movement of his hand, quiet for a moment. "If we're to be sisters, Luci, we should agree beforehand that we won't fight," she finally says, winking at the other woman.

"I can agree to that," Lucienne decides with a smile that's almost too easy. "I'm not a fighting kind of girl, and it's not as though we'd have anything to fight about, anyway." Her skirts all dry now, and Jacsen reaching for his cane, she starts the motion of getting to her feet as well. "I might start the ride back before the afternoon grows too late."

He's a bit more graceful with the standing than he is the sitting, though with his sister on her feet he does reach his hand out for her assistance once again, with a silent and apologetic look. "I'd be pleased to know the both of you got along well," Jacsen remarks as he gets to his feet, "It would do me no good to have my dearest Enne and my own wife at odds with one another." He smiles a touch, and looks to Anais, "Will you be coming back as well? I suppose we could all travel together…?"

Anais glances to the water, to the merriment still going on there, then pushes to her feet, unable to hide the sharp contrast between Jacsen's struggle and her own grace. "If you don't mind, I'll stay a little longer," she smiles faintly, brushing off her skirts. "I'm still hoping I'll catch Father arriving. But I'll meet you back at the keep soon," she promises.