|Come Back With Your Shield|
|Summary:||Lady Lorna has a request for Ser Gedeon.|
|Stone Walk — Tordane Tower|
|Set at a slight incline, the stone pathway leads up a slight rise northeast out of the town square towards the single tower of House Tordane. Grass grows thick and plush along the side though it is well maintained. Private shops and stables are located up closer to the manor with the family's private stables attached directly to the exterior wall of the small castle.|
|~Sun Jan 01, 289|
Lorna has been looking for Gedeon. A couple of discreet inquiries have resulted in her traversing the Stone Walk, cloaked demurely and with her hound at her side. Her expression is one of furrowed brow and direct intent, pausing every few shops along the pathway to take stock of the area and see if she can spot that shock of blonde hair.
Gedeon is indeed here. He's wearing in a fresh shirt that must have been provided for him as his former one was gashed and bloody. He's found a point on the stone walk where he can look down on the town square sloping out below it, not quite so merry and lively as it normally is. There is no open market, today, but rather men and women of Stonebridge moving about to gather things for the stores or move things from their homes further out into the small town proper. The knight is silent as he watches all this bustling, one hand idly rubbing a scar on the other's palm.
It's Stormer who finds him first, darting a bit ahead of Lorna to make her way up to Gedeon and attempt to push against him gently in demand of attention. Her mistress follows up moments later, satisfaction at locating the man warring with concern that Stormer might be bothering him. "Oh, I'm sorry Ser Gedeon, I can call her off. But I'm glad I found you."
He turns more quickly than he might at the sudden press against his legs, one hand beginning to move towards his sword. But raiders aren't quite so furry as Stormer or so affable, and he relaxes as he recognizes his unexpected company. "My lady," he greets as Lorna approaches, one hand idly rubbing the scruffy fur atop the large dog's head. "Was there something you needed of me?"
Stormer is satisfied with this; she remains in position for Gedeon to pet her; his hand is occasionally favored with a lick of approval as the two humans converse. "First I wanted to ask how your stitches were holding. You're the first person I've ever sewn up, so I'm concerned to make sure you're alright. That and," she looks somewhat bemused at herself, "I have a favor to ask of you, and I expect you may find it a bit laughable."
"Oh?" Gedeon asks as Lorna reveals he's her first stitched patient. "I would not have guessed. You did well, my lady, the stitches are holding admirably and there's no heat or redness to the wound. Thank you for helping me." The second, though, has his brows lifting as he continues to pet the large wolfhound beside him. "It would be a shameful knight indeed who laughed at a lady's request."
Lorna looks a bit sheepish - well, that's not quite the word, but the best way to interpret her expression is to say that from the look of it, if she were someone else, she might laugh at her own self. Arms bending, she reaches into the sleeve of her dress, and pulls out a handkerchief, embroidered around the edges in a surprisingly delicate filigree pattern. "I made this for someone. A knight." she begins, somewhat awkwardly. "He was very happy to accept it, and he promised he would take it whenever he ventured out. Except the very first occasion in which he was called to duty afterward, he forgot it. And when he came back, he was upon his shield instead of carrying it." She thrusts it outward toward him. "Without any implication or suggestion of anything untoward, I would ask if you would consider bearing it, Ser Gedeon. It would feel unlucky to me if you did not, as the Lady Isolde carries concern for you, and I have already put my hand to your care and recovery." She adds hastily, "I will not be offended if you refuse, of course."
Of all the requests Gedeon might have expected, the blink of surprise as he studies the handkerchief suggests that this certainly was not one of them. "I think," he murmurs, "you may be mistaken in the Lady Isolde's opinion of me, my lady." He peers down at the offered kerchief before lifting the hand not touching Stormer to gently accept it. "But, I would be honored to carry this. I feel, in the coming days, we shall each need all the luck we might find."
The expression of relief on her face is almost comical, even something about the set of her shoulders seems to relax from a tension previously unnoticed. "Thank you, Ser. And…well. I did say concern." Now her frown turns upside down, though there's a wry set to the curve of her mouth, though it fades quickly. "The men of the Crossing will join the fight, I have no doubt. I have faith that the Ironborn will be beaten back." She pauses thoughtfully for a moment, and then asks, "But do you think there is something the womenfolk might do before you all make to march? Even if it's as simple as prayers."
Gedeon nods as he folds the handkerchief and tucks it into the pouch that's tied to his belt. "Even concern may be a touch too strong an emotion," he says wryly, a corner of his mouth lifting in a faint smile. "We will all fight. The Ironmen may think themselves hard and ruthless, but they have not seen the fire of men defending their homes and all they hold dear. We will push them back into the sea." For the last question, he's quiet as he considers. "Perhaps you might meet with the maester and help prepare poultices or herbal mixtures for travel. There will be raiders between here and there, whether we march to aid the Roost or Seagard."
"Thank you." she says sincerely. "My lady is a fairly self-sufficient woman, so I often find time at hand for other pursuits, though I want my actions to reflect well on her." She considers a moment and says, "Come back with your shield, Ser Gedeon, and not upon it. I'll be displeased if my fine stitchwork was for nought." She gives him a faint smile in return. "I shan't distract you any longer from your contemplations."
"I shall do my utmost, Lady Frey," Gedeon promises, sketching Lorna a small bow, "to act as you bid. Thank you for the favor."
"It was my pleasure." the Frey replies, and eyeing her dog a bit amusedly, lets out a soft, three note whistle that causes the dog to lift her head, perk her ears, and trot the few steps toward Lorna. The lady in question dips a curtsey to the knight, then turns and begins treading up the walk back toward the Tower. She's infinitely relieved.