|Do Not Miss Your Mark|
|Summary:||Ser Riordan and Lady Isolde shoot at targets and other things.|
|Date:||12 Dec 2011|
|Related Logs:||The Westerling Calls|
|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.|
|December 12, 288|
The targets are set up, the cloth pierced a few dozen times already and the arrows retrieved. The holes still show and Isolde stands with a few arrows to the ground before her. A simple cut dress to allow for the easy pull of her bow as she sets and arrow and aims down the shaft. Her head tilts and the fletching brushes her cheek before she holds her breath to steady and releases with the twang of the bow string.
SHe lower sthe bow and flexes her fingers as her dark hair is restrained by the braid tightly down her back and circlet at her fore.
"Not bad." Comes a familiar voice from behind Isolde. Stepping into better light, Riordan makes his appearance. "Looked like you were trying to kill a wild animal on a hunt, should that my good brother take you on such a day." He smiles. "Personally, I'd probably be picturing the target as being the head of some undesirable criminal. If I were Rutger, I'd probably be picturing my own head. But that's just between you and me, hmm?" He smiles. "Oh, I do hope I'm not bothering your practice." He motions to indicate the bow with an arm slung through it and a quiver of arrows strapped to his back. "I thought I'd get some practice in myself."
The voice brings Isolde about to look at the owner of the voice. Riordan receives her attention a moment, brow rising as he goes through the list of his brothers. "You have such…excessive opinions of your brothers…though I do not think it is you that Lord Rutger would picture, not first at least." She offers a faint smile and then dips her head. "I would not keep you from the targets…besides, one can only hone their skill if they take the time to try." She turns fore again and draws another arrow, a squire awaiting her vollies to clean up the target again. She notches and draws back. "There are a great many noble ladies about of age, my goodbrother, should you not be out attending them and seeking for yourself a match?" Draw, hold one's breath, release.
"I certainly have opinions of my brothers. Of that I can be certain." Riordan looses the bow from his shoulder and harm and picks out an arrow, which he draws on the bow. "I must admit, I've never quite been the marksman that others in this family have been. I've been preoccupied with other weaponry." He focuses on his target. He chuckles at Isolde's comment. "You might think, goodsister, that I would be out, as you say, seeking a match for myself. But today I have decided to find myself here, instead of on that particular styling of hunt."
"It seems you have no inclination to every find such a hunt, goodbrother. Though there is a charming Westerling daughter staying with us at thsi very moment." Isolde looks over to him. "Fair and blue eyed, perhaps you would do well to take a picnic with us." She offers with a smile while she pulls another arrow from the ground and notches it to place, drawing back to aim at the target. "If it please you that is…" She releases and lowers her bow. "It seems to me you know well of makes of weapons."
"I wouldn't say that. After all, they seem to rather flock to me. I don't have to do the work, most of the time. But…at times it is most certainly nicer to seek one's own possible future wife than to be sought out by her." Riordan chuckles. "Oh? And who is this fair Westerling? Someone I may have met before, or someone from a boring old house that we'd not usually have much contact with?" He enquires, curious. Drawing another arrow, he lets it loose.
"I wouldn't say that. After all, they seem to rather flock to me. I don't have to do the work, most of the time. But…at times it is most certainly nicer to seek one's own possible future wife than to be sought out by her." Riordan chuckles. "Oh? And who is this fair Westerling? Someone I may have met before, or someone from a boring old house that we'd not usually have much contact with?" He enquires, curious. Drawing another arrow, he lets it loose. "Oh, I know my way around a bow or two. After all, what sort of trained knight would I be had I not some training in the art of marksmanship, hmm? Not a very good one, at that!"
A brow lifts and Isolde gives him a long look. "A house for sure, that hardly ever speaks with your own. They are a greater house, sworn to the house Lannister of Casterly Rock. Lady Danae is quite comely and none too boring. She is however thoughtful and of good lady like quality." SHe intones with a bit of disdain at his quickness and rather bold attitude. "Flock to you? Why yes I suppose so, you are handsome, as is my lord husband. You were graced with your father's strong jaw and sharp features." She intones and draws an arrow to notch it. She draws and releases.
"They say the Lannisters always pay their debts. But I say a Lannister always tricks others into owing them debts." Riordan rolls his eyes. "We Naylands are much more honourable than they." He tilts his head slightly. "Lady Danae…" He wracks his brain, remembering all his houses and their descendants. "Westerling?" He hopes he's gotten that right. Westerlings, if he is remembering correctly, are sworn to the Lannisters. "Flock to me. Like a flock of sea birds. It grows tiresome on this weary soul." He speaks with mock exhaustion. "I have certainly been blessed with good looks. Or should I say, 'cursed'? For it truly is a blessing and a curse, goodsister." Arrow drawn and let loose.
"It is what you make of it, goodbrother." Isolde says and is checking the string of her bow before drawing another arrow and setting it. "Sea birds are noisy, pesty things, I would tell you to find yourself a quiet song bird, who will sing to you at night if you wish the gulls to leave you be." She draws back, the string straining as she draws the fletching to her cheek. She releases and looks to the targets. "Let the squire clear." She says and lowers her bow.
"As it is with any life, hmm?" Riordan sighs, looking over at Isolde with weary eyes. "You know, my goodsister, as often as I seem to be one of my father's favourites, it gets to be tiring at times. He expects much from all his children, yes, but even more so from those he bestows more favour on. May I tell you something in confidence, and be assured you shall not tell even Ryker?"
The request of her makes Isolde set the edge of her long bow to the ground. Her hand rests at the other lightly and she gives him a considering look. "But you have his favor, where all your brothers yet seek it and may never find it for you have already set the station as by which they should mark themselves…" She sighs though and then nods her head. "You may tell me in confidence, goodbrother. I would not betray your request."
"Yes, I've got his favour. I have done what he has asked of me. And look what it got me, until you and Ryker have children, I am the rightful heir to Stonebridge!" Riordan looks about, making sure that there aren't any servants too near by. "Sometimes I envy the likes of Raffardy, and even Rowenna." That's right, he mentioned the disowned sibling. "Am I really better off? Grant it, I do what I love. I am able to work with horses and I am often in tournaments, jousting. But the standard I have set with Father is high. One that I feel I cannot hold at times."
Looking him over as he speaks of envying the younger siblings and some of which have the longest haul to find their father's affections, Isolde offers a faint but plaintive smile. "The light seems brightest on the other shore, goodbrother." She intones lightly. "You have favour, you have the best hold on the future, but my husband I shall have children." She says plainly enough. Her gaze shifts to that of the squire bringing the arrows quickly to them. "I think, goodbrother, you do not see how your father sees your presence as the only hope amongst his trueborn sons. He puts great stock in you and for the life of me sometimes I wonder why he had not given my hand to you instead." She murmurs and than shakes her head. "It is easy to see, what you have won in affection from him will not be easily lost, you can trust in that."
"You may be true in that regard." Riordan mutters, reluctantly, in return. "Whatever hold I have on the future, I can never hope to sway my father in a more lenient manner. So, my appearance of being slightly stern toward my siblings is partly for that hold." He smiles and chuckles, taking his own arrows as they are returned to him. "I can tell you why he did not give you me nor I to you. Well, one possible reason, anyway. It is possible he wishes Ryker to have children, so as to ensure the proper lineage. But as I say, that's just one possibility. And do you not care for Ryker?"
The squire pierces the ground with her arrows so that she may pull them as need be from the earth. Isolde laughs shoftly and nods her head. "I care dearly for your brother. The match, though revealed to me only shortly before I wed, was a good one. I could not ask for a better husband. I think perhaps I said that because of your father's willingness to see Stonebridge in your hands next. Seems rather a thing of interest that he would pass over your brother Rutger when has no more favor for my husband than him. It was just an observation, not a proclamation." Though he is yet older than she is and Ryker yet so, she makes no comment on the age difference. Grasping an arrow, she notches and draws, releasing soon after.
"Well, one way or another, you know my secret, goodsister. And I'd care to know that you shan't go about, letting others know of it." Riordan responds in good nature. "I am more than happy to have this place should something happen, but if you and my brother should have a child, I would most certainly digress to the child." He grins, shaking his head, while taking an arrow and drawing before releasing it to the target.
"I put nothing to chance though…" Isolde says softly and most nearly to herself. "I gave you my confidence, goodbrother, I would not go breaking it. Besides, I do not think it would do any of your brothers any better to know it or not…your father is a man of stubborn opinion." His arrow falters a little less true, and she smiles a little. "Mayhaps you need to practice some more, goodbrother, besides, you should come on this picnic with me. Meet the Lady Danae. It would do you well to beat back the gulls with a song bird." She professes again, amusement in her tone.
"I might do my brothers some good, for they could tell our father what I said, and he may be sorely disappointed. After all, I'd not do well to speak of Rowenna in his midst." Riordan shakes his head solemnly, though a small smirk crosses his face. "And when, do tell, is this picnic of yours that you propose I attend in order to meet the Lady Danae? Hmmm?" He laughs ever so slightly. "It appears you need some more practice as well, goodsister!" He lets loose yet another arrow.
"I always need more practice…" Isolde retorts and then she looks to him. "You again forget your father wouldn't listen to a wit of what your brothers say, as always. His counsel is his own…and those he favors if you remember. He would take it for their fancy and not blame you for it…" She huffs, dark hair falling in her eyes before she lifts a hand to push it from her cheeks. Notching another arrow there after, she draws and releases.
Frowning at her shot, she gives him a look. "Yes, I conspire to give you a bride, goodbrother, if only to be certain if you do receive Stonebridge that you will have a woman I can trust to take good care of it."
"I haven't forgotten. I've just chosen to know that my father is concerned in making us all the best we can be. And that can sometimes mean making sure we don't end up disowned." Riordan smiles. "Which is quite nice of him, really." He says that almost sarcastically. "Do not worry. I am sure to marry a woman who is good on her feet and with her mind. I wouldn't have anything less, I'll have you know!" He draws yet another arrow and lets it fly.
Riordan's shot goes astray and nearly hits the servant who is off the the side, lodging itself in the side of the building and cracking down the middle. "Well…that wasn't what I wanted to do."
"I wouldn't wish anything less for my goodbrother who has the care of Stonebridge should I fail to produce heirs…" Or Ryker die. Isolde lifts a brow, "Well then trust in your good sister to know the ladies attending currently and that are of age. She is quite charming…" She continues to insist and then blinks at the shot going quite astray. Her lips part and the servant is scurrying to get further away as she slowly lifts her next arrow. Setting it and drawing back. "Try not to kill my servants..yes?" She says, "They are not yours yet, goodbrother."
"I suppose I should have trust in my goodsister that she would have nothing but the best intentions for me." Riordan replies with a tad bit of cheeky arrogance in his voice. He grins slyly. "I apologize. I forgot that none of my own servants are here…something I must rectify if I'm permitted to stay here longer. I shall have to call upon some servants to come from the Hag's Mire." He grins. "Well, before I actually kill your servant, I should head away. I don't wish to create a mess, after all."
"See to it that you at least make the deaths painless…" Isolde says dryly but lowers her bow without stringing another arrow. "You are welcome to invite any others as you see fit where we are lacking here at Stonebridge." She tells him and then is quick to add, turning to give him a long look, her dark braid swaying at her back. "I would seek only to ever do the best for my family, goodbrother. You are after all, my brother." She smiles to him then, giving a sharp tug to unhook the edge of the bowstring.