|Summary:||A collection of folks in Terrick's Roost brave the threat of stormy weather in the paddocks, and then flee the rains to the inn to talk some more.|
|Date:||10 June 289|
|Related Logs:||None in particular.|
|Terrick's Roost - the Paddock & the Rockcliff|
|A place for horses, and an inn.|
|10 June 289|
The weather might be turning bad, but it's not so bad as yet. Tiaryn is out, in riding garb (but it's still all black and grey) and mounted on Gethin. Cause she can. And she's in the paddock, checking out his paces. Just to make sure he didn't get hurt or anything. She's already checked his legs and feet and shoes and teeth and all. The small bay, not much bigger than a pony, but wide like an ale barrel, is behaving absolutely perfectly for his rider. Which does have some of the stable hands as they move by just gaping.
Kittridge exits the paddock with one of the stablemasters and two stablehands. One leads a tall, reddish brown destrier, and the other a similarly-sized grey one. The hands lead the horses around the paddock as the lord watches, chatting with the stablemaster. He pauses to peer across at Tiaryn and Gethin, and give a bit of a wave when she looks over.
Because Timmen Potts is terrified of Oliva Snow, he often comes to the main stables before he dares the Tower's. With that thought in mind, Saffron has been checking on the main stables now and then in hopes of intercepting him and the letter he is rumored to be carrying before Mistress Morla can get her old wrinkled grips on it. Punbah and some nameless Mallister guard have bounded after her as she took to the town, the former equally eager for Timmen's return as his purple-silver mate is a right bore. Dressed in a gown of pure sunshine, Saffron enters the paddock and begins to look about for the tall, gawky Timmen. What she does see instead is Lady Tiaryn… and didn't that man see her naked?
Rosanna is drawn closer to the fence of the paddock than her brother, watching the stablehand lead the horses about with the faint-smiling interest of a girl fond of the creatures. She lifts a hand to wave at Tiaryn as well, though her attention is drawn over to the nearer Saffron. "Oh, Lady Saffron," she greets, straightening to drop into a quick curtsy. "A pleasure to see you again." Remember, nothing in the cave happened.
Tia's guard and maid are over to the side, chatting. At least the scowly faced guard will chat with Bethy, when Tia is busy doing something that involves her not anywhere near any men. As Gethin circles the paddock and Kittridge comes into view, Tia returns his wave, and that of Rosanna's. Having now spied the other nobles, she brings Gethin's paces to a halt, dismounting and handing his reins to the scowly faced Flint guard. Might as well make himself useful. And he's far enough away from everyone else that Gethin should behave. Then she walks over towards Kitt and Rosanna, dropping a polite curtsey as she approaches. "My Lord and Lady Groves," she says. And then a slightly bigger smile. "Lady Saffron. It's good to see all of you again. I trust you are all doing well?"
That man totally did, Saffron! You are now part of a not-really-that-exclusive club. Aren't you honored? Not even a little? No? Alright, fair enough. Kittridge approaches his sister and Saffron as Tiaryn comes over as well, bowing politely, "Ladies," he greets them, "Good morning. I see you recovered your horse, Lady Tiaryn," he says, "I am glad. And I am well, thank you. Yourself? Selves?" he amends, including Saffron in the question with a friendly smile.
Saffron is drawn in by the Groveses and Flint, and her shadows follow after her but only one with earnest. She offers Rosanna a small smile at her greeting, and she returns the curtsey as well. Right, nothing happened. "Lady Rosanna, I heard news you and your brother were here." She offers her a bit of dimples, though when she smiles to Kittridge she is all kinds of awkward. If nothing happened in the cave, then Kittridge never saw her naked. That's some flimsy logic for you. When Tiaryn greets her, she beams brightly to the woman. "Quite well, actually. Though I'd do better if Master Timmen was here." With that godsforsaken letter!
"I should dearly like it if someone found my horse," Rosanna says a bit wistfully. Poor horse. A bit belatedly she adds, "But I am glad you have yours returned to you, Lady Tiaryn." She looks over at Saffron and replies a bit blankly, "Who?"
"I'm doing well, thank you, Lord Kittridge," Tia replies. "I had not heard you were also here, but am delighted with the surprise." Tia gives Rosanna a sympathetic glance. "Thank you. It's - well, Gethin might not look like much, but he was my brother's horse, and saved my life. He means a lot to me. I do hope they find more of the horses, as well. And maybe even our musical instruments and such." But she's got the horse, she's quite happy about that, though she's trying to keep her emotions off her face, when faced with Rosanna's wistfulness. Then Tia gives Saffron a quizzical glance. "Whatever the letter, it will come soon enough, I am sure. Is it something you might share with us?"
"Tommas might yet," Kittridge reminds his sister, "You know he'll keep looking." He smiles crookedly, and then looks back to Saffron and Tiaryn, not the least bit awkward. Cave? What cave? "Timmen?" he asks, similarly blank, and then smiles to Tiaryn, "He sounds like a very sturdy beast," he says of Gethin, "I am especially glad he has been returned to you, then." He falls silent then to see about Saffron's answer.
Punbah looks on the brink of answering Lady Rosanna at her question, but something tells him that, that is the worse idea since that one time he tried to chug three pints in under a minute. Saffron instead pipes in with, "One of my house guards. He was sent on an errand and should be returning soon." At least she tries to make it sound he was sent on an errand for her. At Tiaryn's question, she offers a slight exhale of breath and it almost deflates her a bit. "Master Timmen carries a letter from Lord Banefort on a betrothal. While there have been speculations on whether it be the North or the Vale— " And she glares at Punbah, who finds an interesting thing on his boot. "I suspect Maidenpool."
"Oh," Rosanna says. "Well, that is — exciting?" She looks a little pitying upon Saffron, perhaps under the impression that she would never be kept out of the loop of her own betrothal negotiations. It is possible she is very naive.
There was a cave? Really? "He is that, though I think he made a bad impression on Lord Justin, as Gethin knocked him over in his rush to get to me." She knows that's bad behaviour and can't condone it, and yet at the same time, the silly horse did come straight over to her, looking for scritches. Hard to be upset at that. She arches a brow, inclining her head at Saffron. "That is rather a tense time, isn't it? I'm sure it will work out far better." She then smiles at Rosanna briefly.
"To House Mooton?" Kittridge asks Saffron, "Has your family many connections over that way?" It seems like an idle, polite sort of curiosity, and then he chuckles at Tiaryn, "Well, you surely can't fault the horse for its taste," he grins.
"Exciting," Saffron replies dryly. "Yes." The Banefort exhales a bit before she clasps her hand behind her back, fingers twisting together almost nervously. "I suppose I am doing what I can." At the question posed from Kittridge, she offers a slight shake of her head. "No… to be honest, much of my family has kept their alliances within the Westerlands. But, Lady Anais sort of blazed a way into the Riverlands, and my father was even bold enough to seek a match with a Reach House." Her attention drifts to Tiaryn now, offering her a smile. "Its good to see you had your horse found, Lady Tiaryn. I heard that a few others have been located, as well?" There is a slight perk of interest in her voice. She'd be happy to have her own chestnut palfrey back… as long as that gods awful dress never shows up again.
"My father has said that I can visit Lannisport," Rosanna inserts, speaking of Westerlands-Riverlands relations. "Well — he said that before…you know. But—" She glances at her brother a little hopefully. CAN STILL HAZ LANNISPORT?
Tia tilts her head with the talk of betrothals. She's still in mourning, so not like Anders can marry her off, even if he /were/ so inclined. Still, she has been tehre previously, if a few years ago. "I believe they found three, including Gethin. One of them is Muirenn's Pryderi, and there was a grey one, that I'm not sure who it belongs to. I did not see any others." She does flash a grin at Kittridge for his compliment, giving a slight curtsey in acknowledgement. "Perhaps just his love of sweets," she says, good humouredly. And then to Rosanna, she says, "I've never been to Lannisport. If you do go, you'll have to tell me all about it."
"Ah," Kittridge nods to Saffron, "I see. Well, I hope it turns out to your satisfaction," he says with a smile before glancing at his sister. "We'll see," he says, "Probably not right away, but at some point. And we still hope we might find the other horses," he says, "Or at least some. One of our knights is out hunting for them still, and he's an experienced hunter, so we'll see if he can track them down."
Saffron smiles toward Rosanna. "My eldest sister is in Lannisport, and has been there for some years. I didn't think she had it in her to leave the city, but she did come to visit at the Twins for the Tournament." There is something warm and conversational about her tone. "Should you be able to go, I can let her know you are coming. She has a great love for visitors, and she would at least be able to point you to the best places of interest in the city." Then she glances toward Kittridge, nodding her head. "As do I, Ser Kittridge."
"That would be very gracious of you, Lady Saffron. It would be my pleasure to make the acquaintance of your sister." Rosanna looks to her brother with a faint smile. "I didn't think right away, no," she agrees with rare reasonableness.
Tia nods to Kittridge, going quiet now as she listens to the conversation about Lannisport. She moves to lean against the paddock fence, glancing over at the horses for a moment, and then she turns her attention back to the group. "Lord Kittridge, you are watching the two coursers? Are you buying one or something?"
Saffron casts a squinting glance up at the sun before she looks back toward the rest. "If you will excuse me, I have to get back to the Green." She smiles to the others politely as she starts to step away. Punbah is trying to engage in the Timmen Replacement in conversation, but the Mallister guard will have none of it. Saffron starts to gesture the pair to follow her as she heads to leave the paddock.
"That would be very kind of you, Lady Saffron, thank you," Kittridge says with a warm smile of his own as she offers to put Rosanna in touch with her sister, "Good afternoon," he adds, as she heads off, bowing politely. He turns back to Tiaryn, and then blinks and says, "Oh! Yes. I sort of forgot I had meant to be watching them. Destriers, actually," he says, turning to eye the horses again as they're put through their paces, "I was considering them. With all of these tourneys and battles and things, it seemed like it might be a decent investment, but mostly I'm just browsing," he admits.
"They're very pretty," is Rosanna's professional opinion as she turns her gaze back to the destriers. "Look how well they step."
Tia inclines her head to Saffron as the Banefort lady departs. "We shall have to chat again later," she says. Her gaze goes to the horses that Kittridge has showing their paces, with a swift glance to Rosanna. "They are that. Look at the strength in them. I bet they ride very smoothly too." She actually watches them a bit critically, to see if she can figure out anything about them, just from their gaits.
"They are," Kittridge says, tilting his head to eye the pair critically, "I've was riding my courser for the jousts at the Twins," he says, "And he's a fine mount, but he's better suited to hunting than tilting. I'd get more power from a destrier. I'm not sure it's worth it, who knows when the next tourney will be after the one at Seagard, but… can't hurt to look!" He glances at Tiaryn and asks, "You look like you've a keen eye on them, lady. Spotted anything I ought to know? I'm better on top of a horse than trying to pick one out, myself."
"You already rode so well at the Twins," Rosanna says with rare open pride for her brother. "Do you know much about horses, Lady Tiaryn?"
Tia's gaze is on the two horses, and she frowns a bit, glancing back over to Kittridge and Rosanna. "Dafydd was horse mad, and he used to tell me all about them, when I was a child." A happy memory, that. She shrugs a bit, and then smiles, her blue eyes dancing, as she turns her gaze to Kitt. "They are both beautiful, as Lady Rosanna says. I don't see any reason to pick one over the other, in the little I've seen." She pauses, standing with Kittridge and Rosanna just outside the paddock. There are two destriers being put through their paces by a groom while Kittridge supposedly windowshops. One is grey and the other is reddish brown. Over to one side, out of the way, Tia's maid and scowly faced guard stand, the guard with his hand holding onto Gethin's reins. And Tia is dressed for riding. "I do know a little bit, yes. Though not so much as Mistress Oliva."
"My opponent wasn't exactly an impressive jouster," Kittridge says to his sister, "I think the field at Seagard will probably be a great deal more challenging." He peers at the horses for another minute or two as Tiaryn speaks, and nods. "I'd tend to agree," he says, shooting her a smile, "Well, I'll just have to think on it. Or decide which goes better with my armor," he jokes. Half-jokes. "Who is Mistress Oliva?" he asks.
Rosanna rolls her eyes at her brother's joke, marking a return to normalcy for the two Groves' siblings. "I like the chestnut," she announces. "His coloring is prettier."
Tia glances back at the two horses, and nods her head. "I can see that," she says, with a grin as she catches Rosanna's eyeroll. "But depending on the armour, the grey might look better." If that's what will bring the actual answer up, anyway. She then glances towards the stables, but that doesn't conjure up the woman. "Mistress Oliva Snow is the Mistress of Horse here at Terrick's Roost. She seems to be very good with horses."
"Well, I'll mostly be in green," Kittridge says, "If that makes any difference in your opinions." He chuckles, and then nods, "Ahh, of course. I thought the name was familiar. I'm sure I've run into her there before. I would think she'd have to be exceptionally good with horses, having that post." And as a woman, too, which he doesn't quite say but sort of implies.
Walking along the way comes a Charlton Knight, though the only means of telling his House would be the emblem on the saddle blanket of the mare he leads. The grey mare stops, ears swivelling, and then she lightly tosses her head and whickers. The man leading her stops as well, and he steps over to her, lifting a hand to lightly touch her neck. "Easy, now," he says softly, patting her neck a bit. The mare reaches forward then to give him a nudge on the shoulder, lipping at his shirt a bit. Saethwyr chuckles softly, and he brings his hand from her neck to her muzzle, gently pushing her head aside. It would seem he's likely headed towards the stables, what with the bad weather that's moving in.
"Oh," Rosanna says in a displeased voice as the incoming inclement weather finally grabs her attention. "I should get inside before the rain starts." Surely Day is nearby to escort her back to the inn, right? She dips in a curtsy to Lady Tiaryn before she goes.
Tia returns Rosanna's curtsey. "Take care, Lady Rosanna," she says with a smile. And then she looks to Kittridge, with a serious glance. "Truthfully, the grey will make the armour stand out, I think. While the chestnut might be better served by a grey or silver armour." She now is left with just Lord Groves, and so her maid gets to her feet, wandering close enough to keep propriety's rules met. At the whicker of a horse, she glances over and catches sight of Saethwyr, waving in his direction. There is a subtle change to her posture as she recognizes the new arrival. "Have you met Ser Saethwyr?" she asks Kittridge.
"Probably wise," Kittridge says, looking up at the sky for a moment, "I'll see you back at the inn," he says to his sister, giving a wave to Day as they pair head off. He turns back to Tiaryn and smiles, nodding, "I think I agree. It's always best to let the ladies give their opinions first, though, I find, just in case I'm horribly mangling it." He winks, and then turns to look at Saethwyr, leaning around to see him before shaking his head, "No, I don't believe I have."
Rubbing his mare's muzzle for a lingering moment, he then lifts his left hand to scratch under her forelock. "There, happy now?" he asks the animal, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. Turning to continue with leading her, he notices the wave from Tiaryn, and he lifts his left hand to offer a wave in return, his smile growing just a bit. He leads his mare towards the group instead, stopping near and offering a bow. "Lady Tiaryn, my Lord… well met," Saethwyr offers, a smile returning to his features. Straightening, a bit of his hair is left fallen forward to veil one of his eyes.
Tia pauses a moment, before she says, "Lord Groves, this is Lord Ser Saethwyr Charlton. Lord Saethwyr, this is Lord Ser Kittridge Groves, one of the champions from the joust at the Twins." So there. See, Kitt? She can be nice. And notice things. And maybe not put her foot in her mouth? She glances up as there is a flash of lightning, and her eyes widen a bit. But she does look back at Kittridge, at his comment, and then she chuckles softly. "You are probably right about that. Far better to humour us and then do whatever it is you prefer."
"Ser Saethwyr, a pleasure to meet you," Kittridge says, smiling politely. He chuckles at Tiaryn's introduction and says, "Not such a vaunted title as she makes it sound, really. He looks up at the lightning, and frowns a bit, but doesn't move to head inside just yet, saying, "That's always been my practice with everyone," he tells the last with a grin, "Just agree first and figure it out later." He waves to the stablehands that they can bring the horses back indoor before the rain comes, saying, "Looks like that storm may finally be here."
"A pleasure to meet you, Lord Groves," Saethwyr says, inclining his head to the other man. Then his dark gaze turns to Tiaryn, and he smiles as he nods to her, in unspoken thanks for the introduction that she made. "Being a champion of a tournament is significant, my Lord," he offers, a thoughtful note to his voice. The lightning earns his attention, his brow furrowing a bit. Then he brings his gaze back to those he's in the company of, and he chuckles softly. "Though that could turn out dangerously, depending on what you end up agreeing to," he comments, a bit of amusement to his voice. "Aye, it makes me glad that I started heading back when I did," he adds.
Tia glances over towards her maid, who comes all the way over, carrying something. "Ser Saethwyr, I should return your cloak to you. Thank you for loaning it to me," she says, as the maid passes it over. It's been washed and is now nicely folded. Tia does return it though, just in time for the rain, no doubt. Then she glances over at Kittridge. "It was a valiant victory, Lord Kittridge. Don't sell yourself short." Her words are soft, and then she has to chuckle at the comments about agree first and figure it out later. "How often has that practice landed you in trouble, my Lord?" she asks Kittridge. Carefully, she's not paying overly much attention to Saethwyr.
Ahorse, and with his heavy northern cloak about him in anticipation of the weather, Einar makes a circuit of the Roost. What with Gethin not being in the stables and the weather closing in he has taken it upon himself to ensure that his good-sister and her.. steed.. are not caught out by the weather. The green was checked first but as the lightning starts to flash he's on his way to the paddock. Needless to say, the group gathered are qucikly spotted and identified as he closes in and greetings are offered as soon as he's close enough. "Sister, Sers."
Kittridge laughs, and shrugs at Tiaryn and Saethwyr, "Oh, I couldn't say. Plenty of times, at least." He grins, and says, "Still, easier than arguing, with most women. And in the spirit of that practice, I'll just say thank you, Lady Tiaryn," he grins as she praises his jousting once more, "That's very kind of you. I totally agree." He grins, and then turns. "Lord Einar," he greets the newest arrival with a polite nod, "Nice to see you. Everyone seems much better prepared for this weather than I am," he says, gesturing at the cloaks with a chuckle.
As the cloak is offered forth by the maid, Saethwyr raises an eyebrow slightly, and then he bows to Lady Tiaryn. "You are most welcome, my Lady," he says softly. Reaching out, he accepts it from the maid with a nod. He doesn't make to don it just yet, though, instead keeping it held by his left arm. Looking to Lord Groves, he chuckles softly and gives a nod of agreement though doesn't voice such aloud. He's paying about equal attention to both of the others whose company he's with, and being mindful to do so. As Einar comes close, Saethwyr bows. "My Lord," he offers by way of greeting. As he straightens, some of his hair remains fallen forward, veiling one of his eyes.
Tia is quite amused at Kittridge's answer, but she can't say she doesn't find it charming. She chuckles softly. Of course, she doesn't have a cloak with her either, but she's not too worried. There's shelter not too far away, after all. "I cannot say I have done much to be prepared for the weather," she admits with a duck of her head. Then her smile brightens. "Einar, thank you again." She'd probably be hugging him if he weren't mounted and there weren't others pregnant. As it is, she does brighten significantly. "Gethin seems to be just fine, maybe a little hungry, but no worse for wear." A glance over at Saethwyr and Tia clasps her hands together, as she looks back to Kittridge.
Keeping hold of the reins but resting both of his hands and the pommel of his saddle Einar returns the relevent nods and so on before he speaks. "My apologies for interupting," he states to all, then turns to face Tia, "I was just wanting to ensure you're aware of the incoming weather." Another flash of lightling arrives right on cue to emphases his point and he waits for the thunder to roll past before continuing. Once more to all those present he adds, "I'm told the rain is expected any time and may last for several hours so most folk are retiring indoors. It does not sound like the sort of storm to be caught outside in."
Kittridge smiles at Saethwyr, and flashes a grin at Tiaryn, saying, "Hmm, no. I suppose you're not, lady. I'd offer you my cloak, but…" he spreads his arms. Alas, he is without. At Einar's words, he nods, "Yes, it does have that look about it. Those clouds don't bode well. We should probably get inside. Where are you staying?" he asks, looking between each of the three.
The mare standing behind him reaches forward, giving his right shoulder a shove. Saethwyr's attention turns to the mare, and he lifts his right hand to lightly push her muzzle aside. She's already dampened a part of his shirt from her earlier lipping. The Knight turns his dark gaze to Tiaryn, and a smile touches his lips. "Well, if all else failed, you could still use my cloak, my Lady," he offers, inclining his head to her. He would gladly let her borrow the garment again. He's respectfully quiet when Einar speaks, though, and he gives a small nod at the apology offered. As both thunder and lightning play out their parts, he looks up to watch the clouds for a moment before returning his attention to the folks around him. "Aye, heading inside would likely be for the best," he says, a thoughtful note to his voice.
"The inn," Tia replies with a smile back to Kittridge. "Let me just get Gethin and make sure he is stabled appropriately, Einar, and I will be ready to retreat to the inn, and cede the outdoors to the weather for now." She takes a step before she turns to sip a curtsey to all three men. "I shall be right back. It doesn't take her long to clear the ground between them and her guard, where he stands bored, holding Gethin from getting too near the other horses and people. She speask briefly to the guard who bows his head respectfully, and then leads Gethin into the stables. While he does that, Tia returns to the men, but alas, the first drops of rain are starting to fall.
"The Inn," Einar says in answer to Kittridge with a smile, "it seems to be the place to be the place to be seen for nobles in these parts." As opposed to say, Tordane Tower. He's half tempted to dismount and thus allow Tia to ride Rae, his own horse, back to the Inn where it is being stabled, but scratches that idea due to have entirely the wrong saddle for a lady. He still dismounts though, figuring it rude to ride while the others walk. As the rain starts to fall he reaches up for the clasp on his cloak, starting to undo it so the garment can instead be offered across to his good-sister. He pauses though, as he remembers Saethwyr prior offer and glances instead over to the Charlton knight. Hmm, awkward.
"Ah, so am I," Kittridge replies of the inn, before grinning at Einar, "Indeed it is! Though we will probably ride back to Kingsgrove tomorrow evening, I'd expect. It's close enough we generally don't make extended stays here." He smiles, and then says, "Shall we to the inn? It would be a shame to be caught out in the rain if we could avoid it." He glances between the Flint and the Charlton at the cape awkwardness, and says nothing.
Since he was only just handed his cloak, folded, but never put it on, Saethwyr has his cloak readily at hand. Releasing the reins for his mare, he gives the cloak a light shake to let it tumble from its folds, and then he steps over to Tiaryn to settle the garment about her shoulders. Standing behind her from having done so, he carefully lifts the hood up about her head as well, to protect those blonde locks from becoming soaked by the rain. And for himself? Well, he'll simply get wet, is all. Stepping back and away from her, he bows smoothly. "My Lady," he says softly, looking to her, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. Once he straightens, he takes another step back to claim the reins of his mare. "Go on along, I'll catch up after my mare is settled," he says, giving a nod. No reason for them to end up getting wetter on his account, after all.
Tia gives Saethwyr a big smile of thanks at his chivalrous gesture. Einar too gets a look, for his almost doing the same thing. "Thank you both," she says warmly. Another crack of thunder follows a large lightning bolt that lights up the sky. And the big cold drops of rain begin to fall even more frequently. "I shall look forward to seeing you again soon, Lord Saethwyr." Looking after the horse, that works. He might even be quite nicely drenched by the time he makes it into the inn. She does turn to Einar and Kittridge next. "We had best be quick though, as I think we have tried our luck just a bit too long." She begins to make her way to the inn, her maid coming along with, as a matter of course.
That last clap of thunder seems to startle Einar's horse briefly but a few brief mutterings in it's ear and calm desceneds once more. "I think you may be right" he answers to both Kittridge and Tia before Saethwyr is given a nod in understanding. TUrning to lead the way he raises his own hood and sets off in the direction of the inn, the beer and a roaring fire.
"It seems that way," Kittridge agrees. He gives a friendly farewell wave to Saethwyr and then turns with Einar and Tiaryn to head back to the inn at a brisk pace.
Saethwyr inclines his head slightly towards Tiaryn, a smile to his features. "As do I look forward to seeing you again soon, Lady Tiaryn," he says softly. A glance is given to the sky and the storm there, but then his attention comes again to those leaving. He lifts a hand to offer a wave of farewell, but then he turns to continue on the way to the stables. The large strike of lightning causes his mare to toss her head and sidestep, but he easily brings her attention back to him and brings her into the stables to tend.
Just as Tia ducks into the inn, cloaked and hooded thanks to Saethwyr's chivalry, the heavens open up and the rain unleashes in earnest. Thankfully Tia doesn't get too wet, or else she might melt, noble Lady that she is. But once inside, the cloak hood is thrown back, and it tugs at her hair slightly, pulling some of the blonde curls out of their tightly bound wrap so they frame her face in a more gentle look. She chuckles softly, glad to be within the inn, and promptly finds an empty table to claim. Her cloak is thrown over a chair, as she then settles in gracefully, smoothing her skirts automatically. Her maid is there as well, with a basket in hand, and otherwise only looking a little bit like a bedraggled terrier. No wait, that's the guard who finally comes in after stabling Gethin. The maid is only as wet as Tia, and a little less scowly faced.
Just as Tia ducks into the inn, cloaked and hooded thanks to Saethwyr's chivalry, the heavens open up and the rain unleashes in earnest. Thankfully Tia doesn't get too wet, or else she might melt, noble Lady that she is. But once inside, the cloak hood is thrown back, and it tugs at her hair slightly, pulling some of the blonde curls out of their tightly bound wrap so they frame her face in a more gentle look. She chuckles softly, glad to be within the inn, and promptly finds an empty table to claim. Her cloak is thrown over a chair, as she then settles in gracefully, smoothing her skirts automatically. Her maid is there as well, with a basket in hand, and otherwise only looking a little bit like a bedraggled terrier. No wait, that's the guard who finally comes in after stabling Gethin. The maid is only as wet as Tia, and a little less scowly faced than the guard.
Kittridge enters just after Tiaryn, nearly on her heels, though as he's lacking a cloak and is now a good deal more thoroughly soaked, perhaps the haste can be forgiven. He rakes a hand through dripping hair once inside, shoving it back off his forehead, and brushes off his coat before finding a seat and looking about for one of the servers. With all the nobility staying at present, the common room is a busy place.
Nathaniel stops outside the door to the inn to wait while the guard, and then Kittridge, duck into the establishment and out of the rain. He pauses just inside the entry to unfasten his own heavy and simple cloak. Then he sweeps the width of the inn with a glance, searching for some place to settle. A corner table in the back of the room seems to catch his attention particularly, and he drifts in that direction, but not without giving a polite bow to the newly arrived patrons.
Tia does try to not stare at Kittridge, and manages it. Hey, he's a good looking fellow and soaked. She'sn not dead. She did enjoy the view briefly. "Some ale?" she asks him. "Or something warm to drink? Perhaps they have some mulled wine?" It's a thought, and Tia sends the guard to inquire as to refreshments, as she glances over to Kittridge to see what he'd rather. The arrival just after them catches her gaze, as she looks up to see if it's Lord Saethwyr yet or not. As it's not, she inclines her head politely to the man, and turns her attention back to her companion. Her maid settles in, at a nearby spot, watching over her, but not overly obnoxious about it.
Kittridge is oblivious to the attention, turning as Tiaryn speaks, and smiling, "Mulled wine sounds perfect, if they have it," he says, "Or ale, I think. I'm not picky today," he says, smiling. He combs his hair back with his fingers some more and wipes a drip off his forehead, settling into his seat. Nathaniel gets a polite nod from him as well, and then he asks, "Do you intend to stay long in the Roost, lady?"
Nathaniel slows slightly when he overhears the called question about mulled wine. He does not look at the questioner, but does begin to look for one of the servers. He speaks to her, and then nods to that back corner table before she, too, nods and they part. Soon, the server returns with a simple clay cup from which wisps of steam rise. Nathaniel pays without grumbling about the price, and then settles in his intended chair, with his back to the wall, in a good position to observe what is happening while he sips from the cup.
Tia inclines her head. "I would love some mulled wine if they have it," she says. With the final answer from Kitt, the guard makes his way to the kitchens, or the nearest person who'll take the order, making sure he explains it's for Lady Flint and her party. Cause that's what he does. He turns to give Kitt a scowl, living up to his name. Tia, for her part, simply relaxes in her seat and ignores the guard. She smiles at Kitt, though she shrugs. "That is really up to Anders, I guess. I believe he has some business here, and then I think we will be departing. But I am not certain how long that will take." The server that the guard spoke too moves to the kitchen, and shortly after comes out with a tray, which includes the mulled wine, including an extra cup. It's brought over to the table, and served up expertly. Then a few moments later, some additional items are brought to the near table where the maid and guard sit. Break time. Or so Tia can hope. Maybe they'll stop watching her like hawks?
Wet, wetter, wettest. The inn's door opens again, and this time it's wettest that steps in. Also known as Saethwyr. Considering that he'd been advised the rain would last for hours, he didn't really want to stay in the stables for all that time. So once he was done with tending his horse, as promised, he made his way back to the inn. Through the rain, without his cloak. Tiaryn has that, after all. And so it is that Saethwyr is utterly soaked to the skin. Once within, he closes the door, then lifts his left hand to comb his fingers through his dark hair which is glistening and dripping with rain water. His dark gaze passes over the variety of folks that have sheltered here with the rain, and upon spying Lady Tiaryn and Lord Kittridge, he starts to make his way towards them.
Kittridge smiles as Tiaryn sends her guard off for their refreshments, saying, "Thank you. Hopefully they'll be able to rustle some up, with this weather." He brushes at his ear and tugs at his collar, and then settles again to listen, hooking one arm over the back of his chair. "Ah, of course," he nods, "I forget that you are part of Lord Anders' household, sometimes. I must say I hope you find reason to stay a while, even should he depart. It would be strange to have parties and things without you being present. You've become quite a fixture in the neighborhood, lady." He grins, and then wider as the wine arrives. "Ah, splendid," he says, lifting his glass to Tiaryn in polite toast before taking a sip. "Ser Saethwyr," he says after he's swallowed, "You look completely drenched, man."
Nathaniel glances at the door when someone new arrives. With enough rain, everyone from Kings to common born look like drowned rats, and this man appears to have taken a swim. When Kittridge hails the stranger as a Ser, Nathaniel nods to himself. Relaxing a bit, he slips the large leather bag from his shoulder and lowers it to the floor, although he keeps its strap twisted around his left hand.
Tia grins at Kittridge, and inclines her head. "I hope to be staying around here as well," she admits. "I am quite enjoying making new friends and learning how things go on." Not that she had the chance really prior to, given how things all worked out. But nonetheless. Her gaze goes to the fellow in the corner, just briefly, and then over to Saethwyr as he enters. He does indeed look drenched. Don't drool, Tia. She waves a bit. "We've an extra mug of mulled wine calling your name, Ser," she calls out to the Charlton. Course, the scowly faced guard suddenly appears to be on alert, his gaze firmly on Saeth.
Having reached the table where Kittridge and Tiaryn are, he gives a small nod to the man. He takes a moment to look himself over briefly, perhaps realizing just how soaked he is. "Aye, it would rather seem so, wouldn't it?" Saethwyr comments, quirking a bit of a smile. Not that he sounds as though he minds, however. After all, giving up his cloak kept Tiaryn from suffering a similar fate, and that makes it entirely all right. There's nothing that can really be done for it now, after all. He doesn't look to the guard at all, his attention instead on the two at the table. "Mulled wine would be lovely, thank you, my Lady," he says, half bowing to her. He claims a seat, drawing the chair out and then sitting. Squish.
"It is always pleasant, meeting new people," Kittridge agrees with Tiaryn, "I know some find it tedious, but I've always rather enjoyed it, myself. And there seem to be a fair number about, lately, as well. Have you been learning interesting things about the area?" he inquires, perhaps teasing just a little, smiling over his wine glass as he lifts it again. "At least it's warm in here," he comments to Saethwyr, "You'll likely dry out soon enough." He ruffles his (own) hair a bit to help it along, and happens to catch a glimpse of Nathaniel's bag, which he looks at curiously for a moment before looking back to the knight and asking, "What brings you to the Roost, Ser?"
Nathaniel continues to watch the gathering of noble-folk and the lady's retinue. He frowns for a moment when the guard stiffens. From the guard, Nathaniel's eyes shift to the handmaiden, as if using her reaction as a confirmation. He sets his clay cup aside, and when a server comes to repossess it, he tells her, "I need a room for the night if possible. If not, the innkeeper's permission to sleep in the stable will do."
Tia's smile is friendly, but her gaze rests on Saeth just a trifle too long. She simply passes over the mug of mulled wine, and then gives her guard a glare. Down! no matter what Anders said. The maid, for her part, doesn't get riled up by Saeth's arrival. She just rolls her eyes at the guard and stays where she is. "I do like to meet new people as well," Tia agrees. Though at Kitt's next question, she laughs outright, her laughter a gentle fluttery musical sound. "A thing or two," she admits. "For instance, Stonebridge appears to be a huge bone of contention." That's said in all solemnity, except for her dancing blue eyes. She raises her own mug in a salute of sorts, before taking a sip. Her gaze goes from Kitt's hand in his hair to Saethwyr, before she just looks down at her cup for a moment or two. This is actually far nicer than she might have thought.
"Aye, meeting new people is always interesting," Saethwyr says, offering up his two cents worth to the topic at hand. He chuckles softly, and then gives a small nod. "Oh, aye, that's true enough. And the more people who come in, the warmer it will be," he comments, quirking a smile. Lifting his right hand, he lightly pulls his fingers through his hair, giving it a slight tussle. Then he looks to Lord Kittridge before lifting a hand to gesture slightly towards the Lady Tiaryn. "I came with Lady Tiaryn's folk, having offered my services as an additional escort with the recent bandit issues," Saethwyr explains, a thoughtful note in his voice. As a mug is passed over to him, he reaches out to accept it, his fingers brushing against hers. "Thank you, my Lady," he says with a smile. Then he lifts it to take a sip of the wine, savouring it.
"And has it taken many months to learn that, lady?" Kittridge teases Tiaryn before taking another drink of wine. He glances up at the guard, and over at Saethwyr, but seems not to mind the scowler's scowling. Maybe that's just his face? Poor fellow. Another sip of wine, and he is nodding to the Charlton knight, "Ah, of course. Wise of you. To offer that protection and, it seems, to have gotten out of Stonebridge while you might."
Nathaniel chuckles softly when Tia describes Stonebridge's status as a touchy subject, and even more at Kittridge's agreement. When the latter man alludes to growing danger in that quarter, however, Nathaniel's smile fades. He studies the lady carefully but discretely. When more patrons start to arrive, he glances in their direction, giving them a quick sweep of his eyes. Finally, he stops a server to ask for a bit of bread and cheese.
"Not too many, Lord Kittridge," Tia replies. She pauses as the mulled wine is taken and her fingers brushed so lightly and unintentionally. She inclines her head to Saethwyr with a smile, a silent acknowledgement of his thanks. Right now where was she? Oh yes. "Only two or three months," she continues, not the least bit seriously. "Though I am certain you had that figured out within a week." She takes another sip of the wine, feeling the warmth of the alcohol if only lightly. Then she looks to Saethwyr, giving him a quick grin. "And you definitely have my thanks for your assistance, Ser. Not a single bandit was seen, which makes me entirely happy about it."
"It seemed a prudent course of action," he says, a thoughtful note to his voice. "I had no way of knowing what would befall my House after I had left, alas," he adds, a frown touching his lips. Worry for his family shows. Of course, with what did happen, he's concerned that if he goes back now that he'll get arrested upon entry to Stonebridge, which is something to avoid. His gaze turns back to Tiaryn, and he inclines his head to her, a smile coming to his features. "It was a pleasure to lend my services, my Lady," Saethwyr says. Then he lifts his mug of wine, taking a drink from it.
"Oh, well. So long as it was only two or three," Kittridge replies airily, "I think it took me at least four, actually. I'm not very quick, when it comes to such things." He drinks, and grins, and then nods to Saethwyr, "It was, I'm sure. And more than you knew, even. I hope the situation for your family is not so bad? It has been difficult to tell the truth of it, so many stories floating about. Have you heard from them at all, may I ask?" More wine is drunk, and then he catches Nathaniel looking and asks, "Have you some business in Stonebridge, ser?" Ser with a small s, that is. The non-knightly kind, he is guessing.
Nathaniel looks past the array of other patrons milling around the inn to the table of nobles. He inclines his head to Kittridge, and calls, in a calm but carrying voice, "My family is from Stonebridge, Ser. The contention is a great strain even to the common folk who must walk with care when great lords cast their eyes over the land."
Tia chuckles again at Kitt, the light conversation and teasing coming as a bit of a surprise to her. But a welcome one. It's nice to relax, after all. Though the conversation takes a little bit of a downturn, and she inclines her head. "It is quite a confusing situation," she says slowly. "I hope that the Charltons are okay. Lady Cherise and her babe are there." Surely the mother and son are safe? She hopes. At Nathaniel's words, she tilts her head a bit, glancing from him back to Kitt and Saeth. And then back again. "It is obviously quite a strain," she says softly. Impact everywhere. Sadly. It tempers her smile to Saeth for his gentle comment.
"Sometimes a decision turns out to have more things right with it than you realize at the time you make it," Saethwyr comments, a thoughtful note to his voice. "I have hopes that the situation is not so bad as well. I've not heard word from them, as of yet. I have heard the rumours, and that is all, and I tend to put little stock in them for the amount of falsehood that such can hold," he muses, a small smile coming to his features. He takes a drink of his wine, then follows Kittridge's attention over to the man who had been watching them. His attention returns to Tiaryn, though, watching her, and he offers a smile to her in return for hers. "Thank you, my Lady. I hope they are as well," he agrees, giving a small nod.
"Quite," Kittridge agrees with Saethwyr with a nod. He pours himself more wine, and nods, "And wise not to put too much stock in rumor, of course. There are so many conflicting stories, it's difficult to tell what's going on. I'm sure that the Lady Cherise and her child must be cared for, though, the Naylands would never go so far as to risk doing them harm, I shouldn't think, whatever else they may be trying." He nods at Nathaniel's response and asks the man, "Have you come from there recently?"
Nathaniel straightens in his seat against the wall. "I have, Ser," he answers. "And indeed, rumors do abound, especially when the question is, 'Who will tax my crops?' Some even say that those who burned that wagon had more than thievery on their hearts." He shakes his head. "I don't know, except that it brings more work for a courier."
Tia finishes her cup of mulled wine, and listens quietly to the chat now, as it continues on about Stonebridge. She glances over at the fellow, the courier it seems, thoughtfully. But as she finds her eyelids starting to droop, she shakes herself, and gets to her feet. "Ser Saethwyr, your cloak is here. Thank you again for the loan." She takes a breath, glancing to the courier. "I hope that everything works out well for you, ser." And then to Kittridge, she says, "Ser Kittridge, thank you. It has been a pleasure to converse with you. I hope we will get the opportunity to do so again at some point." She gives a polite curtsey to the two handsome knights. It takes only a glance to her maid and guard to have those two on the move. The scowly faced guard makes sure to give Saeth an extra scowl on purpose, even as Tia reaches a hand to push a blonde curl back out of her face. "I think it is time for me to retire for the night. Good night, all."
"Aye, that tends to be the issue with rumours. And so I find myself waiting," Saethwyr says, a thoughtful note to his voice. He hopes that no one's been hurt, with all of what's happened. Or what's supposed to have happened. His dark gaze turns to Lady Tiaryn at her words, and he smiles as he gives a small nod. "Ah, you are most welcome, my Lady. I am thankful it served you well," he says. He watches Tiaryn rise back to her feet, and then he gives a nod. "I hope you rest well. Good night, my Lady," he offers with a smile. He sets aside his glass of wine in order to rise and bow to her, the movement graceful even though he's still soggy.
"Hopefully not for much longer," Kittridge says to Saethwyr, and then he too rises as Tiaryn does. "It has been my pleasure, Lady Tiaryn," he says, with a wide smile, "And I hope so as well. Good evening." He bows, and retakes his seat once she's gone, turning to ask Saethwyr, "What'd you do to that guard of hers? He couldn't stop glaring at you long enough to drink his ale, just about. To Nathaniel he asks, "You're a courier?"
Nathaniel stands as well, and lays his hand on his still damp cloak that he draped on another chair at his table. When Kittridge questions him about his work, he inclines his head. "I am, Ser." He glances to the inn's door, and adds, "And I should find sleep as well before the new day brings new travels."
Reclaiming his seat doesn't prevent the Charlton Knight from watching Lady Tiaryn depart. Though at least for sake of the guard that Lady Tiaryn has to keep her safe, he does so carefully and without making it too obvious. Lifting his mug of mulled wine, he takes a drink of it, then looks over to Kittridge. "Ah, well… in truth, I did naught to the guard," he answers truthfully, a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "I rather believe the guard was hired because of his surly nature and natural glower. He replaced her last guard, whom the bandits killed. Perhaps he feels his days are numbered," he muses in a thoughtful tone. His attention shifts to Nathaniel, and he raises an eyebrow slightly before giving a small nod. "Rest well, ser, and fair travels to you," he offers.
"Maybe so," Kittridge nods to Saethwyr, taking a long drink at the mention of the guards killed at the ill-fated picnic. He considers speaking for a moment, and then elects to drink again instead, offering a lifted hand in farewell to Nathaniel as he swallows. "She is a very impressive lady," he says, presumably of the recently-exited Tiaryn, "One of the friendliest and most personable of those I've met in recent months, when she has the best reason to be the opposite. Are you two long-acquainted?"
Saethwyr lifts his glass to take a drink of his mulled wine, looking in the direction of where Tiaryn had departed. Then his attention turns back to Kittridge, and he raises an eyebrow slightly before giving a nod. "Aye, that she definitely is," he affirms, quirking a smile. He's quiet for a moment taking a sip of his wine, and he lifts a hand to wave a farewell to Nathaniel before his attention returns to Kittridge. "Mmm… I have known her for a little while, now. She lured my interest with her harp playing," he comments, a definite fondness in his voice. He gives a soft chuckle, then lifts his free hand to comb his fingers through his hair and tussle it a bit.
Kittridge sips his wine and listens, looking at Saethwyr as the other knight speaks. "I have heard that she plays," he nods, "She mentioned it at some point, but I don't think I've ever heard. Is she very good?" The lady no longer present he kicks his feet up onto the seat of a chair across the table, and sprawls a bit less-politely. "Do you two have an understanding?" he asks.
The Charlton Knight looks down into his cup of mulled wine for a moment, and then he lifts it to take a sip from it before looking to Kittridge again. He studies the other man for a moment before giving a nod to answer the first question. "She played a number of times at the tournament, often to while away evenings or when it was raining. She's very good at it," he confirms. Then he's quiet for a moment, considering the last question, taking another drink of his wine. "Aye, she and I do. But, it is a matter of time, and speaking to the appropriate people," he says, a thoughtful note creeping to his voice.
"I am sorry not to have heard her play," Kittridge says. He doesn't press on the other question, sipping his wine, content to wait and see whether Saethwyr chooses to answer. When he does, Kit smiles, and says, "Then you're a lucky man, ser. I wish you both the best. If I might make a suggestion?" he says, lifting a brow, and then going ahead and making it without really waiting, "I believe I heard from my sister that she had her harp with her at the picnic, and the bandits took it. A new one might make an excellent gift, if you haven't already thought of it yourself, of course," he grins.
"Well, I am fairly certain that the opportunity will arise for you to be able to hear her play," Saethwyr says, a smile coming to his features. He takes a sip of his wine, listening to the words the other man has to say. Then he inclines his head towards Kitt. "Aye, and I am thankful to have had luck on my side for that," he says, giving a small nod. "Hmm… that is quite an excellent idea. I appreciate the suggestion, I hadn't realised that hers had been taken," he muses in a thoughtful manner. Finishing his wine, he settles the cup back to the table. "Well, I suppose I should be off to my room to find something dry to wear," he adds, considering his still wet self.
"I hope so," Kittridge replies, and then returns Saethwyr's smile when it's given. "You're quite welcome," he says, "I hope it works out." He nods as the knight rises, chuckling as he nods, "Aye, you wouldn't want to catch cold," he agrees, "It was a pleasure meeting you, ser. Have a good evening." He gives a friendly smile and a nod of farewell.
Saethwyr rises to his feet, and then he bows to Lord Groves. "Thank you, Ser… so do I," he says, a smile coming to his features. "Indeed, I'd rather avoid the cold entirely. It was a pleasure to meet you as well. A good evening to you, and be well," he offers with a friendly smile in turn. Then he starts to head away from the table to head on up to the rooms.