Page 307: Drinking and Thinking
Drinking and Thinking
Summary: Aching sore from his sparring and a fall from his horse, Lord Justin is sitting around drinking. Lady Katrin and Lord Martyn come by and briefly join him. Martyn even speaks!
Date: 22/May/2012
Related Logs: Knight's Mettle
Justin Katrin Martyn 
Tourney Grounds, Twins
Grass and horses! Lots of knights!
May 22nd, 289

It's quiet, it's a warm sunny day and those who were injured in the joust or had partied exceptionally hard the night after, have been mostly laying up and resting today. Justin is no exception, even if he didn't partake in the joust. For whatever his own reasons, he is much stiff and sore with bruises, sitting slouched in a chair under the awning of one of the Terrick pavillions and drinking. And not wine, either, but small sips from a jug of locally made whiskey. He has his surcoat off, dressed in off white tunic with dark grey trousers matched with black boots. His shirt sleeves are rolled up and his arm guards off as he rests, some gods awful black and blue bruises blotching the left side of his neck and collar bone where someone or something hit him pretty hard, more than once.

Ambling through the variety of pavilions and people is Katrin, flanked by her Septa and handmaiden. Despite her smile and polite demeanor as she passes by those of her acquaintance, a shadow lingers behind her green eyes. She moves carefully, as if to ensure that no one takes any particular notice of her or her party.

Justin is very mellow and not entirely sober. Sprawled in the chair, his pale grey eyes alight upon Katrin's movement over the green grass, the day quite pleasant if warm. He doesn't say anything to her but he does lift his small wooden cup in his right hand to greet her in silent toast. It could be read as greeting, invitation, or ignored as she see fits. Justin doesn't look like he's getting up.

Katrin skids to a halt and hesitates, looking across to her Septa inquisitively. With a nod from the woman, a smile graces her lips as the Haigh noblewoman walks slowly in the direction of Justin. Halting just outside of the pavilion, she makes her bow. "Good afternoon, My Lord," she greets politely. "Quite a pleasant afternoon, would you not agree?"

Luckily, the young Terrick is only a little less than sober and not sloshed. Justin starts to nod to her, then thinks better of it and gathers himself out of his sprawl to make himself stand and offer her a half bow, "I suppose it is, Lady .. Katrin, isn't it? We met at the Crane's Crossing, yes?" Yes, he's pretty certain he's placed her aright in his memory, "Dropped your book." Justin sips from his cup, not making to offer her any of the amber liquid he's poured from the clay jar. Potent stuff.

Amusement flickers in her eyes, "Yes, I believe I had," Katrin says. "Though it does shame me that that is your one memory of me. Lord Justin, was it not?" Her brows lift ever so slightly and she waits. Before more words can escape past her lips, she is halted by her Septa who leans in to murmur a few words to her. "Ah yes. Would you perhaps excuse me a few moments, my Lord. My Septa has rightfully reminded me of a previous engagement that I must see to." She bows. "Though… I do hope that perhaps we might meet again and speak further soon?"

There is a slow nod, "Aye, Lord Justin, my lady." Well, it's true that he's probably not making his best impression, bruised up and about half dressed. Justin's gaze slips to the Septa and then he simply retakes his seat, "Of course. I don't plan to depart before I see the melee. Enjoy yourself, Lady Katrin."

Martyn has been out in the nearby area for a while, it seems. Now he's making his way back in the general direction of his tent, looking like he's been doing some exercising out there in the wild. Looking around for a few moments as he does, although he's not paying that much attention aside from avoiding collisions

Justin only sits there, watching whoever goes by, his gaze following Lady Katrin as she wanders off on whatever business her Septa reminded her to see to. His attention drifts from her to Martyn's return, giving the other man a nod, "Ser Martyn," he greets. Justin doesn't get up, pouring himself a bit more into his small cup from the jar.

Almost there, it would seem. Wait? Was that his name? Turning to look over in the direction the sound came from, Martyn offers a bit of a nod to Justin now. "Lord Justin, how are you today?" he asks, stepping a bit over in that direction.

Martyn starts to get a shrug, but that's not really a good idea with the nasty bruises along one side of his neck so Justin winces, "I'm delightful, Ser. Have you heard anything on when they'll be holding the melee?" He makes a motion to the jug to invite the other man to have a drink with him, if Martyn likes.

Martyn shakes his head a little bit, pausing as he sees that wince. "What's wrong?" he asks, before he offers a shrug. "No, I haven't heard anything yet," he replies, before he adds, "Looking forward to it?"

Justin smiles a little, "Nothing wrong at all. Stiff and sore after some sparring yesterday. Resting, drinking a little, waiting for news of the melee. Aye, want to see it. I think… Ser Hardwicke convinced me that I'm still a lousy fighter and need a lot more practice." Justin very lightly sips from his cup again.

Martyn ahs a little bit as he hears that, "Well, practice makes perfect, they say," he offers with a bit of a smile. Moving over to get himself some of that drink. "Ser Mychal used to say that, before he showed me I still needed more practice…" A brief grimace as one hand goes to his neck. "I still do, though."

Hastily retreated and yet hastily returned. Katrin, Septa and maid in tow, return to the general area after having disappeared off for business. As she walks, her Septa, Mira, keeps a steady discussion going, most likely something of distaste for the Haigh noblewoman given the slight wrinkling of her nose. But she inclines her head and murmurs affirmation each time the elder woman pauses to take a breath.

That reaching for his neck that Martyn does gains a faint huff of breath from Justin, "Aye, pain in my neck also. Better to get my butt whipped by Ser Hardwicke and a waster than have a real blade cleave me so. You can be certain that I'll practice and practice. Lots more practice." Justin muses, frowning somewhat as he fingers his cup and looks at it. "I miss sparring with Ser Haffrey. I thought him a good teacher."

"Yes, getting hit by real blades there is… quite painful, to say the least," Martyn replies, before he adds, "And there's only so much damage that your armor can prevent too…" Glancing around for a few moments, as if checking if someone is nearby. Pausing as he sees Katrin and her entourage, offering them a bit of a nod.

With a polite bob of her head, Katrin seems more than grateful to break away from her Septa to rejoin Justin and company. "Good afternoon," she greets. Her Septa looks a bit cross at having been cut off so abruptly but bows in greeting as well.

"Oh, I remember." Justin leaves his left arm resting on the chair and drinks a little more from his cup, using his right. A scar indents a line through the muscle of his left forearm. He doesn't elaborate upon his answer, instead lifting his eyes to see Katrin returning. "Welcome back, Lady Haigh."

Martyn offers a half-smile to Katrin as she joins them, "Good afternoon, Lady… Haigh, is it?" The name added after Justin said it, before he looks over at the Terrick, nodding a little bit as he notices the scar. "Look forward to more of those later in life…" he offers, a bit quietly.

"Lady Katrin Haigh," the noblewoman supplies for Martyn. "I do not mean to intrude upon you," she says with a smile appearing across her lips. "I had merely been speaking with Lord Justin earlier and felt remiss in that I had to leave our conversation so abruptly."

Justin has a nastier one beneath his clothes along his left side ribs but it's not show and tell, today. So he reamins seated, trying not to move his head around much with his neck so sore. "I'd rather look forward to things more pleasurable in life. A good wife, I can hope, seeing the Roost restored and thriving, hear happy Terrick children in the courtyard, see my father smile." That last one especially might be nice. Justin makes a gesture to the other chairs unclaimed, "I'm sure there's … milder things here to drink. Please be welcome, Lady Katrin." Setting his cup down on the small, low table, Justin stiffly reaches over to pick up a black doubtlet and carefully slip it on, though he doesn't bother securing the clasps. There, now he's more or less dressed and fit for company, right?

"A pleasure to meet you, Lady Haigh," Martyn offers with a bit of a smile and a polite nod. "I'm Ser Martyn Mallister." Taking a sip from his drink, he nods at Justin's words. "Yes, please join us," he offers after a few moments of pause, before he nods to the other man again. "That's what many of us want, that and a smiliar future for ourselves." A brief chuckle, before he adds, "Maybe everyone aside from Ser Kamron, of course. But he's a bit strange like that, my cousin." The last part said with a wide grin and a chuckle.

Katrin hesitates at the edge of the pavilion for a moment but nods and enters further to have a seat. "So kind of you both," she says warmly. "It seems you both have admirable desires for the future," she notes. "Something quite important to aspire to."

Hearing other voices, a house retainer in Terrick colors steps out from the depths of the pavillion. Justin notices them and gestures towards Lady Katrin, "Can you find the lady and her Septa cups, perhaps some hot water for tea, or some mild wine?" He glances to Katrin to speak her preferance, and for her Setpa as well, whom Justin does not ignore. Once the retainer has their requests and moves away to go and seek these things, Justin looks to the Mallister, "Are you married then, Ser Martyn? Have a family of your own?"

Martyn shrugs a little bit at Katrin's words. "It's most of what a man could want," he offers, after a few moments of pause, and another sip of his drink. Looking over to Justin at his question, shaking his head a little bit. "No," he offers after a few moments. "Not yet."

"A tea would be lovely," Katrin offers to the retainer. "I must admit to finding myself somewhat surprised by your words, Lord Martyn," she says, hands folding gently into her lap. "I admit that my own experience with men has been somewhat limited in the capacity to discuss future dreams and ambitions but marriage always seemed so very low on the list of things of any importance."

Justin tastes his cup of whiskey, still treating it lightly and with respect for it's contents rather than knocking it back. "One supposes that depends on the man - and whether or not he is fortunate to get matched with a good woman, or someone … incompatable that makes his life miserable. It could go either way. I expect it's no different for the woman. Woman are more likely to long for children and a home, while we are more inclined to seek lonely places and adventures with our companions, aren't we?"

"Then again most men doesn't really have the misfortune to really know how short life is, I suppose," Martyn replies, one hand going to rub at his neck again, a bit absently. "I must admit that it was low on my list as well, before the war…" Taking another sip of his drink, a small one this time. "But there's always something making a person's perspective change, isn't there?"

"So there is," Katrin agrees with an inclination of her head. "As strange as it may seem, women also seek the same things, My Lords. Adventures, companionship, friendship and love. And while stories have often told differently, we so desperately wish to find a compatible man who is kind and would not seek to take his rage out on his wife." She smiles mildly, while her Septa just looks aghast at such a frank statement.

Katrin's odd statement makes Justin blink, "Take his rage out upon his wife?" As if the very thought couldn't be more foriegn to him, "What kind of man would do such a thing, lest he be truely low born and trapped in misery?" One supposes he just answered his own question. He is a little into his cups, drink making him more relaxed and his tongue looser than usual. But it eases pain and stiffness as well. "I would hope I would never do such a thing, Lady. I would hope that most would not treat the fairer sex with anything less than all due respect. It is a husband's duty to love, protect, and provide for his wife, is it not?"

Martyn nods a little bit as he hears Katrin's words. "Understandable," he offers after a few moments of pause, before he looks to Justin. "Unfortunately, all men… all people have their flaws. For some men, that flaw would include doing something like that, I suppose." Another grimace as he adds, "Some beat their wives, while others beat their squires, I guess. Some might even do both, I suppose." Another sip of drink now.

"Unfortunately, we women here more stories of cruelty from behind closed doors than you might expect," Katrin says, her expression grim. "The greatest fear a woman has is that she might be caught up in such a marriage with no way to free herself from such abuse on a daily basis." She shakes her head and sighs. "It might be a duty, Lord Justin, but not all men honor their duties the way you might."

All that makes Justin frown, still rather young and much of the world he yet does not know. Some of it very ugly. He drinks from his cup, saying nothing more just now, displeased.

Martyn nods a little bit as he hears Katrin's words. "If we were unflawed, we'd be like the Gods themselves, I suppose," he offers a bit quietly. Taking another small sip from his drink.

"Such wise words, My Lord," Katrin says, bobbing her head up and down once more. She smiles. "My apologies for darkening the mood in what is meant to be a festive time." She sighs. "It seems I have a way with that. I have only just arrived. Perhaps you could regale me with stories of daring from the tourney thus far?"

Yes, a change of topic to something, anything at all that's not so depressing is a good move. Justin makes himself sit up more in his chair, "Well… Ser Hardwicke has made us proud, having unseated one of the Freys in the joust. And Ser Kell also, who while he lost to Ser Riordan's most excellant horsemanship and lancework, nonetheless went /seven/ passes ere he fell." Yes, those were the best parts to Justin's mind, though he only saw some of it.

Martyn is unable to hold back a bit of a chuckle now. "I could tell you what goes through the mind of a man in those moments when he's knocked off his horse, but then we'd be back to the part about darkening the mood again." Nodding a bit at Justin's words, "Yes, that's the highlights so far."

"It sounds quite exhilarating thus far," Katrin notes with a nod. "I do wish that I had been able to arrive here much soon." There is a brief darkening of her features before she clears her throat. "Ah, well, as pleasant as it has been to sit and speak with both of you, I am afraid the hour is growing late and I will be expected back soon. May the Gods watch over you."

"There's the melee yet… " Justin shifts his weight in his chair, his neck aching all the muscles down, "I hope it's soon. I can't just stay here too long. Lame horse or not, I'll have to be starting back soon. There's too much to do for me to linger at tourney more than a week or so." What the hell to do about his horse, though? Justin's brow furrows and he thinks about that, "Mayhap, I need to see about borrowing a horse so I may ride it, but pony my own behind. Else I'm going to have a long walk."

"You too, Lady Haigh," Martyn offers with a bit of a nod, before he looks to Justin again. "The walk would probably take you just as long as waiting does," he points out.

Katrin is departing and Justin makes himself stand up to see her off, "Thank you for joining us. My apology that the tea hasn't arrived." Where did that retainer go? Piff.

To Martyn, Justin thins his mouth and nods ere he retakes his seat, "I suppose you are right. I'm not very good sitting around … waiting, with nothing to do."

He adds low, "I'm not like Anais, good at going around talking to everyone to make political arrangements." Justin skims a hand through his dark hair and finishes off his cup.

"Then you should know a bit about how I felt on Harlaw, leading a siege," Martyn offers a bit quietly. "Probably why I made that bad error I did out there. Was going crazy from doing nothing, I guess." A bit of a quiet chuckle, "I guess that's why they say patience is a virtue."

Justin fiddles with his cup, resisting the desire to refill it, "It's why I like to go hunting so often. Certainly we need the meat, but … it's relaxing, distracts me and lets me /do/ something when I have exhausted other things I know to do or try. Refreshes me, to get out away from everything if only for a little while." He sighs, "Then I come back and try again, with everything else."

Martyn nods a bit, unable to hold back a bit of a grin. "You and me both, my friend," he replies, before he moves over to refill his own cup now.

Quiet a long moment, Justin finally asks, "What happened on Harlow? Ser Kamron mentioned … something about your getting into a duel, and he stepped in to save your life when you would have been struck down, Ser."

"That more or less sums it up," Martyn replies, with a bit of a sigh. "We had intercepted a raven for the castle with a message about how many of their strongholds that had surrendered to our armies. I brought Ser Keelin, your brother Jarod and… the one we now know is Lady Rowenna, out to give them the message and a chance to surrender. Lord Rogr Harlaw then challenged me to single combat."

"To end it. But why would you accept, if they were more or less defeated anyway? What did he think he could gain if he beat you? Surely our people wouldn't have simply left him be, after all that had happened?" Justin succumbs and pours himself more of the strong drink as well. "And why did Ser Kamron intervene?"

The last he thinks he knows but Justin asks anyway, seeking to find out more.

"I was thinking back then that he was an old man way past his prime, who was just looking for a way to get out of it without losing his honor," Martyn begins, with a bit of a sigh. Taking another sip of his drink, he grimaces. "I was wrong." A brief pause, before he adds, "As for why he intervened…" Looking around for a few moments, before he continues, "For all everyone speaks of honor, which is a good thing, don't misunderstand that." There's a momentary pause, before he adds, "I think it's just two things. First that what one man sees as honorable, another might see differently, and second the more important fact. Blood is thicker than most other things."

"Maybe," Justin concedes, "But maybe not to my father. I … am having a hard time wrapping my head around some things. I would want to do the honorable thing, but even I admit that it isn't always clear. And the honorable thing could also be very hurtful. I think there needs to be a balance. Things aren't always black and white. So we each must choose for ourselves and I suppose, if we choose poorly, we must live with that. And sometimes, there won't be any good choice to make." He lifts a hand to rub at his brow, "I'm still very angry with my brother, Jaremy. Yet, I hope to see him some day. I'm not sure what father thinks." Fugh. The drink is muddling his mind. Instead of taking another drink, Justin dumps out his cup into the grass and sets the empty back onto the low table.

Martyn nods a little bit. "That's the nature of the beast," he offers after a few moments. "I mean, no matter how others might view Ser Kamron's actions that day, and I know that there's a few people, including Lord Patrek, who thinks he should have done differently…" A brief pause as he looks to the dumped contents of Justin's cup. "That's waste of good drink, you know…" Draining his own glass, he continues. "Anyway, what I'm trying to say is that no matter what, I'm thankful to Ser Kamron for saving my life, even though people might say that he shouldn't have done it." A brief grin, and a quiet chuckle. "Like I said, all men have their flaws. If mine is being thankful for being alive after that, so be it. And like I said when Lady Haigh was here, that experience changed my priorities for the future."

"I suppose there's something to be said for it, if you have gained wisdom and insight from the experience. I'd like to think that if a man intends well, he should be given a second chance, eventually." Well, lest he be a total idiot and did great enough damage the first time. Justin twists his mouth wryly, "It isn't that good a drink." But he pays it no mind and continues, "What about this Rowenna knighted mess? While I'm inclined to praise her for her some things, I can't accept others. And it's a very dangerous precident. I think I heard she even intends to take female squires and 'knight' them. Surely the Seven never intended a woman to so go against the natural order and lead others away into men's work."

"Good with a blade, so I wouldn't pick a fight with her unless it's necessary, if I were you," Martyn replies a bit lightly as he places his own cup on the table as well, then shrugs a little bit. "Well, to sum it up… I don't know…" he replies, with a bit of a sigh.

Justin frowns, "I'd prefer to see her content with a woman's role and give Jarod children. As she hasn't been stripped of her arms, if she has earned them, I can live with that if needbe. But if she goes around recruiting women and thinks to train them to be knights in some new order, I think it will bring wrath down upon her and my half brother. It makes me think she is touched in the head and very foolish. I can't imagine her father standing by and doing nothing, if she pursues that course."

Martyn is unable to hold back a bit of a chuckle, "She pretended to be her brother. Need to be at least a bit foolish for that, right?" He shrugs a little bit now, "I'm sure it won't come to that…" Not sounding fully sure about it, though.

Jerold Terrick's third son shakes his head negatively, "I forsee trouble. Anyway, I'll have none of her. My House has enough problems without sharing that madness." Justin glances aside at his cup, wanting more to drink but he lifts a hand instead to rub tentively at his bruised neck, "When we get back, first thing I need to do get back on track to see if we can lure the bandits." Justin pauses to frown, "Problem is, if we can't get food and seed for planting soon, it doesn't matter how many bandits we catch. There will be hundreds more to take their place."

Martyn nods a bit, frowning a bit. "We'll have to do our best and then see what happens, I guess."

Justin goes quiet, his thoughts turning back to things he might try to do. Things he's mulled over a thousand times already, like a dog chasing it's tail. Then he pushes himself up from his chair, "I'm … tired. Enjoy the drink, Ser Martyn." Justin picks up his swordbelt from another chair where he had left it and walks on out of the pavilion to wander off by himself to do whatever he's of a mind to do. Or go to some other place and sleep off his drink, perhaps.