|Haigh and Hello|
|Summary:||Danae makes a short visit to the Haigh camp.|
|Haigh Pavilion — Seagard|
|The interior of this pavilion is lavish, clearly intended for a Lord of some sort. It is large enough that a slatted, wooden, divider has been raised down the middle - perhaps in order to lend privacy to those who reside within. On either side of the divider, rugs have been laid down to cover the cold ground. Identical sleeping pallets - far from palacial beds, but still more comfortable than a cot - have been set up, one with red blankets and the other with blue. Chests stuffed with feminine clothing sit in the left-hand side of the tent, and on the far right wall is an armor stand and weapon rack. Each of the two 'rooms' has a small bedside table, upon which sits a jug of wine, several goblets, and a washing-bowl filled with water. Each of the pieces of furniture is light enough to be packed away quickly, but altogether, they present an elegant interior to the large tent.|
|Sun Jun 24, 289|
The Haigh camp is bustling. Katrin reclines outside of her tent, nibbling on a piece of apple as she listens to her Septa talk about Seagard and its general history. Every now and then, the Haigh offers a quiet, "Mmhmm," or throws in a nod of her head to at least appear as though she is listening but her eyes are focused elsewhere.
In the bustling the fold of the Haigh camp, the Lady Danae Tordane draws little enough attention in her drab, black gown and simple coif of hair. Her soft spoken and proper inquiries direct her towards where Katrin reclines, an ever present guardian in Tordane colours following her like a shadow. Hands clapsed at her waist, around a small item, she pauses on the perimeter of the scene and offers an inquisitive, "Lady Haigh?" The title is both a greeting and question, smile slight and soft on her lips.
As her name is spoken, Katrin blinks once, then twice, before she jolts upright and smoothes out the folds of her gown. Her fingers fumble for a moment over the apple slice before it carelessly falls to the ground. "Lady Tordane," she speaks quietly. "I…" She looks around. "Were you lost, My Lady?" she asks, sounding more than a little confused.
"Hardly lost," Danae answers gently, sweeping into an elegant curtsey once it is clear that she has in fact found the correct Haigh. "I know we are not acquainted, my Lady, for all that I have the pleasure of knowing a number of your kin, however…" She pauses, dippng her tilting her chin to better meet Katrin's gaze. "I hope you will not think me impudent, but I heard of the accident at Lady Saffron's tea from Lady Lucienne and I have some talent in balms." Her hands are lifted, revealing a small and delicately painted tin, coated in wildflowers. "I hoped it might help your burn."
The very mention of the burn has Katrin lifting a hand to try and cover the mark across her cheek. "You are very kind," she replies with a faint smile. "Please do sit, My Lady," she encourages. "I offer you my regrets and apologies for the early passing of your Lord Husband. I have never had the opportunity to do such immediately following his death."
From somewhere down the camp, someone is indecorously calling, "Katrin? Katrin!"
"This will help with any scarring," Danae promises gently, watching Katrin's motions with sharp blue eyes. "It works well, as my own knight will no doubt attest." The burn cream is passed along to an attendant, who will no doubt see that Katrin has it whenever she wishes. In a sweep of black skirts, she takes that offered position, elegantly folding herself into the seat and smoothing her skirts. The two ladies sit outside one of the Haigh tents, Katrin's earlier slice of apple taking residence on the earth. "My thanks for such, Lady Katrin. It was a…busy time following his passing, Seven rest him," she murmurs, gaze soft as she places a hand over her heart. Her spin stiffens at the shouting, pale brows lifting as she looks to Katrin.
"I am certain my Septa will be pleased for the assistance in ensuring I do not scar," Katrin replies to Danae with a faint smile. She considers the fair haired woman for a moment and seems ready to speak further but stiffens as her name is called. "Uh oh…" she mumbles and rises to her feet. "Ah, Serra, would you go see who is calling for me?" she asks of her maid who gives a small curtsey and promptly runs off in the direction of said shouting.
Harlyn catches the maid on the far side of the camp - oh, not literally, just with a smile and a come hither. The smile fades once the maid is close, though. "Your mistress and I need to have a few words, hmm?" He leans around the tent he's positioned against. "Do let her know I'm on my way."
"I do hope it isn't anything too dire," Danae demurs gently as Katrin sends her maid to see what the distrubance is about. She clasps her hands delicately in her lap, observing the situation with mild interest. She offers the other lady a light smile.
"I must admit that I hope the same, My Lady," Katrin replies, watching until her maid is out of sight. She regards Danae for a moment and then clears her throat. "How might I be of assistance to you, Lady Tordane?" she asks. "I must admit that the fact you have sought me out does intrigue me," she muses. "But I do welcome the visit, of course." Serra skids to a halt and dips a curtsey to Harlyn. "Of course, M'Lord," She gushes. "But… M'Lady Katrin is with Lady Danae Tordane at the moment," she warns.
"Splendid!" Harlyn says, with a brilliant smile. "Perhaps you can put in a whispered word about half-nude visitors to the camp while I'm on my way, mm? But we will talk properly about all that later. I am meanwhile fascinated to discover Lady Danae's intent." He clasps his hands behind his back and begins his approach.
Danae graciously inclines her chin under the Lady Haigh's regard, smiling mildly as the Lady looks her fill. "It seemed due time to make your acquaintance, Lady Haigh. Rather unfortunately, due to the circumstances of my husband's death I have found myself rather lacking in courtesies and am trying to remedy such."
"But of course," Katrin says with a nod. "You do me honor by seeking me out for a visit," she muses, sounding almost amused by the very fact. "I did not know your husband long but I thought him a good, honorable man." Her expression dims a little. "He did not deserve to die in such a way. I could only imagine the pain you must suffer through on a daily basis to be parted from him so early." Or maybe she doesn't have to imagine given the look on her face.
The maid gives a little curtsey to Harlyn and with an embarrassed flush (half-naked men do have that effect on some women), she runs back toward Katrin.
Harlyn continues his approach, at a rather idle stroll. The maid will reach Katrin well before he does.
"A somewhat dubious honor, I'd imagine," Danae says lightly, fair lashes brushing against her cheeks as she catches the amusement in Katrin's voice. Still, she smiles. "I am glad to finally have the honor of meeting you, however. I have met your younger sister a number of times and found her sweet." Her countenance is calm and practiced, unperturbed by her position or her notoriety "I miss him," she admits after a moment of silence. "He did not deserve such an end, but…I keep him in my thoughts and my heart."
"You have my sympathies, Lady Tordane," Katrin murmurs softly. There is a call from inside the tent. It appears the Lady's sister requires her attention. "My Lady, would you perhaps excuse me? It appears my Lady sister needs me for something."
Harlyn arrives more or less in time for Katrin to be called away. He does, mind, dip a bow toward both ladies. "Lady cousin, Lady Danae."
"Of course, Lady Katrin," Danae returns, rising smoothly to her feet with a gracious dip of her head. She curtsies in greeting to Harlyn. "My Lord. I wish you a good day." It seems she too shall take her leave.
"And you in return," Harlyn says with another, smaller bow, before passing onward.