| Humor on the Rocks |
| Summary: | Laughter and discussion on the rocky beach under Four Eagles Keep. |
| Date: | 25 Apr 2012 |
| Related Logs: | None |
| Players: |
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| Coastline - Terrick's Roost |
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| The Cape of Eagles looms out over Ironman's Bay, a vast, blue ocean inlet, that spreads its watery depths out beyond the horizon. The path that leads down to this coast winds down behind the towers for several hundred meters before arriving at the rocky water's edge. Rather than sand, the coast is covered with innumerable smooth and rounded stones about palm-sized. They stretch up and down the coast in all directions with the battered remnants of driftwood scattered about. Above the beach, one every mile or two, are towers with a large bell and mallet atop them which are to be beaten to warn of an incoming invasion. A small dock is being constructed of thick northern timbers, with mooring space for two large ships, or perhaps a half dozen smaller craft. |
| 25 April 289 |
The Cape of Eagles in the summer is a beautiful place, and even someone as busy as Kamron has kept himself has to take a moment to just enjoy the view. The sun is shining brightly, but out here, this close to the water, there's a goodly breeze as well, and so Kamron has found himself a little hollow in the lee of a hillock that protects his back from the wind and allows the sun to soak into his mourning black. His arms are tucked behind his head, leaning back against the hillock, and his voice is whipped away by the wind as he sings some rowdy-sounding drinking song under his breath, ending with, "…and raised on up her legs…"
Having made his way out along the water, Martyn's carrying a book with him, as he makes his way back in the general direction of the town itself. Looking for some peace and quiet, it would seem. He hasn't noticed anyone else, as most of his attention is on the sea for now.
There is a divine reason that Saffron Banefort enjoys walks far from the keep: Mistress Morla is too old to accompany her. The woman instead sends along the Banefort guards—both of whom are happy to let the Banefort daughter relax a bit without the constant complaining from the old stick. She walks ahead of the guards, tidily braiding up her strawberry locks to pull them off her neck. She has bustled up her skirts to allow for easier movements, and she carries her boots in her hand, leaving her feet bare. Her boots swing back and forth as she strides, humming a much more approving song under her breath as she approaches the hillock. A coastal breeze comes up and tousles her shorter forelocks into her eyes.
Kamron cocks his head slightly to one side as snatches of humming trail along the breezes from behind him, a faint smile touching one corner of his mouth. After all, people trying to sneak up on somone don't usually hum to themselves, so he can figure himself safe enough. And as he opens his eyes (he was enjoying the view of the inside of his eyelids, you see…), they alight on his cousin down below, and his grin broadens, taking over his entire face and setting it ablaze with boyish mischief. Moving quietly, he sits up and searches around for a small rock, finding one and measuring the distance carefully. After a moment, his right arm whips forward, aiming to launch the pebble a good several feet over Martyn's head, so that it will splash down in the water beyond him, hopefully without the other man having a clue where it's come from.
Martyn has been so far into his own thoughts so he hasn't seen Kamron yet. And so, he blinks a bit when the pebble hits the water, before instinct takes over, and he throws himself to the ground, muttering a little bit to himself as he looks around. Staying down there for a little while, just in case.
The quaint plop of stone to water draws Saffron's attention briefly, though it also brings her attention to Martyn. She widens her eyes a bit as he throws himself to the ground, and she feels a sudden closeness to her back as Timmen and Punhah close-up tight behind her. She instinctively takes a step forward, flashing a look over her shoulder with a slight quirk of her brow. Then she steps forward cautiously. "Ser Martyn?" She asks.
Laughter follows the stone as Kamron watches his cousin drop down to the ground, and he himself pops up from his unintended ambuscade. He blinks a moment himself at the call from his right, his laughter cutting off as he flinches slightly from the sudden nearness of two armed men. Apparently people can use someone humming to sneak up on you. Lesson learned.
Martyn pauses as he hears his name. Looking over and seeing who it is, he blinks a few times, before he gets to his feet, looking a bit sheepish. "Lady Saffron. How are you on this fine day?" he asks, one hand moving to get the dust off himself, as he looks around. Frowning a bit as he notices Kamron, he raises one hand to point at the other Mallister, in some kind of a 'just you wait' gesture.
Saffron cannot help but grin broadly at the reaction from the Mallister knight. The two guards exchange looks with one another as they also grin, but they do try their best to smother such expression. She steps forward, clasping her hands behind her back, boots still gripped firmly in her fingers. "Hello, Ser Kam," she greets nonchalantly as she steps closer in toward the Mallister cousins. Then she smiles toward Martyn. "I'm well, Ser Martyn… just out for a walk." And then she slips another glance toward Kamron with the smallest smirk.
Martyn's threat draws a helpless shrug and more laughter from Kamron before he turns to Saffron and her escort, bowing his head in greeting, "Lady Saffron, good day." Up out of his little hollow and in the coastal breeze, his hair shifts and dances like a wheatfield in the wind, and one hand rises up to scrub it back unconsciously, "It's a beautiful day for it, and a beautiful place for it. Is the Banefort anything like this, Lady Saffron?" As he moves over to the two other nobles, he grins at Martyn, "Good reactions, coz. That pebble could have been a volley of arrows." He's not teasing his cousin, no, not at all. And if you believe that, I've got a winter beach in the North to sell you.
"I should throw you into the water, cousin," Martyn offers, with a bit of a grimace. He shakes his head once more, "I was deep in thought, you know." Offered with a bit of a sigh as he looks between the others for the moment. Not saying much right now, as he tries to regain a bit of his composure and dignity.
"It has its similarities," Saffron admits as she looks over the coast, her own hair getting caught-up in the wind despite most of it knotted down in braids. There is a soft moment from the young woman as she considers her home, comparing it to this place. "The beaches are a bit softer, but not by much. With a Myrrish lens, you could almost see Pyke if you wished." Then she looks over toward Martyn with a kindly smile. "If one thing I have learned is the love in a family is only best represented by the jests and jokes, Ser Martyn… I'm sure Ser Kamron is merely expressing that."
Kamron grins at Martyn, "You could try, coz." His crooked smile grows milder as he turns back to Saffron, nodding his head, and chuckling a little at the commentary on the beaches, "I think everywhere but Dragonstone and the Iron Isles has softer beaches, Lady Saffron." It's a fond sort of jab at the Cape of Eagles, with a bit of pride in it as well. "Although I don't know that I would ever wish to see Pyke again, myself." His right hand rises up to rub at the still-pink scar over his right eye — and his left hand unconsciously touches his stomach — as he grins again, "My reminders of there are not particularly fond." Chuckling again, Kam nods his agreement with Saffron's words to Martyn, "I -am- sorry if I interrupted important thoughts, coz." At least that apology sounds honest.
"I'm sure I'll find some way to get my revenge, cousin," Martyn remarks a bit lightly now, before he shrugs a little bit at the mention of Pyke. "I'd rather see Pyke than Harlaw, myself," he admits after a few moments. "But Ser Kamron here first tried leaving his brains, then his blood, in the castle at Pyke, so he's a bit reluctant." Nodding a little bit as he listens now.
It is hard to stop the words once they come flowing out from the pale-skinned Banefort, and she grins all the while as she speaks, "And here I thought that Ser Kamron hadn't much to leave behind in terms of brains, Ser Martyn." And there is a little glint in her pale blue eyes as she smiles to the victim of her jest. Her toes wiggle a bit in what little earth there is about the stone of the beach. Though her smile does lighten a bit. "But its good to see most of you made it back in one piece."
Kamron starts to make a distinctly rude gesture at Martyn's comment about his brains, and then quickly changes it into merely pointing at his cousin, a hint of red touching his cheeks for just a moment. "Of course you prefer Pyke to Harlaw… so do I, and I'm not even the one who got the seven hells beaten out of him on Harlaw." Good job, dummy, you just cursed in front of a lady. He shrugs a little helplessly, then gapes at Saffron, "Hey!" Laughter lurks just behind the surface of the protest, "I'm the only one allowed to make fun of my intelligence or lack there-of, Lady Saffron." The laughter comes out full-force then, and he shakes his head in amusement. "Although apparently my cousin here thinks he can get away with it too."
"Well, he doesn't anymore," Martyn offers in agreement with Saffron, offering a bit of a chuckle. "But most of us made it back in one piece, yes…" Going quiet for a few moments now, before he grimaces again at the mention of getting the seven hells beaten out of him, one hand going to his neck for a few moments, almost automatically. "It was never the seven hells, cousin. Think you managed to pull me out of there while I was looking for the stairs from the sixth…" A bit of a grimace there. "My worst error of judgement ever, I think…"
Saffron grins while her pale eyes reflect her own mischief at the Mallister knight's reaction to her words. She merely responds in a rather airy, nonchalant note, "I only point out the facts as I see them, Ser Kam… if I'm mistaken, I'm certain you are capable of proving me wrong." And she gives him the quickest little grin before she sombers up a bit, looking toward Martyn. "It was a close call for you then, Ser Martyn? I'm afraid that I was traveling during much of the end of the fighting, and needless to say the state of the Roost and the loss of Ser Etin occupied much of my time." Again, there is very little grief in her voice at the mention of her faceless betrothed.
Kamron sobers up at Martyn's mention of the fallen from the Iron Isles, nodding his head slowly. He shakes his head at Martyn's words, "Everybody gets one. You've had yours. Me, I'm still due a horrible lapse in judgment." That brings his grin back, as does Saffron's words. He holds up his hands, "I yield, Lady Saffron, I yield. I know when I'm beaten." He doesn't -sound- beaten, but he's not about to get into an insult contest with a lady. His features carefully smooth over at Saffron's mention of her late betrothed, and he allows Martyn to respond to her question before stating, "I'm sure that Lady Anais finds great comfort in your presence, Lady Saffron."
"It was a rather close call, yes. I was stupid enough to accept a challenge of single combat, by someone who had…" Martyn begins, before he offers a momentary grin. "Well, he had a rather unfair advatange, really." He offers a bit of a smile at Kamron's words about Lady Anais finding comfort in Saffron's presence, before he adds, "Isn't her brother here as well? I think I met him one of my first days here…"
"I will take that win, Ser Kamron… 'til we meet again on the field of verbal sparring." And Saffron is all grins for a moment longer until she sobers once more. Her gaze turns toward Martyn to listen to his tale and then she shifts her attention between the pair. "But you are still standing with us here, Ser Martyn, so you must not have failed." Then she furrows up her brow a bit at the mention of one of her other cousins. "I hadn't heard of that, Ser Martyn, but I've had little time to really see my cousin. I'm sure my presence gives her comfort, but we are rarely in sight of each other. The Lady of the Roost is not an easy position, it would seem."
Kamron smirks at Martyn's words, "You mean a sword half again the size of yours and full plate armor? Not to mention twenty more years experience? At least?" He shakes his head slowly, although Saffron's comment to his cousin causes his levity to fade, and he shifts his shoulders uncomfortably. Still, it's Martyn's story to tell if he wants to, so he merely nods and moves on to the next topic, "I heard something about that, but I don't believe I've met him. But yes, even helping my father run a small tower like Talon Point keeps my mother quite busy. If Lady Anais would allow yourself and Lady Muirenn to help some more… but I suppose she's still trying to secure the approval of her new family, so she doesn't want to ask for help."
Martyn shakes his head a little bit at the two. "No, cousin. The unfair advantage was…" His expression goes from serious into a wide grin for a few seconds. "That he was winning!" That's said a bit lightly, with a chuckle. He then shakes his head at Saffron's words. "I failed. Thankfully, there was someone there who saved my life, at great risk of his own…" Nodding a little bit as he hears the rest of it. "No offense intended, Lady Saffron, but your cousin… Torsten wasn't it? He's not the most charming person I've ever met."
Saffron smiles easily then at the pair of Mallisters, inclining her head a bit. "Well, I'm sure we are all very thankful for your savior, Ser Martyn." Then as her cousin's name is dropped, she gives a small burst of laughter. "Oh yes, Torsten! I had heard he was on his way, but I haven't had the chance to meet him." And then she gives a relaxed smirk. "I'm not sure if Anais would agree that he is the most charming or even always charming, but siblings have very slanted views on their own. I know I would be hard-pressed to compliment my oldest sister, for instance."
Kamron chuckles at Martyn, "Yes, quite unfair." Saffron's mention of his savior, however, twists his lips into a slightly bitter grimace, "Not everyone is so thankful, Lady Saffron. Lord Mallister is, I'm sure, glad that Martyn is alive, but not so glad of the method, for one." Shaking off his bitterness, a grin twists his lips again, "You, Lady Saffron? I may have to sally forth onto the field of verbal sparring once more if you cannot manage to compliment your own sister, as I will have misjudged my opponent."
Martyn nods a little bit as he hears that, nodding a bit at Kamron's words. He then pauses for a few moments, before he adds, "I have no problems complimenting my sister. But then again, it's not that normal, I suppose."
"Oh," Saffron says to Kamron with the most open of expressions, "I'm certain she is a wonderful judge of character, and her findings are always presented earnestly especially if its about the gap between your teeth or the way you stick your tongue out when you're concentrating on something. She also very gracefully walks around, especially if its on the backs of others, particuarly the stronger sex." Then she takes one excited step forward, her hands coming together to show some kind of well-acted excitement. "I could go on for days about her." And then she covertly winks to Kamron before she looks to Martyn. "Your sister is Lady Muirenn, is she not?"
Kamron snorts at Martyn, "You have it easy." Saffron's litany of near-compliments draws a smirk, a chuckle, and then full, easy laughter in turn. He bows his head in response to them — and the wink, "Now let me guess… no gap between your teeth, so you must stick your tongue out when you concentrate, Lady Saffron." There's a triumphal grin on his lips, causing his grey-blue eyes to glitter with mischief. He, Martyn, Saffron, and two Banefort guards (one tall and thin, the other short and round) stand in the last patch of grass before the true shingle of the beach, talking and laughing easily enough.
A rider approaches on a pale horse. As it's close by town and within sight of the towers, the rider comes alone and doens't seem too concerned about bandits right in this close. Justin does see that there are others already out here. He shifts his weight in the saddle subtly to bring the grey gelding down from the lope to a trot and then as he draws nearer to the break that drops down to the sea, slows to a walk. The wind that blows in from the salt water ruffles his dark hair as well as his horse's mane. It is not a direct line he takes to join the others, but rather follows the path that would eventually take him down below and to the dock under construction. It's a not a beach a horse would relish tredding and even the path down might be tricky in places. Justin stops the gelding at the edge of the height, not far from the others, to look down and across the water.
"I do," Martyn replies, with a bit of a smile at Kamron's words. He then nods at Saffron, "That is correct." Nodding a little bit as he looks around for a few moments, pausing as he sees the approaching rider. Studying the man for a few moment, seemingly without realizing who it is.
The Banefort daughter just grins for a moment before she shakes her head. "I do not have a gap between my teeth, but I do happen to stick out my tongue but only when needleworking is involved. Its my youngest sister who has the tooth gap, and she's become very self-conscious about it." Even as she speaks to Martyn now she draws her gaze off toward the approach of Justin Terrick, her head slightly tilted. "I enjoy your sister's company, she is a very lively young woman. She seems to be only somewhat unhappy to have been sent to the Roost."
Kamron inclines his head to Banefort lady's admission, shaking his head in mock sorrow at the tale of her younger sister before he puts in, "I'm sure she is still quite lovely despite — or perhaps even because of — the fact, Lady Saffron." He looks over to Martyn as the man shifts his attention elsewhere, then follows his glance up toward the descending Terrick, raising a hand in greeting but not deigning to call out across the distance. Looking back to his partners in conversation, he adds, "Have you both met Lord Justin Terrick? He is currently a squire in search of a knight." The younger Mallister's eyes cut over to Martyn at that, one eyebrow lifting slightly.
Justin looks to the beach, studying it as well as the path down. The larger rounded stones would be uneasy footing but the most of it looks to be palm sized gravel composed of flattish rounded stone. The gelding could handle that and his rider looks as though he will try it. Justin urges the grey to start forward, walking slowly to pick his way. A lift of his gaze catches the wave from Kamron and he lifts an arm to return it. Rather than take the decent at once, the young Terrick brings the gelding around to meander closer in their direction along the top of the bluff. The wind is occationally strong, yet pleasant enough. When he draws nigh, Justin raises his baritone, "Greetings. Pinicing?"
"That's good to hear, Lady Saffron. I think the thing my sister misses the most here would be our parents. We're all very close," Martyn offers, before he nods a bit at Kamron. "I've met him," he replies, turning to offer a bit of a half-wave in Justin's direction as he approaches, "Lord Justin."
"I find her quite stunning for one so young, but that is probably why she said that to begin with." There is just the slightest hint of bitterness in regards to her older sister, but she does not focus on it long. Saffron instead looks back to the rider. "I believe we have met, but I've met so many lately that I'm losing track." Though she does flash a smile up toward Justin as he approaches. Then she inclines her head to him with a slight tilt at her lips. "Good day, Lord Justin."
Kamron nods as Justin approaches, also parroting, "Lord Justin." He shakes his head, however, at the question that greets them all, "Before we found one another's conversation so interesting, I was enjoying the scenery — which is to say checking my eyelids for leaks — Ser Martyn was thinking deep thoughts, and Lady Saffron was enjoying a walk," his eyes narrow slightly and he leans to one side, peeking around behind the young woman, "without, it would seem, her shoes. I'm certain that the esteemed Mistress Morla would be most horrified, Lady Saffron." Mock concern and disappointment practically drips off his tone, only to be caught up by a grin at the end.
Justin's mouth eases into a slightly lopsided smile at what Kamron says. He halts his horse and moves to dismount before he speaks again, "Lord Martyn, Lord Kamron," and there he hesitates, to incline his head back to the young woman, "I have seen you at the tower courtyard though I do not believe we have been introduced, Lady …?" Yes, he can't help but glance down at her feet. Justin looks amused, holding his horse's reins loosely. The grey is calm, dropping his head to crop the grass - nevermind he's got a bit in his mouth. Justin gives the reins a light tug to raise the gelding's head back up and keep him from making a mucky mess of his bridle and reins.
Martyn shrugs a bit as he listens. Keeping quiet for the moment at he listens to the others, moving the book he's been carrying from one hand to the other now. Return of the deep thoughts, it would seem.
"You're merely jealous that you can't take your shoes off and walk around with the daint and grace that I can, Ser Kamron," though she does look a little pink at her ears as she shuffles her shoes around behind her. "I'm sure you won't go tattling on me, though." And obviously the silent guards behind her have no intention to either—they'd get in trouble for not telling her to keep them on anyway. Alliances are forged to keep Mistress Morla from finding out a lot of things, it would seem. Then she looks over to Justin with a simple smile and incline of her chin once more. "Lady Saffron Banefort. I am Lady Terrick's cousin."
Kamron sniffs at Saffron's 'challenge,' rolling back to sit down and hoisting up one foot to start tugging at his boot. He stops in his task as Justin notes that he hasn't been introduced, opening his mouth to do so, only to have Saffron steal his thunder, such as it is. He gets one boot off, balling up the stocking beneath and tucking it into the boot, and then starts on the other, "Don't mind Ser Martyn, he's just planning up suitable revenge on me. Don't ask -me- what for, though. I'm the soul of decency and manners." Getting his second boot off, he pulls off that stocking as well, and wiggles his toes, "or the sole."
Justin for an instant likely thinks of his mother as Lady Terrick. He blinks and it takes him a second to change tracks before he nods, "Ah, yes, cousin to Lady Anais. I've met her, and what little we spoke, she made a good impression." He might say something more but changes his mind. Justin's gaze moves past her to Martyn, then to Kamron taking off his boots. Justin huffs a breath in a silent chuckle ere he adds, "Careful there, Lord Kamron. If I have learnt anything of women at all yet, it is dangerous to take them up on their challenges. You're liable to loose your boots."
"Don't worry, Lord Justin," Martyn replies. "It'll be a good lesson for him if he does…" Looking to said boots for the moment, his expression a bit thoughtful. Listening to the others for the moment, shaking his head a little bit absently. And one hand going to his neck again, for some reason.
Saffron starts laughing as Kamron commits himself to taking off his boots, and she has to bring a hand to her mouth to smother away the threat of actual giggles. She rests her hand to her cheek to allow ease of speech. "You should listen to Lord Justin, Ser Kamron… we women are wiley ones." Though she does elevate herself a bit on the balls of her feet, sobering a bit. "Not me of course… I have no wiles." Then she looks back over to Justin with a grin. "Yes, sorry… Lady Anais. I have become so use to calling her Lady Terrick as it nearly makes her hair stand on end. She's been feeling a bit stressed as of late."
Kamron balls up his second stocking and throws it at Martyn's chest, "I said we're all allowed one big mistake. Let me make mine, coz. And stop thinking about Harlaw." That last is a bit more serious, although his smile is back by the time he looks over to Justin, "Don't worry, Lord Justin, I'll keep a good grip on my boots." He turns them over in his left hand to display the mild heels on them, "I need all the height I can get in most company." Saffron's giggle-fit draws a full laugh from him, and he merely shakes his head, "Do not wrong yourself, Lady Saffron. I'm sure you can find some wiles if you search for them." The more sobering subjects, however, follow on, and he hauls himself to his feet, scrunching his toes into the sparse grass.
The grey horse stands quietly, Justin having stepped into the lee of the animal to let the gelding block some of the wind coming from the sea. "These have been stressful times, Lady Saffron. But she is not alone here and should not feel she needs bear the burdens by herself." Heh, Ser Kamron wadded up and threw a sock at Ser Martyn. Justin's pale eyes are bright and he almost laughs at the antics, but not quite. He falls silent, looking out to the pebbled beach below and the sea beyound. Perhaps he thinks of the recent fighting and the isles he was unable to go and see with the others who fought there. Whatever is upon his mind Justin doesn't share.
<FS3> Martyn rolls Reaction: Failure.
<FS3> Kamron rolls Marksmanship: Good Success.
Martyn blinks a bit at the thrown stocking, attempting to catch it, but misses the catch so the stocking hits him in the chest. Letting it fall to the ground, he shakes his head a bit. "Harlaw? What makes you think I'm thinking about Harlaw?" Spoken rather hastily it would seem. "I was thinking about what to do with those boots of yours, cousin. I can smell them all the way here…"
There is another small hint of pink on the Lady's cheeks now but she shakes her head as she focuses on the sobering conversation, and she nods her head gently. "Banefort was besieged as well, but the Roost appears to have suffered much more. I know my father, our House's Master of Arms, has said that smallfolk and those untrained suffer the most when war befalls them. I'm sure no one expected it to come to their doorstep." Her gaze shifts toward Martyn and Kamron, and she gives the latter a soft tutting that is painfully reminiscent of Mistress Morla.
Kamron steps forward as Martyn misses the stock and lets it fall, gingerly making his way across the rocks of the beach to pick up his wayward stocking. He's helped a bit by a brief gust that sends it tumbling like dry brush up toward him. Straightening up again, he gives an ostentatious sniff at the top of his boots, "They smell like leather and feet, coz." If Martyn wants to shake off the memories, Kam's more than willing to let him, apparently. He shrugs helplessly at Saffron's tut-tutting, stuffing his stocking-missile into the top of his unstockinged boot as he does, "Your father spoke true. We knights may be at the forefront of battle, but our homes are enclosed by walls, unlike those of the smallfolk, Lady Saffron."
"Aye, and our responsibility to see to the welfare of our smallfolk who have so suffered." Justin looks back towards Terrick's Roost, his mind ever upon those problems since he returned home. He frowns, then turns to tug his horse's head back up when the gelding tries once more to get some of the grass. "I think I will ride the beach for a while, to think. Enjoy your outting, Lady Saffron, Sers." Justin remounts his horse in preparation to move on, liking time to himself to think - in places away from walls.
Martyn shrugs a little bit now, nodding at Justin as he hears the man. "Take care, Lord Justin," he offers, before he turns to look out to the sea again for a while. "I think I know what's needed now…" he mutters, mostly to himself.
Speaking of dreaded caretakers, here she comes in all her fury—Mistress Morla herself. She is staggering, threatening to break a hip, shouting over the winds for the Lady Saffron to come to her. Her words might be hard to discern, but its meaning is clear: someone is in trouble. "Seven Hells," she mutters under her breath and then speaks louder to the two Mallister knights. "If you will excuse me, Sers…" Going ever more pink, Saffron starts to move with great haste toward the woman. A boot gets dropped in the process; she had said something about grace and daint, but Mistress Morla frightens that all away in an instant.
Kamron looks up at the sound of shouting, giving Justin a totally distracted farewell wave. His hands twitch on his boots as if the mere presence of the governaness was enough to make him want to put them on, but he tucks them back behind his back far more casually than he probably feels. Bowing his head to the Banefort, he graces her with, "Of course, Lady Saffron." Feeling his way carefully across the rocky beach to stand beside Martyn, "A pity her family is already connected to the Terricks, isn't it, coz? She might be a good match for you."
"Of course, Lady Saffron," Martyn echoes Kamron's words, wincing a bit at the sight of the Morla. Pausing a little bit as he hears Kamron's words. "For me?" he asks, after a few brief moments. "Seems she really likes you, though…"
Kamron blinks at Martyn, looking back over his shoulder and then wincing, "Too bad. That's one terrifying chaperone. I think I might rather face Rodrik Greyjoy risen from the sea than face that one when she's angry." He shakes his head, "But that's not the life for me, I don't think. Not if I can help it. Besides, like I said, her family's already connected to the Terricks." He draws in a long, slow breath, and then his sobered features turn towards more serious topics, "What do you think of Ser Gedeon's choice to face Ser Stiff-neck?"
"Too bad, you two would have made quite a happy couple, even with the chaperone," Martyn remarks, with a bit of a grin. He then shrugs a bit at the mention of Gedeon and the duel. "Brave…" he replies, after a few moments of pause. "Let's hope he wins, for more reasons than one…" Looking a little lost in thought as he looks out to the sea again.
Kamron snorts softly, "She's damned near as tall as me." He nods his head slowly, "If he wins, the Naylands'll still strip Stonebridge to the bone. If he loses, the Naylands get to keep the town." He reaches up to rub at his temples with the hand not holding his boots, "I wish he'd thought to make it to first blood." A grimace lights his features, "But I bet that if he'd lost the combat to first blood, the damned Naylands would claim that he couldn't inherit because he was a liar and a traitor." He lets out a long, slow breath, "I suppose we'll have to trust to the Seven and to the strength of Ser Gedeon's sword arm."
Martyn nods, "Not much more to do, I fear…" He looks a little bit lost in thought, as he sighs. "Besides, this way, if he wins, there'll be one less troublesome person to have to deal with." A brief pause, and a grin as he attempts to give a light punch to his cousin's shoulder. "Hey, thanks for making me look like a fool, by the way." Spoken a bit lightly.
Kamron rocks slightly under the punch as he stands alongside Martyn, out on the rocks closer to the edge of the sea. The blow forces him to step out, and he winces a little as his own bare feet find a the hard edge of a rock. "Ser Stiffneck -is- the most dangerous of them, save perhaps Lady Tordane herself. But -I- didn't make you look like a fool. I just meant to surprise you. -You- made yourself look like a fool by ducking like you were under the bow." He chuckles softly, shaking his head, "But you wouldn't look a fool to a warrior, coz. Better to be a little dirty and foolish than pierced by an arrow or four."
"Like I said, I was in deep thoughts," Martyn remarks, sighing a little bit to himself. "And you did succeeed in surprising me…" Before anything can be said about what kind of thoughts, he sighs a little bit. "I should go take care of a few things…"
Kamron arches an eyebrow, then simply nods, reaching out to clap his cousin on the shoulder in a companion-ly way, "Don't think too hard. Wouldn't want the ropes and pullies up there to start smoking." His grin flashes, and then is gone again as quickly as it arrived, his next words a great deal more serious, "And let me know if it's anything I can help with."
Martyn snickers for a few moments, at that comment about smoking ropes, before he goers serious again. "Sadly, I think this is something I need to deal with myself, but I'll keep that in mind," he replies, before he makes a hasty retreat now.
Whatever transpired between Mistress Morla and the young Banefort Lady is enough to send a slightly tousled-looking Saffron back along the coast with the kind of firm and strong footfalls of a woman fuming. It is lucky her hair is already read or it would have merely set on fire. Her boots are neither on nor in hand, and she gives the slight pinch of the stone to the bottom of her soles not a care. Behind her, trotting and bounding after her are her two guards. "I have no need for either of you!" She shouts over her shoulder, and Timmen actually pauses a moment as if considering the cost of actually giving the girl some space. They seem to commit to a slower approach, while keeping their charge at least in sight.
Kamron shakes his head in half wonderment and half amusement as Martyn makes his way off. Bending down to pluck up a flat stone, he hefts it a few times, then turns side-long to the water and wings it low and flat over the waves, doing his best to skip the stone over the slightly choppy water. The banner of red hair draws his attention, and he glances first to the guardsmen following, then shakes his head slightly, shifting his attention back to the blazing redhead. Taking a couple of steps in her direction so he doesn't have to raise his voice over the breeze, he inquires, "Troubles, Lady Saffron?"
<FS3> Kamron rolls Marksmanship: Good Success.
The two guards maintain their sight on their charge while talking in hushed whispers between one another; Timmen gestures at the woman, catching sight of Ser Kamron. He sort of shrugs at him and shakes his own head. Saffron has set her guards to ignore as she continues forward, stopped only by the knight's own approach and words. She inhales deeply, and the exhale flares her nostrils in what could be quite cute if not for the womanly rage on her expression. "No," she starts, though the lie is said through terse lips. "That is, yes… but I doubt you'd understand being hounded to death by a woman who prepared your sister so well she was married to a Lannister, and by the Seven, she's not going to see you running around without your boots on and sticks in your hair." This is all said in that sort of quick, slightly pitched voice of a ranting woman, though it does end in another deep inhale. "Or is there more I don't know about you?"
Kamron has seen the charge of ironborn reavers, rage that's not directed at him isn't going to make him flinch (at least since marriage hasn't been mentioned in relation to him). Still, his eyebrows rise on his forehead at the sheer fury being displayed, doing his best to keep a little grin from gathering at one corner of his lips. In fact, he's almost successful. "I bet there is more you don't know about me, Lady Saffron…" That grin builds a little further, "…but nothing like that. The nearest I came was was seeing my sister hemmed in my Septa Anathe. And that was not the most heated of efforts, either, considering that my sister was usually quite content to do what the good Septa required of her." Not 'requested,' not 'suggested,' but 'required.'
The redhead crosses her arms firmly at her chest, fingers twisting against the dark wool of her sleeves. She catches the formation of that grin, and she gives a small scowl that isn't all that earnest, but at least presented all the same. She keeps her gaze focused sternly on the Mallister, ensuring that her guards are kept rightfully behind her where her gaze won't burst them into flames. She shakes her head a bit as she steps forward. "Well, I am not a woman of meeting demands nor requirements… that's what my sisters were for… I was hardly given an ounce of attention from my mother nor any other guardians… and now, I'm being chased about with a crop and wedding dress." And then she finally looks at who exactly she is talking to, and exhales. "Do you have other sisters? Perhaps we can give her to the good Mistress to focus on."
Kamron was enjoying the discussion, and even starting to chuckle a little, until the words 'wedding dress,' at which point his toes curl tight to the stones beneath his feet, and a certain sort of tension sinks into his shoulders. Still, his smile stays on his face (even if perhaps it gets a little forced). It becomes a little more natural as she asks about his family, and he shakes his head, "Just the one, Lady Saffron. And I'm sorry, but I wouldn't throw Nedra to the governess like that." By his tone, that's about the same as 'thrown to the wolves.' "I couldn't in good conscience do that to family."
"Some knight you are," Saffron says in a cool tone, though she offers him an apologetic smile in turn. Then she shakes her head, stepping aside a bit as she undoes her braid and teases her fingers out through the crimson locks. She exhales softly, looking out at the ocean with the slightest tilt of her head. "I probably would feel like a wretch if she was forced to spend time with Morla… probably…" She arches a brow slightly at him as she glances to him in her peripherial. "I saw that," she says simply after a moment, "the way you tightened up… not thrilled by the concept either, are you, Ser Kam?"
Kamron smirks at the commentary on his honor as a knight, shaking his head, "I'm protecting the innocent." There's a pause, "Well, the nearly-innocent." His footing shifts on the stones beneath him at the question, and one shoulder rises and falls in a half-shrug, "No, Lady Saffron, I'm not. I've enjoyed the freedom to find trouble for myself for the last seven years — so far as the bounds of my oaths to House Mallister allow. I know that my fate is to be married off for political benefit, but I'd like to put that off as long as I can." Once more, that bitterness is back, "The way some people talk about Harlaw, I may have actually accomplished that." Despite his words, he doesn't sound particularly happy. A roll of his shoulders, and he's looking back up toward the Keep, "I should probably be getting back to Four Eagles. I'm supposed to show Percy how not to get killed."
Saffron considers the young knight for a moment, those pale cornflower eyes weighing him under a stare that some would say she got from her mother. She turns her gaze back out to the ocean as her thoughts toss about in her head. She would ask him about Harlaw more if she was that type, but instead she nods her head gently. "Perhaps we will find ways to sooth both our troubles, Ser Kamron." She nods her head off to the keep. "I won't be joining you… I'm safer out here." And she gives him a small grin before she turns her attention back out to the ocean which rolls about in the afternoon tide.
Kamron looks over to Timmen and Punbah at the mention of safety, studying them for a moment, and then he nods, "I think perhaps you are, Lady Saffron. Enjoy the afternoon of semi-freedom." He takes a few careful steps up toward the grass, and then gestures back toward the hillock he was on before, "Don't forget your boots…" The words are said with a crooked grin, and then he's off, hobbling the last few steps over the rocks and then moving his way over the grass and toward the Keep.
