|In the Hands of Night|
|Summary:||Cloaked in the thoughts that come with nightfall, Rutger and Danae stand and speak of none of them atop the parapets.|
|Parapets — Tordan Tower|
|Parapety and high!|
|Apr 23, 289|
As night comes and the tower stills itself, one finds his way along the parapets. Eyes looking out over the town he was sent to secured. And utterly fucking failed at. Besides what the moon provides, the torches hung in their sconces add some light to the already dark night. Still, Rutger Nayland stares. Perhaps it is out of muted anger or who knows what, but- he finally does look down and unclenches his fist.
It is up the stairs that Danae creeps as well, a blurry eyed maid following her several steps behind likely pulled out of bed by her lady's prowling. The moon casts her already fair hair in skin in shades of silver and blue, only to be broken by the flickering flames of the torchlight held in the sconces. In a whisper of skirts and silk, she takes a place next to the Naylnd lord at the edge of the parapets, sharing his gaze down upon the town. "Things always look so different at night," she murmurs in place of greeting.
There is a look over his shoulder to the sound of silk kissing the stone. But, he doesn't turn to fully look upon Danae. Not just yet. Instead he simply bows his head in a half greeting before he looks back out. "Indeed they do, Lady." Rutger finally replies. "Shadows seem to loom like a damned harbinger right in the scope of your eye. And the wind makes maelstroms out of breezes." A tilt of his head "What doesn't change, is below. All of this, no matter who owns it, remains the same."
Her gaze flits towards him, acknowledging that barest of greetings beneath the deeper shadows of case by silvery lashes. Danae leans against the solidly hewn edges of the parapet, rising silently onto her toes that her arms might settle comfortably at the top of its lines. "The night brings out what lays silent during the day. The sounds that are ignored, the shapes left unseen…" Crickets chirp softly as if answering her observation, humming sweetly. She smiles down at the city, but it is not a happy look. "All the graces of our birth, but the land remains to the hands that have sown it. Do you wish that it would change?"
A faint smile shows on Rutger's lips as the lady comes closer. And he moves, as if to invite her into the space, before he looks on Danae. Gaining as good of a sight as her firelit profile will show for itself. " Oh, I would not have it change. Not hands, not stones. Not it's people. I like it how it is. Right now you see the peacefulness of it. Not the damned lines drawn in the mud and blood." A half shrug there before he is looking back to Danae, allowing his pale eyes to wander as they will.
"We met the other night. Lady Westerling, is it not?"
The flicker of firelight sketches the lines of an aquiline nose and broad mouth, finished with a pointed chin, leaving her skin washed in the deep blues of the evening. Blonde curls look more like spun silver in the moon light, catching in those breezes come hurricanes in the dark. "Yet, you still see such harbingers in the shadows? Perhaps I should not question the minds of men, the evening twists all questions," Danae demurs.
"We did, and it is, Lord Nayland. I believe you were stolen for a dance before we had much chance to speak."
Such a sight normally would inspire poetry, and make weaker men fall to their knees, one would guess. Rutger however stares intently for a moment, taking in the details that only the light of night can give on a person. "I see everything in the night, My Lady. I would claim to be superstitious, but I am not. I only know what horrors I have seen on the field of battle. And those are enough to trouble me when I am alone and facing the terrors of the night." A pause. "But, I also see the beauty in which the night presents things."
A nod of his head, as if to indicate his compliment's target. " And this is true. I wish we had more time to talk. Though the dance was wonderful. I find a good partner in conversation, as equally thrilling."
There is hardly such power of that in her visage, merely a woman however the moonlight may coat her, it would do the same to any other. Danae's gaze remains directed towards the town below for another long moment, the glow of lanterns appearing to be pinpricks from the parapets' heights. "I am sorry that they choose to follow you into your nights then, my lord," she offers softly, looking to Rutger. "No one cares to be alone in the dark."
If Danae catches the compliment, there is nothing in her expression that shows she registers it. It is likely that it is missed entirely. "It is the danger of a ball, I was stolen away by your brother in quite the same fashion soon after. We will have other opportunities — we are speaking now?"
Rutger merely grins back towards Danae, but it is lost in the moonlight. "Thank you, but it is not something easily fixed. Sadly. Nightmares stick where things have fallen off," And there he sniffs, his mouth open as if to continue, but he doesn't. To her own phrase there is a nod. "Indeed." agreed. " Some of us, though have not the option."
A swing and a miss, but that doesn't seem to deter Rutger. "So I noted. I had mind to do so myself, once your dance was finished, but I did not know how you would react to a stranger's hand to your hip."
"Probably more than any might think while alone themselves," Danae muses, dragging a finger along the rough texture of the stone. It has the flavor of a personal observation. "The air helps shake them, I find." Those clinging nightmares. On the subject of the ball, she looks up at him with a blink, mouth curving wryly. "I will say that you would find that an offer and an extended hand would serve you better."
"The air, and wine usually do." he tacts on, before eyes slide back out to the town,or so it seems. Rutger doesn't exactly look away though, either. Instead he watches the lady, until the blink and then the smile that follows. His own amused look echos back before he turns, one arm resting lazily on the parapet. "Perhaps it would." Rutger admits before he straightens, slightly. "But, I hardly knew you. For all that could be said, My Lady. You may have hated dancing."
"Indeed. So I would have only been dancing with the Regent of Stonebridge and your fair brother aside for propriety? Tell me, my Lord, did I look so maligned," Danae wonders, shifting on her toes as she leans her chin against her hand. It is almost too dark to see the flicker of amusement that skirts her features, brightening pale eyes.
The amused look remains fixed there as an eyebrow raises. "I do not know, my Lady. I was swept away, before I could hear how you were coaxed upon the dance floor. For all I know, my brother used his jaw to woo you onto the floor." A grin there widening. "As for did you look maligned? Alas, I could not entirely tell. My Brother is fine at the art of war, but I am afraid your feet may have been maligned with his stomping. You'll find I have some grace-should we dance.
"Perhaps he might have…charming words do come so easily to your brother, my lord," Danae replies, arching her brows in mild repose. "It would not be a mark against his character to judge it so." At his assessment of his brother's skills at the dance, there is a twitch of her lips that nearly pulls that lingering twinkle of mirth fully to the surface. "I shall have to compare the grace of the Nayland brothers then. Should we have opportunity to dance…that is."
"It would if I am judging it, my lady. It is all fine for you, but if he is charming ladies such as yourself. What chance do my words have?" Rutger asks, before there is a grin back to Danae. "I would enjoy that…when the opportunity presents itself." And there he tilts his head. "Besides facing death by trampling, what else does my lady enjoy? I could guess the night air-I could be bold and say my company, but I am not so vain."
"What chance does any one have if they do not ask and act for what they wish?" Danae counters readily, shifting her mild perch on her toes; sweeping a lock of hair back from her shoulder. "Ah — you could be bold, but with little grounds for this is the first time we have properly spoken. The night air is a fine sweet thing, I enjoy the height of the parapets as well. It seems to clear my head, perhaps you find it the same."
A grin breaks on Rutger's face, as if they had a chance to really vanish. "I usually do, Lady Danae. But, I am not some knight who only breaks down doors. I prefer a more honest approach." And there he rocks back on his heels once. "I will save my boldness for a time that will be fitting and a welcome surprise. You may rate it then, if you like." As for the night air Rutger peers back into the dark and he nods. "It does. I will admit. I like the breezes up here."
"So you are honest and bold, my lord? My, that is quite the pairing." Danae shifts her position slightly, easing out of her lean as she watches him rock back on his heels. "I look forward to the opportunity," she drawls softly. The subject of breezes of all things draws a fuller smile from the Westerling lady, turning her attention back at the night as she closes her eyes and just feels the wind trail over her skin. "I do as well. It might be the only thing that reminds me of home in the Riverlands."
DUMP: Liliana looks mournfully at the database.
Rutger offers a sly smile, which neatly slides into an almost innocent look. If a male could even pull that off with a beard. "Some times I am able to be both at once." he muses before there's a look past Danae, and the knight is able to let the silence and nature talk for him here. "You are far from the Crag, Lady Westerling." Rutger notes. "What is it like? I have never seen it-though I have seen the West."
The beard helps hide his innocence and support it in the same measure, leaving his eyes to do much of the work of carrying it off. Danae smiles in turn, her own of a sweeter curve than true slyness. Eyes closed for the moment, she lets the air and the silence settle equally upon her skin. Pale eyes reopen to regard Rutger as he speaks, head tipped to the side. "I would imagine much of the western shores share the same attributes. Those near the Crag are torn by the waves and the rain, sharp with rocks. If you've a taste for nature there are many paths to walk along. Where have you seen, my Lord?"
"With the Royal forces we saw Lannisport, ravaged, but there." And that seems to be the extent of his visit to the Westerlands. "It was war- so my passing was not kind enough. Though I did see a fine sunset- and I can see what makes the land hearty, but beautiful." A grin is given back towards Danae then, as he pushes from the parapet moving closer to the stairs. "Sometimes, I dream of that sunset." he admits before looking back. "And I wish I had a finer reason to enjoy it."
"It is not a mild terrain, no. Its beauty is of a sharper sort," Danae agrees lowly, smiling at the thought of her home. "I am sorry you had not the chance to see it under better circumstance, my lord. The sunrises on the water are far better than the end of any day." Dipping her head in a nod in quiet farewell, she watches Rutger turn to head towards the stair. "Pleasant dreams, my lord."
"Indeed they are, my lady." Rutger agrees. "The same could be said of a lady in the moonlight. I pray the wind clears your thoughts, or brings you home." A bow of his head and the Lord Nayland retires for the night.