Page 021: It Starts with A
It Starts with A
Summary: Damara begins to learn to read. Sarojyn is asked not to involve himself with the Southernly Houses.
Date: 02/08/2011
Related Logs: Quiet Moments
Damara Sarojyn 
Parapet and Grand Hall
Tall Oaks Keep
Tue August 2, 288

Parapet Tall Oaks Keep

The roof of Oak Hall is large and fitted for archer stations. Just off the stairs though near the middle is a shaded and roofed Rookery Attached to one side of that is a small building, meant for the Maester on ill nights. But around and overhead rise the great trees of the wood, swaying in the wind and creaking out in their own song. The entire town and area can be seen from this vantage and more. And in the trees should one look, might be spied little roosts. Small platforms for guards and sentries that extend through the woods that guard Tall Oaks.

Upon entry into the Grand Hall, Damara would immediately be stopped by a servant, one who greets her with a slight bow of his head and a murmered whisper of, "Mistress." Then, he's bidding her to follow him and when he turns, he's angling immediately for the stairs that lead to the upper levels of the forest keep. There he continues higher still until he reaches a corridor and a door that looks as if it might lead outside. The door is open and with a slight motion of his hand, the servant offers, "Lord Camden awaits you outside."

And wait he does, for it would seem that Sarojyn has taken the time to have some furnishings set in place on the parapet. A round table and two chairs made from the very same oak that can be seen surrounding them has been placed near to the wall. And on that table, two candles burn, their flames flickering against the gentle breeze that comes with the darkening sky. Set between the candles is an unmarked bottle, along with two glasses which currently rest up-side-down. In front of that, a single leather-bound book has been placed, though it's currently closed.

Sarojyn stands off to the side of the table, eyes cast out over the spanse of tree's and town that can be seen from this particular vantage point. He's forgone his normal 'ranger' attire of leathers and has donned something a little more comfortable. A rich, dark blue button-up shirt covers his upper body, the top two buttons left undone while black pants cover his lower body, the hems of which disappear into knee-high leather boots. A long, flowing cloak is secured to his shoulders and drawn around his body.

The parapet is an odd place to have a lesson where she thought it would be in the hall. Damara steps out onto the roof top, dark auburn hair shifting about her face and slows upon seeing what has been set in place. A faint loft of her brow and she rubs at her arm, dressed in a simple tunic and her woolen pants. She steps closer to the ring of light offered by the candles and watches him for a long moment in silence. She approaches the table to lower a hand to the book, her eyes taking in the glasses and the bottle. "I thought this was a lesson.." Comes the statement to finally gain his attention.

That bottle is given a long stare and then he head draws up, face thrown in that soft glow that reflect in the light haunting eyes. Her head tilts and she smiles faintly. "My Lord." It is an after thought to say it but it passes her lips.

It's only after she's spoken that Sarojyn gives any indication of moving, for one hand lifts from beneath his cloak to motion out over the wall and to the view that this particular place offers. "I thought that the lesson might be better learned amongst the soft whisper of the trees." When the hand lowers, he's turning from his spot at the wall, bringing her to the forefront of his attention. A smile touches upon his lips as he dips a nod of his head towards her, "I hope you do not mind?"

"Whatever my Lord so wish shall be my pleasure but I will no deny a night beneatht he great trees is not appealing." Damara hesitates and then is slow to join him. Coming distantly to his side, she rests a hand on raised portion of the crenellations. Her head tilts and she lifts her head to the whisper of the boughs and leaves above and about. "They never sleep do they? Always something to say.." It is a smile, as soft as it is, it means much. She is home.

"At your time, my Lord, when you would begin." She turns, as if ready for the lesson she has come for. Business as usual.

"I had hoped you would find it appealing, Damara." As she comes to move by his side and then rests a hand on raise portion of the crenallations, he's turning just a touch to look out amongst the trees. The smile deepens upon his lips and for a moment, his eyes close. "They never do. This is a place that I steal myself to when I simply wish to be alone with my thoughts or when I simply wish to enjoy the whispering that the great Oaks have to offer." His eyes open and he looks back to her, one hand lifting to motion towards the chairs, "We shall begin in a moment. First, we shall sit and speak."

Her head tilts to set her gaze on him and Damara nods. "Very well, my Lord." Her hand withdraws from the crenellation and she turns, moving over to pull the chair away from the table and set herself down. She sheds a wary gaze upon the glass and bottle, but it is the book she holds in some anxious regard. The Mistress speaks nothing, setting her hand to lap, the tunic shifted and smoothed into place as she sits at the edge of her seat. the wind stirs her hair about her face. "What is it that my Lord wishes to speak of?" SHe queries.

As she moves towards her seat, Sarojyn heads to the other and once he's settled into place, he's leaning forward so as to claim one of the glasses, tipping it right side up. The bottle is then claimed, the cork pulled from within before he's filling the glass half full. "Wine," is offered as the glass is lifted and then extended in her direction. "Do you remember, years ago, when I said that the Camden does not forget those who serve Tall Oaks?"

Wine. Damara is given to thought of refusal but swallows her words and takes it. Her fingers curl around the glass and bring it back to her, but she does not drink of it. "Thank you, my Lord and I do believe I remember it well…is there something of import?" She asks him, her lips remaining parted as she shifts in her seat. Her nights were filled with tea and quiet, not wine and the company of Lord. Her head dips and she looks to the book, longing to learn of it but drawing her attention back up to Sarojyn.

One the cup has been accepted from him, Sarojyn is claiming the second one and repeating the process until it is filled half full. The cork is then placed back in the bottle and as he settles back in his head, he's giving a slight nod of his head towards the book, "Records are kept of those who serve Tall Oaks and their names are recorded, along with their dates of service and their position." The cup is lifted to his lips so that a small sip can be taken before it's coming to rest back on the table once more. "That book contains many names and positions, but the ones that I thought would be interesting, are those who have served as Falconers for House Camden."

Watching him as she sets her wine to her leg, untouched yet, Damara listens and looks to the records. "You mean my father's family, the Mairns." She offers, releasing a breath. "Is that what we are to learn this even, names?" It is not dismissive, it is a question posed to him as she moves the glass in her hand, idly doing something and making no move to drink of it. "How long back are these records?" She asks, dipping her head towards the book as she remains perched at the edge of her seat.

There's a slight incline of Sarojyn's head towards her, followed by only the touch of a smile, "Correct. Your family." The mention of learning names draws the smile a little more deeply upon his lips as he offers, "In a fashion, we shall learn names. To read, one must first know the letters. Then, they must learn the sounds that groups of letters make. For this purpose, I selected something simple. Names. And thought that you might like to learn some things of your family, if there are are things to learn, that you might not have known." The glass is reclaimed and then lifted back to his lips, another small sip taken and when it's lowered, it comes to rest upon his thigh. "They go back many generations. Each one dutily recorded and stored for the history of our House."

"It is something to know that all these are kept in your Lord. I know of my grandfather and his before, but to continue to pass one names beyond is folly and often unnoted. So to remember our immediate fore fathers is good enough." Damara smiles though and looks across to him in the candlelight. "But I shall not deny that I would be interested to learn of more of them, my Lord Camden. Are there any prestigious names in my past?" She questions only in jest, humor present on her lips as she looks to him, lifting the glass to set on the table, untouched.

That smile remains upon Sarojyn's lips as he gives her another nod of his head, "Then learn you shall, Damara. Once our lessons have proceeded to the point where you can understand the basis of the words as they are written, you will be able to read of families service to Tall Oaks." Her final question does draw a soft laugh from his lips, shoulders lifting into the slightest of shrugs before his own cup comes to rest on the table, "I could not say. This does not trace lineage so much as service, but with the history of your family, it might not be difficult to piece things together. A goal, perhaps, for you to work towards." Her untouched wine is noted, but he doesn't comment on it, for he's shifting his chair so as to draw it closer to her before nodding to the book, "Open to the first page." And if she does, there is a hand written page that preludes the first page, one in which each letter of the alphabet has been written.

A warmer smile curves her lips and she nods her head, moving her seat as he does. One leg lifts to curl under her to help prop the mistress up so she can see the book better. Damara rises up a bit and pulls the book to her, turning it as she has seen the maester open them countless times. She casts a look up towards Sarojyn before she opens to the first page to find the list made out for her. For a moment, she feels the task as overwhelming as it is and her smile fades some. A finger brushes down the letters in silence as she studies them. The mistress bites at her lip. "You think I can do this?" It is uncertainty. "I would hate to waste my Lord's time…"

Sarojyn is quiet for the moment, his eyes simply watching her as she pulls that book to her and when she opens it and begins to brush a finger down the letters, the smile returns to his lips. At her question, there's a nod of his head, hands coming to rest upon the tables, palms down. "As you teach your apprentice patience and practice, that is all that this is. When things seem frustrating or out of reach, simply remember that." One of his hands lifts, reaching across the table to claim his cup and draw it closer towards him before he's looking back to her. "And so you know, I do not think this a waste of time."

"I am glad my Lord find that you enjoy my lesson…I fear it.." Damara says with a faint twist of a smile before she lets out a breath and withdraws the page of letters to bring them closer. Part of them are illuminated from behind by the candlelight, but she traces the first with her finger lightly so as not to bend the page. "So tell me the first then.." She figures he knows them, looking to the shape before her with no sort of understanding what so ever other than that it is a marking. Her brows furrow and she waits, meaning to attempt this lesson that so scares her.

"You have nothing to fear, my friend. We shall take these lessons at your pace and you shall learn. Of that, I have no doubt." The words are comforting in nature and offered with a smile. When she begins to trace the first letter, Sarojyn gives a nod of his head then, leaning back in his seat, eyes focused on her. "The first is the letter 'a'." When he speaks the letter, it's offered in a crisp, clear tone.

His reassurance brings a faint smile to Damara's lips, her head tilting she draws a breath. "Ai.." She sounds out, looking to him before repeating it. Her finger retraces the letter slowly. "Ai.." She tries once more, trying to commit it to memory. She shifts and continues to sound out each letter she is given, taking her time and having him start again when done with the first five. She is relentless, continuing through a good half of the letters before she is forced to start again, missing some as they go back through, lingering on the ones she faults on. All the while she sits at his side, given to her lessons like any diligent student.

True to his nature, Sarojyn is ever the patient teacher. Each letter that must be repeated is repeated as if it was the first time it was given and when they start from the beginning, it's as if it's the beginning of the lesson. Throughout, the smile remains upon the Lord's lips, his head nodding approvingly as she advances through them. It's at times like this that he seems complete at ease and for now, time is a secondary thing and something that's not noticed. Once she has managed to move through the first half of the letters and recite each to some degree, there's a more firm nod of his head, "These are the fundemental blocks in which reading is built upon, Damara. Once you are able to move through each one, you will find that the actual learnng of reading to be a touch easier."

Though she had triumphed to some degree, Damara still faces the latter half with trouble recognizing some in the first. Her head shakes, "My Lord is patient…I am not certain I could so easily have had such patience…I am decidedly slow at this." She offers a faint smile to him until she lowers the paper to press into the for of the record book. The candles though are the test of time and they are near spent. Her gaze stares at them and she parts her lips. "My Lord…I have taken too much of your time." She fusses slightly and then clears her throat, looking to the book before slowly closing it, the secrets within kept for now as she can hardly decipher anything yet.

"You would be surprised where one finds patience for such things, Damara. It has been some time since I have been able to sit like this and I enjoy such a thing." With his wine all but gone and the mention of time, Sarojyn's eyes shift to the candles, his right brow lofting just a touch before he looks back to her, "It would see that time has fled, but there is nothing that required my attention this eve." One hand moves to the book that she had closed and he moves to open it, withdrawing that sheet of paper and offering it to her. "Keep it. Memorize the letters you have learned and we will do the next half during our next lesson. For now .." He begins to rise from his seat and one might assume he will bid her good night. But, he doesn't. Rather, he offers, "Join me for a cup of tea, since I noticed that wine does not seem to draw your taste."

As he retrieves the paper, she takes it, folding it to her and taking care to reverent of it. Damara lifts her gaze to him as he rises, starting to rise as well as she thinks just that. Nearly ready to bow, she holds herself and lifts a brow, "My is late.." She offers gently but give a nod of her head. "Wine can be a dark thing.." Simply said before she straightens fully. "I will take a cup of tea if my Lord wills it and wishes my company." Comes her reply. She shifts on her feet, the parchment in hand as she studies his face in the guttering light.

Letting her speak, Saro can't help but extend her a smile and a slight nod of his head, "I will not dispute the time, Damara, but I have enjoyed our evening and would wish a little longer of your company." Her thoughts on wine are noted, filed away away for future reference, he's moving to open the door that leads back into the corridor of the hall. "Come. Let us venture down to the Hall where we can take a cup of tea and talk of things not related to lessons."

Looking to the book, she reaches for it to take it up and lean down to blow out the candles, the smoke lingering and her eyes slowly adjusting. Damara starts to turn and takes a few steps towards him and door, the glow echoing up the stairs. She pauses, gazing up at the sky, the stars. A soft smile touches her lips as her hair is stirred by the evening air. Hugging the book to her, she turns, looking to him as she finally slips in past the door and down the stairs.

Grand Hall Tall Oaks Keep

The massive room is not just a dining hall but it presents itself as the throne room too, extending into the second floor with a view of the landing looking down into it, the stairs curling along the front right. There is a plateaud rise of several steps along the back. Two thrones rest there, hand carven out of oak and worn with time. The high windows let in the air and the gentle breezes of the forest that whisper their songs through the large room. But what is more, is the collection of scrolls and books along the left wall, tucked beneath an overhang on shelves. Records, stories, histories, all clumped together in a fashion on a Maester would understand. The long table set in the middle ofthe room is on top of a near threadbare carpet done in the colors of house Camden and each chair looks as if it is used daily, speaking of large gatherings. The Hall in itself is a cathedral to the forest without.

Once she is through the doorway, Saro is following shortly thereafter and then moving to lead her down the staircases until they finally reach the Grand Hall. There, one of the servants greets them and the Lord offers a smile and a slight nod of his head, "Tea for the both of us, please. Then, you may depart for the evening." At this time of the evening, there is little in the way of staff that move about, for most of them have departed for their chambers. That gentle breeze that sounded on the parapet can be heard here, an echo'ing sound that softly fills the grand hall. Making his way towards towards that plateaud rise, his hands lift to undo the cloak from his shoulders and once it falls free, he's catching it with his hand. "How is the training of your apprentice going?"

Book yet in her arms, Damara wished not to leave it to the elements. The Mistress follows in his wake slowly, the soft pad of her feet barely making a sound as she watches him. She looks down to the book and then nods, "He gathers the basics rather well, but I think he fears the birds yet and how they might harm truth." But she knows too, her left hand more than lacerated by many a beak, as well as her right. "They can be unforgiving things, falcons, especially if they sense you fear them. It will take some time to work that out of him, my Lord." She hestiates before asking, "My Lord, where would you care for me to set this?"

Climbing the stairs to that rise, Saro moves through the throne and gently lays his cloak upon the left arm of it. At the mention of the falcons, his lips curve into the hints of a smile as he turns to look towards her. "They are a bird to be both feared and respected. I've learned a thing or two in my time. It is most certainly not something that is for everyone." The mention of the book has him extending a hand towards one of the small tables near the thrones, "Please, set it down. I will see to it that it's returned to the shelves."

Stepping forward to deposit the book, Damara does so carefully. "We all have talents my Lord, but some things can be learned. He merely as to overcome his fear and I think he will have the right of it." But as her hands draw back from the book, her tunic bares her forearms and shows the talon and beak scars runing along them, mostly on her right hand, the skin no longer smooth. She turns to him once the book is safe and her hand moves to rest on the edge of the table. She yawns, turning her head a moment to cover it, "Do forgive me.." She says once done filling her lungs, "I am not used to actively being awake so late, my Lord." She smiles faintly, "I am geting old." It is a playful nudge at him.

Her account of things has Saro nodding his head, though his eyes are drawn to the markings of the trade upon her arm. It's to be expected, considering the nature of the bird and when his eyes lift, there's a quick smile, "And learn it he will. I swear that your family has the blood of falcons within." Her yawn and then subsequent comment to him draws a soft laugh from his lips as he gives a shake of his head, "I think you have a few years left before you rightfully claim such a thing, my friend. For now, sit .." His hand motions to the seats. Of which there are only two. The thrones. And that even brings a pause to whatever was going to follow. "I .. apologize. I am a creature of habit when I am alone in the evening." His eyes shift to her and to the seats and then back again.

"I thank you for you gracious words, but I am to become a spinster soon.." Damara's smile remains but as he moves closer to the thrones, she stops meaning to stand and talk but it is his bidding for her to sit that has her smile fade. "My Lord.." The Mistress speaks, furrowing her brows and then dipping her head. "I would rather kneel before my lord than take the seat at his side. It is not my place." She has fallen back to formalities and she lifts her chin, gazing to the offending throne and then to Sarojyn.

There is a certain .. embarassment within Saro and it shows in his features for just a moment before he's offering the hint of a laugh, "There will be no kneeling this evening, Damara." The servant returns into the hall with the tea and simply makes her way up those steps before moving to set the tray on the table before offering a bow of head so she can then retreat. Eyes follow the servant before he's looking back to Damara, "This evening, they are but chairs. There is no business to be conducted. No meetings to attend. And you have already sat at my side, twice now." Her home and the lesson. "A third time will bring no harm."

But for Damara this third time is too much. There is great hesitation even as he bid her sit in a chair she holds in such high regard. The mistress furrows her brows and looks to the tea and him. "I enjoy my Lord's company but I bid you leave to go this evening." She dips her head, the scared hand pressing to her chest as she gazes to the floor at his feet. The offer, though gracious is not something she can accept obviously.

There's a slight shake of Saro's head, followed by a shift of his attention out across the hall before he's looking back towards her. "Damara, you need not run from the evening. I will have no friend of mine kneel at my feet while I sit." Again, he looks back to the hall and gives a nod in the direction of tables and chairs before he looks back towards her, "I can fetch a chair for you, if that would make you feel more comfortable."

"If you wish me to stay, it would be my one request of you, my Lord." Damara looks to the chair he bid her to sit in. "Your Lady mother sat there, as would you wife. I will not sit upon the throne." She tells him as quiet explanation. The Mistress stays standing, "I find no fault in standing and can do so all the same.." She takes a step closer, something hidden within her gaze before she reaches for one of the mugs of tea, taking it up. The herbs are not the same, but it still is comforting for her. "I am sorry to inconvience you, my Lord." Still all these my Lords and now the throne.

A nod is given by way of her explaination, followed only by the hint of a smile that crosses Saro's lips, "It would be impolite of me to make you stand, Damara. You are here as my guest." His eyes do play to the second seat, regarding it for a moment before he's looking back to her, "It has been some time since that seat has been sat upon." When she takes up her cup, he's moving to do the same, choosing to stand as well for the moment. His eyes regard her curiously for a moment, his head canting just a touch to the right before he's finally offering, "I think you've called me my Lord more in the past week then you have in the past five years. What will it take for you to not? Or to at least reduce the frequency?"

As he stands beside her, Damara tilts her head from her tea to look up at him and then follows his gaze to the chair. "More the reason it should remain for your wife or your son's wife. It is not my place.." There is a faint smile before she takes a sip of the tea, sighing gently. "I am your friend, confidante and servant my Lord, as you wish it." Her chin lifts and she turns to face him fully then, "You can no more change the frequency than get to be a Maester. There is a place we each hold and I will address you as your station implies." But she is trying to acively lessen the use of 'my lord'.

Something she says draws that smile to his lips once more and Saro can't help but lift a hand to clasp it lightly on her shoulder. It's a friendly gesture and it lasts for only a moment before falling away, "It pleases me to hear you list them in that order, Damara." The cup is then lifted to his lips, a small sip taken and savored and he lets the warmth soothe it's way down his throat. "One could technically change their station if they so strived for it." The lessing of 'my lord' does keep that smile upon his lips.

"There is very little many can do to change their station, but they can strive." She has to bite off the my Lord from her words. Damara tries at least. She stands yet, cup held between both her hands to warm them. Scars tighten less when the muscles are warm. She draws the tea to her lips to drink of it slowly. "However, you can always change your station, not that it would do you well to step down. Besides, I do think Tall Oaks enjoys you as it's Lord." A soft smile to her lips and she looks to his throne with his cap settled over the arm.

"I would disagree, but I fear you would let me win such an agreement, simply for the sake of it." The words are slightly teasing, a jestful nudge at her as his eyes shift about the hall once more. When they return to her, his lips curve back into a smile before he offers a slight bow of his head towards her, "Most of what I desire has been found here and while we may not be the most prestegious of places, I would argue that we are the happiest. To be free beneath the trees and to live almost entirely from what the land provides?" He then follows his gaze back towards his throne, regarding the chair for a moment before he continues, "There is very little that I would change."

"Happy and content.." But ever pragmatic, the Mistress speaks up. "My Lord.." There it is again but Damara has forgotten already, "There is news from the South of things colliding rather swiftly between the houses there. The trouble is not so far away that it wouldn't find us here. We must be ready, in case of such things. Rumors of Ironborn arriving at the tourney that was held this past week. It does not bode well and I would look to our happiness for much, but not for protection." Her brows furrow. Seems she has been listening to the Maesters ravens. Green eyes glow in the faint light, made so by their color. But she quiets and looks to the chair. "There is always things to change. But despite that, you are a great Lord."

"You are right, Damara, happiness will not protect us should the South be plunged in conflict. Should that happen, we will need to once more take arms to ensure the safety of our lands." The tea returns to his lips, a longer sip taken before he's moving to settle it on the table. "I intend to have ravens sent to both Terrick's Roost and Stonebridge and then I will ride South. It has been too long since Camden has leant their voice in an effort to secure peace." Eyes shift to his throne and then the vacant one, resting there for a moment before he turns to look to her. "I would have you ride with me, Damara, much like your father rode with mine."

A nod of understanding to the words of ravens but then she holds. Damara forces a smile, yet deep within she can feel the bitter memory of her last venture out five years ago. She had not left the wood since, content to remain in the peaceful sanctuary. Her words come out differently than her thoughts, "I would be glad to attend you my Lord, as my father did for yours." She dips her head, yet the hand upon the tea tightens.

There's little doubt that Saro knows of her feelings and after a moment, he's giving a slight nod of his head, "Thank you. I know the difficulty in the task that I ask, Damara, and I would hold no grudge against you if you asked to remain behind." While he has ventured out, they've been few and far between, born only of necessity. "If I did not think it important, I would not even ask such a thing. But at this time, I do not feel that Lord Terrick or the Lords Nayland would venture up here with the state of things in their lands."

"What do you wish to accomplish with them? From all accounts both are stubborn and bent on a feud they most likely how it started none can recall. Silly impudent nobles bent on power because that is what they are taught to need. They over reach and harm those of their people and end up being burned for their efforts. Where one falls the others tumble after, silly followers, blind and unseeing.." Damara has much to say of the matter it would seem and she finally quiets to still her tongue by drinking her tea. Drawing a slow breath, she create her calm again. "I wish you not to go.." She finally says. "I bid you not to."

At her .. depiction of the South, Saro can't help but allow a soft chuckle to escape his lips as he gives a shake of his head, "Not all in the South are of that mindset, Damara, but I would hope to bring peace to them. To get them to settle their differences through words and words alone." When she bids him not to go, he's taking a step closer, his head inclining a touch towards her, "I am afraid that I can not stand idly by any longer. My family has long sought to involve themselves in the hopes of peace. To do nothing … I can't simply stand by."

Her brows knit together and where she would normally bow her head, she keeps her gaze fixed on his. Damara is silent and then finally, she speaks, "With respect, the last time such peaceful intentions were sought, we both lost much." Her voice is softly, "Though the two of us may have little left to lose, there will be more than us to go." The mistress keeps her gaze locked for a momemt or two, studying his face. "And what little I have left…will be at risk. My Lord.." The last is a silent plea yet again for him to abandon the Houses to the south in their folly.

Standing before her now, there's no concealing the fact that those memories wear hard on his decision and as she speaks, Saro is giving a nod of his head, "I have not forgotten, Damara. I could not forget." He doesn't look away as she studies his face and when she speaks once more, he's quiet for a moment. Then, there is a simple nod of his head before he's speaking, "I will have Maester Sebastian send ravens in the morning, extending an invitation to Lord Terrick and the Lords Nayland. But if they refuse the invitation .." The rest is left unsaid, but there is little doubt that he would ride.

Frustration boils beneath her skin but none of it shows upon he face. Damara lowers her eyes finally and dips her head. "Yes, my Lord. Should they refuse hospitality, I will be ready to ride at your side." She promies. Her head turns away and she takes a long pull upon her tea, moving to set the mug aside. "I will not allow you to go unattended." Her hand lifts to touch her heart and bow to him before it is a slow rise back up, straightening. Green eyes find his once more, but her opinion has faded from the look upon her face.

"Thank you." Those two words convey more then just simple thanks, for there is a certain level of gratitude and comfort contained with them. There's a faint smile at the bow and a slight dip of his head in return before Saro is offering, "I do not make this decision lightly. Tall Oaks has lost much to champion peace and I fear for the things that my people could lose. That I could lose." A pause is given, a soft breath taken before he continues, "But that is also the reason why I must try. That is what we are about, even if we have been burned by it in the past." There is yet another pause before he finally murmers, "I would speak more of this with you. Of preperations that must be taken. Join me in the morning, at breakfast. I fear that it will not be a social thing." He does lift a hand, motioning to the stairs that lead to the upper levels, "If so wish, you can make use of one of the guest quarters."

At the bid for breakfast and further talk of impending travels, there is but a nod. Damara looks to the motion of his hand, gazing up at the promenade. "My lord. I shall join you for the moring meal but I will take leave to my own house, I thank you though." there is a soft smile, "My Lord, I wish you would speak to the Maester about finding yourself a good wife. There must be a small house that bares a daughter with a kind heart." Always a bit for him but she quiets. "I oversep myself too often." She pauses and bows to him, that scarred hand to her chest. "At your leave, your Lordship."

To her refusal, Saro is giving a nod of understanding, though he voices nothing of it. "Then come the morning, I shall see you in this Hall once more." Then there's that mention of him fiding a wife and he allows the smile to return to his lips, "The time for having someone find me a wife has come and gone, Damara. There is one I would speak to of such a subject … but it will need to wait until other matters are attended to." The mention of overstepping bounds as him giving a shake of his head and when she bows, he's dipping his head in return to her. "You overstep nothing. I have come to value your input and enjoy your conversation. Please, do not stop." He does take a half step back and knowing she will not leave until bide farewall, he offers, "You have my leave, Damara. Until the morn."