|Kiss And Make Up|
|Summary:||Gedeon apologizes. Alek, uh, accepts.|
|Related Logs:||Victor's Spoils, Spoiled Victor, Cock of the Walk, The Bigger Man|
|Road to Riverrun|
|A road surrounded by wilderness and stuff.|
|3 November 288|
The black courser with her lean lines and flowing, graceful gait is well ahead of the majority of their party, the man on her back at ease in her saddle if slightly slumped at overcoming last night's hangover. What will help? The skin that he has in hand as Alek rides, raised to lips at odd intervals as he holds the reins loosely in the other. Cloak slung carelessly over his shoulder, otherwise he wears simple clothing for the road.
If lunch was full of idle pleasantries, none were had between the two sworn knights of Oldstones, both discreetly ignoring the other one's existence. But once the remains of the meal are packed away and the party continues its travel along the road, Gedeon urges his chestnut horse into a brief gallop to carry it ahead of the carriages and up to the black courser with her slumped and hung-over knight. "Don't you ever worry you're going to slide right out of the saddle?" the younger, paler man inquires.
"Cass is well-trained not to let me fall," Alek mumbles with a pat against the horse's neck, using the gesture to cover the slide of grey eyes sideways to take in the other knight. Question is held in the slight slivering of his gaze, though he does not rush to add more to the conversation.
"Handy," Gedeon muses, a corner of his mouth lifting. "Who trained her?" Then, with a small sigh, he offers the actual words that brought him up beside Alek. "Sorry I punched you."
Fingers wave down his person in a gesture, Alek's brow lifting in a haughty curve towards Gedeon as he remains silent. And silent a moment longer even at his apology, though he takes a long drag from his wine skin. "You are crap at apologies, Ged," he finally offers with dry humor, likely because he's not better himself.
"Better at punching," Gedeon agrees, still smiling faintly as he holds a hand out in silent request for a pull from Alek's wineskin. "What would you have me say, then?"
Alek hands it over with little compunction, amiable enough in the sharing of alcohol as he considers Gedeon's question with a crooked, wry smile. He answers dryly, "How about 'You were right, Alek. You are the best. You know more than me and I never should have punched you.'?" His fingers, loose where they hold the reigns, tap against the leather as he speaks, rolling with his courser's gait to keep a look on Gedeon.
Gedeon considers, shifting his grip so he can uncap the skin and take a swallow before handing it back. "I never should have punched you," he allows, "and you were right that Rowan shouldn't have been in the melee, whether or not I agree with your actions."
Accepting back the skin, Alek wipes the lip carelessly against his shirt, his own consideration of Gedeon continuing sidelong where he keeps his horse from trotting too far ahead. Quietly, he adds, "I did not know you told him to take the field."
There's a small nod from the blond knight. "You could have asked, or left me the right to deal with him, if you truly thought he was out there on his own. But, I should have told you, as well. So, I apologize."
"Apology accepted," Alek says with a soft laugh and a bright grin of white teeth, not good at somber, seriousness even in situations like this. It's probably good they're on horses and he can't ruffle hair or something of the like.
And none offered in kind, but perhaps Gedeon expected no more. He only nods. "Good. Glad that's settled, then."
Sorry, he's pretty incapable of being the better person, but Alek is quick to warm back up and forget the subject except for a "I am too." Then he poses an easier (???), "So, how's your stomach? We will be in Riverrun by nightfall, I have heard."
"Looks that way," Gedeon agrees. For his stomach, his smile becomes a bit wry. "Well, another taste of wine wouldn't go amiss." He draws a slow breath in and then out, again. "This will be the beginning or the end, and I cannot yet tell which."
"Likely, it will be both," Alek offers with amused wisdom, words dry even as he wets his throat with another pull of his wine before offering it back. "You should get well and truly drunk, so whatever happens you will not remember to regret it."
With a small snort, Gedeon accepts the skin again. "That didn't even make any sense. It'll be one or the other, it can't be both." For getting drunk, he smirks, shaking his head. "I'll leave the ill-advise debauchery to you, you're better at it."
With a grin and a shrug, Alek relays with wry humor, "You'll understand when you're older." His courser is nudged into riding the slightest bit faster with a soft kick of his heels, though it is with the expectation that Gedeon will stay caught up. Instead of debauchery, he turns the conversation to complaint about being kept to the speed of the carriage, thanks to the inconvenient ladies accompanying the party.