|Lost and Found|
|Summary:||Jarod locates the Rivers he misplaced a few days ago.|
|Related Logs:||For Her Favor|
|Crane's Crossing Inn — Stonebridge|
|While Crane's Crossing is technically an Inn, it caters to the traveling nobility almost exclusively. The floors around the hearth are finely crafted stonework, as are the slate blocks that the firepit is constructed of. The rest of the floor is done in stained oak that matches the few long tables and the chairs. The rest of the main room is furnished with plush couches and seating to entice visitors to delay their leave. A full service kitchen provides food of all kinds as well as high quality ales and wines. Also available are several women to provide hospitality to the lonely or those in need, the quality of them to be beaten by but a few in the Riverlands. A hallway near the kitchen leads off to the rear of the building and several up-scale rooms.|
|2 February 289|
Evening in Stonebridge, though early enough that people aren't particularly far along in their drinking. Not that Crane's Crossing - generally - attracts elements that're too wild. Ser Jarod Rivers looks to have just gotten off the road. In his traveling cloak and still dusty from travel and horse, he's planted on a couch that affords him a good view of the various tables. Drinking a glass of dark red wine and people-watching, but all appearances.
One more person arrives to be watched; Gedeon Rivers shrugs out of his own cloak as he steps into the Crane's Crossing, heading over to the bar to place an order for a drink both hot and alcoholic. Perhaps Lucienne would arrove. Perhaps he didn't notice Jarod on the couch, or perhaps he only pretends he didn't.
That's probably the person Jarod is watching for, for his gaze zeroes right in on Gedeon. Whether he's truly missed or otherwise, he's not going to allow himself to be missable. He raises a hand to wave at the other bastard knight. "Tordane's Rivers!" He yells it loud enough to attract many looks from patrons who aren't Gedeon. "Just the man I was looking for. Come over, join me for a drink."
"Oh gods, he's being cheerful," Gedeon murmurs to no one in particular as he accepts his steaming drink and peers over his shoulder. "He's either drunk or angry. Well," the drink is lifted in a sort of toast towards the other Rivers before Gedeon takes a sip and ambles in that direction. "Hello, other Rivers. I would have thought you'd be at the Roost until we're called back to Seagard. Home and family and all that."
Jarod is not drunk. He's enjoying a glass of strongwine, but he's nursing it. It's not even a quarter empty and appears to be his first. He does crook Gedeon a grin, though it has too much of an edge to be called boyish. "Most of the Terrick knights should be back there now, aye. I was headed in that direction. Took a detour here first, though. We need to talk, you and me. Sit down. Have a cup, if you want." He gestures to the flagon of wine on the little inn table in front of him.
"I have a cup," Gedeon points out. "I just toasted you with it. Do try to pay attention." He eases down on the couch, stretches out his legs and leaning back a little. Taking another small swallow, he adds, "You've wanted to do that a lot, recently. Is there something I should know?"
"Sorry. Things slip by me on occasion. You, for example." Jarod settles back comfortably on the couch. If this were a less uppity establishment, he'd probably be putting his feet up. But he resists that urge. "I just want to know where we stand is all. That's hard to figure. I half-thought you'd be off to Braavos by now. Couldn't find you at Seagard. The Oldstones camp, what remained of it, told me you'd gone."
"Mmm," Gedeon agrees around another swallow. "I waited a portion of the morning for you, but apparently you and your squire sleep very late. I was due to return to Stonebridge and escort our traders home. And then another lot back here. 'Glamorous' guard duty waits for no man."
"I was up late. Didn't sleep terribly long, if you measure by hours," Jarod replies with a shrug. He reaches into his cloak, plucking out a small roll of parchment and offering it to Gedeon. "This is what I worked up off we what we talked about. It's just some suggested language. Play with it if you like, though keep in mind my lord father - or Lord Jacsen more likely, since we're back in these parts - will be reading and signing it as well." The parchment, if it's taken and unrolled, is scribed in a smaller and more artful hand than Jarod's. He may or may not recognize it as Rowan's.
I, Ser Gedeon Rivers, natural son of Lord Geoffrey Tordane, do pledge that, in the event I am made lawful and legitimate heir to and/or lord of Stonebridge, I shall return vassalage of all Stonebridge lands to loyalty and liege of Lord Terrick of Terrick's Roost, directly upon my taking lordship of aforementioned town and lands.
Setting down his mug, Gedeon accepts the bit of parchment, reading through it. His lips quirk for the handwriting. "Ah. She helped," is all he says before he falls quiet to consider the little document. "That's not bad, though you don't need the bit about my becoming heir. I could only give loyalty to the Roost once I was actually lord, so it's extraneous. But, otherwise, no, it's not bad at all. I'll think on if anything else ought to be added or revised, thank you." He moves to tuck the parchment into a pocket before pausing and glancing over at Jarod. "Or, did you want this back?"
"Fixed my punctuation, mainly," Jarod replies. "I rather like to write, I find, but a good editor's what brings it all together." He takes a sip of his wine. As for wanting it back, he shakes his head. "Keep it. I've got the basic gist of it If you've anything you'd like to ask of the Terricks, add that as you will. We should get it witnessed when it's signed. Preferably by someone a bit neutral. There are Groves nobles at the Roost, I'm told, or you can select a party you prefer from Stonebridge. Nobody in my family'd mind, so long as it wasn't a Nayland. Not that they'd terribly want to be a part of it."
"That wouldn't exactly be impartial," Gedeon points out with a quirk of a smile. "A Groves would do, or perhaps Lady Westerling, I heard she and Lucienne were in the Roost for a time. She might be willing to witness."
"The lovely lady Westerling would do just fine," Jarod says. "I'd prefer, I'm sure you understand, that you ride back with Rowan and me on the morrow to see it done. Let's just cut the bullshit, Gedeon. If you still intend to do as you promised, do it. If not, at least tell us straight, so we can plan on not getting it back whatever King Robert decides."
"It'll have to be afternoon, I've an engagement in the morning. What bullshit?" Gedeon asks, one brow lifting. "You suddenly decided on this a pair of days ago, and because I didn't wait half the day for you to crawl out of your tent, you suggest I'm dishonest?"
"You left in a bit abrupt, can't deny it. Though I did perhaps sleep a little late." Jarod half-smiles as he reflects on that. He shrugs. "You said it yourself. You're practical. And, at present, the Terricks' situation is far diminished from what it was when promises were made, and when we gave you aid with your claim at Riverrun. Not that you can really afford to start losing what allies you have, as the Naylands will likely not go quiet and Oldstones hasn't the strength to face them alone. So…I figure it's a bit of a wash on what you figure is the practical thing to do, at present. Curious so see how it plays. What I know is this. Lord Geoffrey Tordane and Lady Isolde made a lot of promises sealed in love and friendship and honor which came to precisely nothing, and my lord father and brother were blind enough not to see it coming. Either way, this time'll be different." His brow furrows curiously. "Engagement?"
"Then it sounds as if you're a bit better off with a practical lord running Stonebridge than a much beloved one," Gedeon murmurs. For the engagement, he shrugs, eyes rolling. "I have to let Lord Rafferdy win the Lady Lorna Frey's favor off me."
"The type of lord who sees the world without attachments, save his own advancement?" Jarod retorts. "Lord Ser Anton told me that's the sort of man he endeavored to be, though I'll confess not in those precise words. I do not think a man who uses practicality as an excuse to do whatever in seven hells pleases him at a given moment would be a good lord, no. Like I said before, I figure that's just another sort of excuse. But what sort of man or lord you'll be, I do not know. I'm curious to see." He seems about to go on, as he so often does, but the information from Gedeon makes him blink. "Who on the what…why?" He takes a drink.
Gedeon listens to this familiar tirade, and sips his drink, and yawns. Maybe it's been a long day. "You know, I couldn't say, exactly. Lord Rafferdy seems very smitten with her and has decided the way to demonstrate his affections was to challenge me to a duel over possession of her handkerchief."
"Huh." Jarod drinks. Muttering to himself, "Did I tell him to do that? I don't think I told him to do that…there was something about a song…" He clears his throat. "Uh. Huh. Anyhow. We can stick around town for that. But…uh…witnesses." While he probably does legitimately want to make sure Gedeon actually goes with him, he also wants to watch.
"If you like," Gedeon allows with another faint shrug. "I suggested a competition in archery. He ought to be able to trounce me soundly enough in that, and it shouldn't do my reputation much damage. Archery is useful, but a knight who is less proficient with a bow than a sword is hardly seen as lacking."
"And you'd trounce him with a sword, likely as," Jarod says with a chuckle. "Huh." That's also information he absorbs, and seems to turn over in the twisty instrument that is his brain. His cup is empty by now, and he doesn't refill it. "Well, I'll get some sleep. See you on the morrow, I suppose."
"Unless I was blindfolded, from the sound of it," Gedeon muses dryly. "We compete at dawn, Rivers. Don't oversleep."