|Summary:||Roslyn and Kittridge and Tommas all have a conversation sometime during the gathering at the picnic area.|
|It is an area that would be nice for a picnic, though not very well defended.|
|Mon Jun 4, 289|
The nebulous time between where both parties meet in the picnic is also a busy time, Maesters and healers seeing to each of the girls in turn, servants preparing what food may be cooked and eaten before ladies and knights go their own separate ways to their own separate houses. Already reunited with her brother who has been pulled away by duties overseeing other things, Roslyn sits on a log as she waits, a blanket pulled tightly around her shoulders with one hand as she attempts to eat a little with the other.
Kittridge has been loath to leave his sister and her septa's sides for even a moment, but being seen by the maester and changing into what clothes they've brought them is better done without his hovering. He wanders reluctantly away, then, in search of some food, which he finds in Roslyn's hand. He snatches it away, and— no, he doesn't. Instead, he gives a short bow. "Lady Roslyn," he says, and then seems not to know what to do next, and instead laughs, briefly, lightly, wearily. "Forgive me, there aren't really manners for a situation like this, are there?"
Not a part of the actual assault, but a tireless member of the tracking parties that slowly narrowed down the possible locations of the ladies, Tommas has been lingering around the area. Seeing what needs to be done to busy his hands until the others returned. Catching sight of his Lord, he moves to join Kittridge and pulls up short to offer a bow at the sight of Roslyn. "My Lord Kitt. M'lady."
"No, there is no etiquette written for—," Roslyn starts, her lips barely forming a smile of their own though forced as she lifts her gaze to find the lord. Bright eyes linger on Kittridge for a long moment, as if to memorize the look of the knight, only to tear away guiltily at Tommas's words. She greets him politely, "Ser Tommas. Thank you."
"Hopefully we won't be forced to make some up," Kittridge replies, "I'd prefer to think this is the only time we will need it." He smiles faintly, and then turns to greet his much-larger knight, "Tommas." He claps him on the shoulder, grips it for a second, and then looks away, and back to Roslyn. "You are back to Stonebridge, I assume?" he asks.
"Ain't that the truth, my Lord," Tommas agrees darkly with a shake of his head. It isn't something that out ever happen again. He flashes Kittridge a short grin for the clap, before asking, "Alls well as can be?" He settles his hands at his side, looking back to Roslyn inquisitively at Kitt's question.
Roslyn replies carefully, the same joke used in the cave recycled with a lighter tone, "Not when we all shall ride with ten guards apiece from now on." Drawing a look towards Tommas, she nods agreeably, and it is the large knight that she studies even as she answers the lord's question. "For recovery. Though, business will only keep for so long, and I still have arrangements to be made in Terrick's Roost. A day or two at Stonebridge, at the most."
"Only ten? I was thinking a score at least," Kittridge says, with brittle humor. He rakes a hand through hair even more unruly than usual, and glances between Roslyn and Tommas, offering, "Lady Roslyn, this is Ser Tommas Belte, one of our knights, and a personal friend. I can't recall if you've been introduced. And that is an admirable devotion to your business, lady, to be back at work on it so soon. Perhaps I will see you in the Roost. We are home to Kingsgrove now, but I ought to be riding through to Stonebridge again soon enough to speak with your brother Rutger."
The giant knight shows many of the same marks of tiredness and wear as the rest of the rescue party, but he offers her a wide, warm smile for her regard. "Only briefly, my Lord. Lady Roslyn was kind enough to inform me of the alligators," yes that word is said with relish, "at the Mire and that one might hunt them." Tommas bows his head at the days taken for recovery, warmth ebbing from his face as he glances back towards where the long captive is kept. "At least a score."
"Which you one day must come see," Roslyn replies with a quiet chiding towards Tommas, her lips forming an easier smile at his tone as he pronounces the word alligator. Her gaze then drags back to Kittridge, however, the smile still lingering for a moment. "I am not getting any younger," she answers, quietly. "You ought to look for him at the Roost, my lord. He will be accompanying me there to speak with Lord Terrick."
"One day," Kittridge agrees of hunting at the Mire, "I told your brother as much. Perhaps when you all return to the Mire we can see about the alligators." When she says Rutger will be accompanying her to the Roost, a brow rises, "Oh? Well, I will seek him out there, then. That will be… quicker." Something about how he says it makes it sound like what he really means is 'awkward'. He moves on anyway, asking, "Perhaps in a few days when we are all better rested, lady, I will see you there."
"Yes, M'lady," the big knight replies with an edge of a grin, ducking his head like a little boy. Properly chided, all in all. Tommas looks towards Kittridge at that half-promise, perhaps a touch eager at the thought. Alligators. Ahem.
For a moment, Roslyn forgets Tommas's presence to study Kittridge instead, the trail of her gaze tracing jaw and nose and hair with equal attention before she answers warmly, "I hope so, my lord. And that we shall one day see you at the Mire, of course."
"Then I will be sure I do," Kittridge says, before laughing, a bit more warmly than at first, "Oh, I have no intention of missing out on this hunt. I've heard too much of it, and the frog hunt was entertaining enough to begin with. Once Lord Rutger and I have settled our business, perhaps we can arrange it. There will be documents and things to exchange still, after all."
Frog hunting! Alligators! It's like hunter's fete. Tommas does well to contain his enthusiasm in light of the recent traumatic events that have befallen the ladies, but a slight smile still creeps onto his broad features. "It will be something to look forward to, then."
"Documents, my lord? Your business with my brother certainly sounds official," is almost a question, Roslyn's head tipped slightly as she casts a look again over Kittridge. His laugh brings her own smile back for a moment. She adds in agreement to Tommas, "Most definitely, ser."
Kittridge glances over at Tommas, as if expecting the restraint on that enthusiasm to slip more than it does. He smiles crookedly, and then looks back to Roslyn to nod, "It is. Has he not mentioned it?" he asks, then snorts and rubs at his face, "Forgive me, of course he hasn't, there's been no time to. I mean not the business he wishes to exist concerning my sister the Lady Rosanna, but the other business between our houses, which we have resolved upon and must see finalized for once and all, though I expect it will be quickly done."
Meeting Kittridge's glance, Tommas raises his brows in silent query. What? He can behave sometimes when it involves animals. "There is much business to attend in all of this, aye. Are you warm enough, Lady Roslyn? I could see to finding you more cover before I check in on Lady Rosanna," he wonders with genuine concern. It wouldn't do for her to get sick after all of this.
Roslyn has proven to be rather sickly, hasn't she? What with a cold and then all sorts of fainting. She shakes her head, however, and answers politely, "No, Ser Tommas. Do not worry on me, as I shall be fine." She even offers him another smile, though this is not as natural as the one before it, before turning her attention back to Kittridge. "The only other business between our families that I could think of is your surplus, Lord Kittridge."
Kittridge tilts his head to Roslyn and replies, "I think we ought not to speak on it here and now," he suggests, and they are, after all, surrounded by Terricks and Mallisters, "But I cannot think of any other business either, at present."
Tommas dips his head in a short nod for Roslyn's answer and then coughs briefly, straightening himself. "I'll leave you to talk of whatever you see fit, my Lord, M'Lady. I'd like to go see to your Lady sister, then. Bring her sommat to eat." Excusing himself from the pair, he bows briefly and flashes Kitt a short smile.
Her eyes trailing after Tommas for only a moment to see him gone, Roslyn's attention returns to Kittridge quickly. She agrees, quietly, "No, of course not, ser. There are a number of things that are better left undiscussed here. I should hope, at least."
Kittridge nods to Tommas, saying, "Good idea, she and Day both'll need something eat. I'll catch up with you all in a moment." He turns back to Roslyn then, and, meeting her eyes, nods slowly. "Any number of things," he agrees, "Best left for other times and places."
"If only we were alone to discuss it now, there are still reassurances one would seek even after such a trying ordeal. Never having to go hungry again being one of them, of course," Roslyn replies, humor wry even as it softens her words and her lips into a slow smile. "Have I thanked you yet, for rescuing us?"
"Another subject best not discussed in present company," Kittridge says, with a wry twist of his lips at the mention of going hungry. At the last, his lips curve somewhat in return, and he nods, "I believe you have. Though perhaps not quite so enthusiastically as my sister thanked your brother," he says, tone a dry drawl.
Roslyn replies, carefully, "I can understand the desire and emotions that drove her, for all that perhaps it isn't that surprising, given they are courting. Certainly somewhat scandalous, but nothing that isn't understandable."
"Courting is a bare half-step from merely acquainted," Kittridge replies, "Somewhat scandalous, certainly. But perhaps understandable. I think you must all be given some… leeway, for a week or two, to recover from the ordeal. One can hardly expect an instant return to normal behavior."
"I would hope no one would expect such, given that I hardly feel myself at all at the moment. I keep having this overwhelming urge to get away from it all and escape to be alone, though I know the world will not wait for that," Roslyn admits with a wince, a slight pull of her brows together even as her attention lingers on the man.
"Do you?" Kittridge seems somewhat surprised, "I would have thought being alone would not appeal. Certainly my sister seems intent on never being more than a foot from my brother or myself for the forseeable future. But I expect it is different for each of you."
"Perhaps not entirely alone, but there seemed barely room to breath in that place where they kept us, so many of us crowded together. I would think anyone would want some privacy after that," Roslyn answers thoughtfully, her gaze sliding over the bustle of the area between knights and ladies, maesters and servants.
"It was a great deal smaller on the inside than I'd expected," Kittridge agrees of their temporary prison, "Though I was pleased to find no more of them than the one at the door. I can understand wishing to be out of a crowd, though," he offers, nodding, "Somewhere quiet, and private. I admit I look forward to being home, in my room, with the door shut. To clear my head… at least for the moment before I fall asleep for a week," he jokes, with another flash of a smile."
"I would like to do that as well." A small smile catches at her own lips in return for his, Roslyn's expression softening at the thought of sleep, perhaps. She adds, somewhat wry, "Though if you are sleeping for a week, I shall have to sleep for a month."
"How very forward," Kittridge jokingly misinterprets Roslyn's statement, "But I suppose it is hardly the time to deny you anything, is it?" His smile tilts as he teases, and then he nods, "A month sounds good to me. Though it will set back your trip to the Roost somewhat. Perhaps they will all be sleeping, too. The whole Cape should just take a collective nap."
"No, I am liable enough to cry right at this moment as it is," Roslyn points out reasonably, for all that her smile remains on her lips at his teasing. "You shall have to suggest it, my lord. Then we can have a moment's peace."
"We cannot have that," Kittridge replies, "Not if it is in my power to prevent it, certainly." He smiles back, still with that faintly teasing cant to his smile, though it's really just more like his usual, pre-kidnapping-ordeal smile, always on the edge of joking. "I will suggest it to the others before we depart," he says, "I am sure they would be as glad of a moment's peace as we would. Except perhaps your brother," he jokes, "I am not convinced he is familiar with the concept."
Roslyn does laugh at that, though it barely holds any force to it as the sound frees itself from her lips. She answers, "I am sure now would be a good time for my lord brother to learn. As good a time as any, really." She pauses, the weight of her gaze sliding over Kittridge for a long moment. She adds, quietly, "No, I am sure you would never make me cry." There is a hint of wryness to her tone, though something more plays at her expression, a darker spot of emotions to her thoughtful eyes.
"I would hope not to," Kittridge replies, and then offers another flare of humored smile, "Unless you are one to cry with laughter or joy, of course." He grins briefly, and then glances over his shoulder, turning back to say, "I should get back to my sister. Safe journey home, lady. I will see you in the Roost in a few days, unless we all decide to sleep in for a while longer first."
"If only the Riverlands would all agree, my lord, but I shall at least look forward to seeing you there," Roslyn answers with a smile of her own, though she does not rise to curtsy, given that she still is wrapped in a blanket.
"I will as well," Kittridge replies. He bows (graceful as always if somewhat less elegant than usual given his general scruffy exhaustion), and touches her shoulder briefly as he steps past, fingers just resting on it with the faintest lingering pressure before he heads away back towards his family.
At least on her part, Roslyn's reaction to even so little of a touch is to tense, straighten. Her gaze drags after Kittridge, perhaps a bit shiny with tears that threaten though they are held back. Then she turns to her own food, waiting on her own family.