|Summary:||The feast in memory of Lord Aleister and Lady Miranda Ashwood.|
|Related Logs:||The logs involving the disappearances, and deaths, of Aleister and Miranda.|
|Great Hall, Tanglewood Manor|
|A true testament to the nobility and grandeur of the ruling family, this enormous hall serves as the main gathering and feasting area of Highfield Keep, with a high, vaulted ceiling and tall, narrow windows lining the outer walls, allowing sunlight to stream through. Two long feasting tables, accompanied by benches, serve as a comfortable place to enjoy a meal or quiet discussion and flank the path to the raised dais at the upper end of the chamber. It sets apart those who oversee this Keep and the surrounding lands - a pair of high-backed, elegantly carved chairs none-too-subtly emulating the thrones one might picture in the houses of royalty.|
|A vibrant display of banners decorates the wall behind these; namely the crowned wolf of Highfield, on its field of gold. Cautiously concealed behind these, hidden behind heavily draping curtains unless tied back to allow fresh air to circulate, a set of smaller double doors lead to the gardens beyond. Above, at the peak of the hall's roof and wall, a vast window allows light to pour in through leaded glass stained with vibrant hues, depicting the Seven in carefully inlaid detail. A huge fireplace along the length of the right wall is more oft than not alight and crackling with every fresh log that is tossed into its embers.|
|Saturday January 12 290|
Tanglewood Manor, the legacy left behind by the Lord Aleister Ashwood. With the flags at half mast, the entire manor has been a place of mourning ever since that gruesome day when the truth of Aleister and Miranda Ashwood's disappearance was made known. Yet, today is not a day to mourn amongst the Ashwoods. Today is a day to celebrate, for even if Aleister's life was cut short, those who knew him well were blessed to experience the man's presence. In the Great Hall, a feast has been prepared the likes of which is rarely seen. All manners of delicious food has been put forth, the drinks are flowing like a waterfall, and laughter and cheer can be heard throughout the entire manor.
Near the head of the table sits Bastien, the Young Lord of house Ashwood. Dressed in finery that displays the Ashwood colors, the young man's stoicism has gone from being a blanket and turned itself into a shield. At least he's no longer locked himself in his room, right?
Sitting among the Ashwoods is Lyanna, the young Ambassador of House Frey to Highfield. Her dark brown hair is twirled into the form of a snail at the back of her head and held in place by pins of silver. Her deep blue eyes cast a glance about the Hall, the expression on her pale face is composed and calm, although the tightening of her jaw now and then hints that this calm might be a forced one. She wears a dress of plain elegance without any glitter and adornment, its sombre dark blue and dark grey stressing the fact that House Frey shows its support for the Ashwoods in this dark hour.
Standing behind her at the wall is Lyanna's septa, a woman in her early forties, whose gaze lingers on her lady with a concerned frown. Obviously this past week hasn't been an easy one for neither the lady nor the septa. Beside her stands one of the Frey guards, his cold gaze devoid of emotion as he casts a vigilant glance here and there - although nothing that required his intervention has happened so far. But who knows, with wine flowing and tempers rising, what the afternoon holds in store.
Entering the Great Hall with a slow and nonchalant pace, Daryl Ashwood is wearing attire fitting the feast, rather than his typical deputy get up, and on his arm is one Aemy Erenford, with her Septa not trailing too far behind. Notably, Redmond, her guard is on the wall nearby with an ever watchful eye. Daryl leans down to whisper a few words to the blonde beside him, a small smile rising on his countenance as he does so, leading the woman across the hall and towards one of the many tables offering food and drink. He seems to be in good enough spirits, as a few more soft, polite murmurings come accompanied by a small laugh. Looking up and away from Aemy for a moment, he takes in the sights of the hall, a faint and thoughtful smile set on his features as he does so. "It's better to see it like this…Than how its been as of recent." He asides at normal volume to Aemy, even as he gives a small nod to a passing house retainer, but rarely lets his attention drift from her for long. There is a look to Bastien then, and his smile falls to a bit of a thin, neutral line and his shoulders fall just a bit.
Ser Otto Erenford and his wife, Lady Muirenn make their entrance into the great hall, locked at the elbows and both dressed in fine attire and keeping close to each other. Otto still has that newlywed glow about him, as could be expected of someone who wasn't as frivolous prior to marriage as others might be. Here lately, the couple have been 'fashionably late' to every event they'd been invited to, but somehow they managed to make it out of their room on time this day.
Maybe it was the flowing booze that drew the largest of the Erenfords out with such haste, maybe it was the idea of getting here soon and leaving early, regardless he looks to his wife once they make their entrance and smiles, "What can I get you to drink, my love? Or, should we go make our introductions first?" Otto asks Muirenn. "You're more familiar with these larger functions than I, so why don't you lead the way."
Tia is seated with her husband, settled comfortably beside him. Her clothing is also in Ashwood colours, but subdued, darker than usual. Her fingers show signs of some trauma, most of the pads having been worked til they were raw. On her harp, most like. Her own maid and guard are around, but helping to keep an eye on things more than just her, given she's with her husband. She looks over at Saethwyr, and slips a hand beneath the table to find his own hand, quietly. And stays quiet, just watching as everyone does their thing.
Also dressed in Ashwood colors, darker than he would usually wear them, Robben has taken his place at the Ashwood table, expression rather carefully kept relatively neutral for the moment. Leaning over to offer some quiet words to Bastien, before he looks over at the entrance of Aemy and Daryl, gaze following them for a few moments before he offers them a nod and a smile, then looks back into the room to see the other people present.
You whisper, "Time to nod and smile for the people again, I guess. Happy memories, brother. That helps." to Bastien.
"Condolences first my lord…then we will find ourselves a corner and you can get us something to drink." Dressed exceedingly well in a charcoal grey adorned with mother of pearl, Muirenn looks as regal as befits a Mallister. Always known amongst her friends and family for her strength of character, she possesses a sureity of bearing…a confidence that was not there prior to her wedding. Navigating through the crowds with Otto, using their height to their advantage, the couple make their way toward the Lords of Ashwood. As they near her good-cousin and Daryl, the young woman's eyes narrow slightly and she gives a slight shake of her head before bending and murmuring something inaudible to her husband.
Already seated at the main table, Erik appears to be doing his best to enjoy the feast though one who knows him well can tell that his good cheer is a little forced. Most of his time his face is hidden behind the goblet of wine, though the amount that he is drinking can't be seen. Instead of the usual hardened leather armor that a Sheriff usually attires himself with, the Jast Knight is garbed in formal noble finery as well though the black ribbon tided around his upper right arm is rather prominent. For the time being, Erik is content with just letting his gaze sweep the room and the arriving guests.
Brennart heads into the great hall for the feast and glances around and of course heads over to the Ashwoods to offer his condolences but he may pause when he spots his cousin on the arm of the deputy he gives his head a little shake to clear it before he grabs himself a goblet of wine before he continues on.
Muirenn's words have a subtle effect on the large man as Otto gives her a nod. As they arrive at the table, he offers a bow. "Lords of Ashwood, and deputy…" Otto begins, narrowing his eyes for a moment towards Daryl before bringing his gaze back to the young nobles, "On behalf of myself and of House Erenford, we offer our sincerest condolences for your loss. Though I only knew Lord Aleister but for a brief moment, that moment brought respect. I consider it an honor to have at least known the man, even if briefly, for he was a man of intelligence and honor." With that said, Otto bows once more and looks to his beautiful, and tall wife, looking to see if she had anything to add.
Wearing a dress of green so dark it almost appears black, Aemy Erenford arrives on the arm of Daryl Ashwood amid the obvious disapproval of her family. Her Septa remains at a sedate pace behind them, her eagle eyes searching for anything even remotely improper. Leaning in to respond, Aemy inclines her head towards her family at the main table, greeting Bastien. Daryl's small laugh captures her attention and she nods somewhat hesitantly to his whispered statement a slight frown puckering her forehead. Seeing Brennart, she offers a supportive smile to her cousin, despite his disapproval.
House Ashwood is new and while an up and coming house still below the House of her birth. Muirenn rarely gives full honors to anyone; however, in this instance in honor of the deceased and in recognition of the Ashwood family's grief the young woman permits herself a curtsy. "I know grief and how the loss of the family's leader can cause a sense of extreme loss on so many levels. You have my condolences. There is nothing that I could say that can fill the void, but know that my sympathies are heartfelt and sincere." Rising with fluid grace, she adds "I met Lord Aleister only once, but he seemed to be a man quite determined and full of a vision for his family and his House."
Bastien simply nods to the words whispered by his brother. As people start to file into the hall and make themselves comfortable, the large man sips silently at his own goblet of wine and simply watches. After a short while, when everyone looks to have settled into their places, but before any heavy mingling starts, the large Ashwood pushes himself out of his chair and lifts the goblet forward and into the air to hopefully silence those in attendance. "I would like to thank all of you for coming to both the funeral and feast that we've held in honor of our dear departed family. Miranda was an innocent soul, and perhaps the only member of my family to truly wear her heart on her sleeve. She showered any who would allow it with love and adoration, regardless of their standing. She was the favorite, not because she aspired to it, but because she was truly the best amongst us." He pauses for a moment, letting his words sink in before continuing. "Aleister…" Another pause, as Bastien seems to second guess himself, before finally continuing. "I will not build him up to be something he is not. I will not fabricate his behavior and act as if he was some sort of saint that deserves reverence. We all knew Aleister, in some way. To some he was a lover, to others he was a friend, and to a select few he was a right bastard, but to me? To me, he was a man who kept me moving forward when my feet refused to budge. When other eyes passed over me and saw nothing, he saw my potential, and taught me to grasp onto it. When others cast me aside, he showed me a love that only brothers can share." Lifting his other hand, he motions towards the feast that rests before those in attendance. "To Aleister and Miranda Ashwood, may their souls find peace and may they always know of the love we hold for them."
Dressed similar to his lady wife, and to many others of his House, Saethwyr is wearing his house colours, though of a darker shade than what it would normally choose. Seated next to Tiaryn, he is as quiet as he usually is. Beneath the table, his fingers find though of his lady wife, twining with them to give a gentle squeeze, his dark-eyed gaze turning to her. He gives her a little smile, for the comfort of her touch. As Bastien speaks, Saethwyr's attention shifts to him, though he remains quiet himself for the time being.
Having arrived and offered his condolences awhile ago Alric is not lingering off to the side and mostly keeping to himself. The black ribbon still worn around his wrist Sitting and letting his eyes look between all the people around. Though not saying much. A small smile does show upon his face though.
Daryl returns his younger cousin Robben's smile with one of his own, returning the nod and scanning emerald hues across the room. Tiaryn is spotted, and he raises his free hand to make an exaggerated 'harp-playing' gesture before offering a wink. That warm smile of his follows to Lyanna, meeting her gaze for a brief few seconds before Erik is observed. Ahh of course. Daryl just lets a very small sigh escape his lips, and as he notices murmurings, shaking of heads and eye narrows, he simply gives Aemy a reassuring sort of look, his visage calm. Standing not too far from the table where Otto and Muirenn offer condolences, he dips his head in a short, acknowledging nod, despite the lack of mentioning of his dear little sister. Perhaps he had expected as such. There's a small whisper to Aemy then.
"Let’s," Daryl encourages in response to Aemy's hushed response, and he moves to lead her towards the Ashwood section of the table, finding an open spot and gently leading his hooked arm from hers as he lets her sit down first, before he'll move around to the other side and sit across, beside Erik. As he hears Bastien speak up, and first of Miranda, he clears his throat softly, head dipping for just a moment with eyes closed. He nods in agreement with what his older cousin and Lord Ashwood says, before moving to raise his goblet some in a discrete toast of reverance, "To Aleister and…Miranda." There's a distinct look of appreciation sent Bastien's way then.
The Frey Ambassador sits close enough to Bastien to overhear most of the condolences being offered to him. As the recently wed couple approaches, Lyanna looks up from her hardly touched plate, her features brightened by a little smile. She remains silent though, her gaze going from Otto to Bastien and back, as she listens attentively. Leaning a bit forward as Muirenn speaks, the Frey casts her an assessing yet not unfriendly glance. The lady in question is an Erenford now - and noone could hold her Mallister origin against her.
Bastien's welcoming speech proves a severe test to Lyanna's countenance. When Miranda is mentioned her deep blue eyes cloud and she quickly covers them with one hand, the other on the table making a fist as her body tenses. It takes a little moment to regain her composure, which she has successfully accomplished, by the end of Bastien's speech. Daryl's warm smile is answered with a smile of hers and a reassuring nod, as she is aware of his trouble with the family of his betrothed. The Frey lady raises her glass then to join Bastien's toast. "To Lady Miranda. And Lord Aleister."
Robben takes a few deep breaths as Bastien rises, nodding a bit as he hears the words spoken. Most of his attention on Bastien as he listens, there's a bit of a smile on his face, although those that know him probably can sense the effort spent in keeping it in place. Listening rather quietly until the end, he lifts his own goblet now, echoing the words of the toast, rather quietly.
As folks offer condolences, Tia just bows her head. She offers a small smile for her husband, and then raises her glass to join in the toast, as it's offered up. A sip, and then she sets the glass down, closing her eyes for a moment. She's looking just a tad tired, but with all that is happening, it's no wonder.
With Tiaryn looking as tired as she does, Saethwyr keeps a closer eye on her. And as he does so, there's a bit of worry to him. Thus there is a bit of a delay in him reaching out to his own glass to lift it and join in the toast and echo the words of it, though his voice is quiet in doing so. A sip of wine is taken, and he finds himself looking into the glass for a moment before setting it aside. His attention shifts back to Tiaryn, and he tilts his head faintly to one side. "Are you feeling all right, my dear?" he asks softly, a thread of worry chasing through his words.
The eyes of the Jast Knight does spot his Deputy and his betrothed in his arms approaching, inclining his head respectfully to both though remaining silent. When the toast was made, Erik goes through the proper motions with his goblet of wine, speaking the same words as the others though his eyes do darken a bit at the mention of the innocent Miranda being slain, apparently affected him more than one would think. That is followed by Lord Aleister, a Lord and leader that showed great promise to bring this House to greatness. With the toast finished, the young noble knight brings the goblet to his lips and drains the rest of the contents before putting it back down on the table so a serving girl can refill it.
Rarely is Muirenn ever just outright ignored, especially when she is attempting to be sincere, she accepts it in good grace and says nothing…however it is doubtful that she will forget this slight of Bastien's. With gentle pressure to her husband's arm so that he accompanies her, she abandons the young Lord and turns to Daryl. Regarding him silently, she finally says "Were something to happen to my brother, my heart would break never to be repaired the same. No matter my personal feelings on events that have and will transpire, please know that I am most sincerely sorry for your loss. I am sure that my husband will agree that to lose a close sibling is one of the worst tragedies." She gives Daryl a bit of a curtsy and then looks up to Otto murmuring, "My love, I should like some wine so that I might offer a toast."
As far as toasts go, it was a very touching one, especially given the usual stoic mannerisms of the man giving it. Aemy pauses a moment to listen, her expression changing very little except for a brief glance shared with Robben, trying to convey support to him as she has a seat beside Daryl. Leaning in again just slightly, never beyond the limits of propriety, she smiles at something Daryl utters softly and she replies almost as quietly. Lifting her own goblet to the toast, she drinks before lowering the drink back to the table and offering te Sheriff a polite smile.
Otto nods to Bastien's words, then looks to his wife as she speaks. With a light smile, he gives his wife a nod and leads her away to get a much needed drink. "I think we can skip the toast, though," he says softly to Muirenn as they walk. "We'll do our time, have a few drinks, some dinner, then find a reason to depart if you'd like. I'm not fond of large ordeals with a lot of unfamiliar people anyway." He keeps his voice soft, so that only Muirenn and maybe someone very close by could overhear.
Tia leans in against her husband for a moment, and then she nods her head. "I'm fine, just did not sleep so well last night," she murmurs to him. She then glances over at Muirenn and Otto, with a smile. Not that she hears their conversation, but she does note their presence and is glad to see them. She looks to find both Daryl and Robben, making sure they're okay as well. And poor Bastien up there. Sigh. She shakes her head a bit, then lets her gaze flicker over the area, ever so briefly.
Daryl lets the goblet rest a little longer on his lips before setting it down on the table before him. The Ashwood tilts his head to his side where the Jast Knight sits, seeing his expression, the look in his eyes. He dips his head one more time before leaning an arm over to set it upon the man's back briefly. He leans in to offer a few hushed words, in which his hand clenches in tension, gripping the mans shoulder. His jaw tenses then and straightens, tilting his head down to receive Aemy's words and a very genuine and warm smile comes on his features. "…Thank you, M'lady."
His face is nearly a picture of shock then, when Muirenn approaches, to him of all people, to offer her condolences personally on the loss of his sister. "Admist my other troubles, it is one that outweighs everything greatly…A burden I sincerely hope you nor your Lord husband would ever have to bare, save for a peaceful one after a full, happy life. Thank you dearly, M'lady. Your words are most kind."
Amongst the Ashwoods, segregated a bit due to their blood and birth, is the freshly appointed courier arm-in-arm with the freshly anointed knight. Like so many others of the house, Sela is in a gown of somber dove grey that is accented in black, though the demured colors only seem to make those vibrant blue eyes more radiant beneath the slight sweep of dark bangs. She leans in to whisper something against Darek's ear before she offers him the smallest of smiles. She listens to the soft notes of condolence from the various nobles of the Cape.
After setting down his goblet to finalize the toast, Bastien quietly speaks. "Please, enjoy yourselves." Walking over to Muirenn, the large man bows his head. "I must apologize, I was lost in thought. I wanted to say something…worthy of their memories." His gaze rises slightly to meet her own. "It has wrenched at our hearts in a way we never truly thought possible. Your well wishes are appreciated. Truly." Looking over towards Daryl, the large man contemplates for a moment before lifting a hand to pat the man's shoulder. "Be well."
Darek has been here all along, sitting or standing with Sela as appropriate. He doesn't have fancy new clothes for the feast, but since he showed a trend toward wearing black even before the tragedy, his black leather jacket, shirt, and leather pants suit well enough. Just to make sure, he's added a band of black cloth tied about his upper arm. He joins in with the toast from the upper tables, raising his glass, drinking, and lowering it again. One corner of his mouth quirks up at Sela's whisper, and he nods his head, "If I thought they wouldn't throw me out of the hall, I'd have brought my fiddle."
Feeling the hand of his Deputy on his shoulder, Erik turns his head slightly so he can give them an a glance. Hearing the words whispered though, there is a slight tension that can be seen and felt within the Jast Knight. Though he has no words to answer Daryl, there is a nod of understanding given though for a very brief moment, there is an actual look of naked vulnerability from the young noble that has always appeared to be invincible. However, that expression quickly fades as armor made out of will and strength closes around what is hidden, Erik composing himself, the neutral and passive visage donned once more.
A small smile touches at the corners of his lips, and Saethwyr gives a little nod to her words. "That is understandable, with all that has happened," he says gently to her. Understanding doesn't stop him from worrying about her, though. His gaze wanders over other members of his family without lingering on anyone in particular, but returns back to Tiaryn.
There's a momentary smile and a brief nod to Aemy at the silent support, and also a brief smile to Tiaryn, before Robben lets his gaze wander the hall again for a few brief moments now. Taking another sip from his goblet, he also takes a few deep breaths while looking down to the table very briefly. Trying to compose himself a little, perhaps? When looking up again, he's gotten the smile back in place, once more looking around the room now. Keeping silent for the moment, though.
Having been a quiet spectator in the Hall, Ser Ozric makes to leave his perch, now that Bastien has begun to move from his place. A quick glance about the room and the One Eye'd knight-dressed appropriately for the occasion- takes time to mingle his way, ever closer towards the Ashwood Lord. He is of course careful not to interrupt- such things as words of condolences, can wait.
About to reply to her husband, Muirenn's hand pauses midway to picking up a goblet of wine when Bastien approaches. After a moment she picks up the glass. Turning she inclines her head, "I do understand the sentiment Lord Ashwood. I always feel for those who must suffer. My family knows truly how painful it can be. I would, perhaps.." she adds gently, "..venture to suggest if you ever wished to speak with one who had to take the reins of leadership before intended you may wish to write to my cousin Lord Mallister." Smiling the tall young woman stretches out a delicate hand and rests it gently on Bastien's arm for a moment before it is withdrawn. Lifting her goblet of wine she takes a sip and rests her head on Otto's shoulder, there has been too much death in her life over the last year and she draws what comfort she can from her husband.
Otto listens as Bastien approaches and speaks to his wife, sipping at his own glass of wine. He remains silent, for now at least, his eyes drifting around the room, often finding their way to Daryl and Aemy with a look of sheer disgust present each time he spots the two of them so close. He takes a deep breath and pulls his attention away and shakes his head, muttering something about improprieties of nobles associating openly with commoners.
Aemy remains silent as Daryl greets the Sheriff, withdrawing a black ribbon from a small pouch, twin Ashwood crests embroidered on the surface. With a deft movement, she begins tying it around the upper arm of Daryl, should he allow her to. "Just.. something for you," she whispers as she finishes tying it in place around his muscular arm. While he is busy whispering to the sheriff she looks over at Robben… Placing a hand on Daryl's forearm, she gently excuses herself. "I will be right back." Rising, she approaches Robben, offering another smile. "Lord Robben, might I speak with you?" Indicating the chair beside him, seeking permission to intrude upon his attention, completely missing Otto's reaction.
Daryl gives Erik a small nod then as he too looks straight ahead with a rather neutral countenance, until he feels a large hand set on his shoulder, looking up to find…Bastien? Well, today's full of surprises. Usually that touch would be ready to smack him across the head rather than give his shoulder a squeeze and offer comforting words, albeit two. He gives a firm nod in response, his visage unmoving. "You as well."
He stops a passing retainer, speaking a few hushed words and then nodding a touch as he glances down the length of the table towards where the young commoner couple sits. In doing so, he catches one of Otto's glares, his gaze unmoving for a moment, but there is little reaction. He feels Aemy's delicate touch then, and he turns to observe the ribbon she placed around his arm, and his expression softens a moment, his words coming out softly but genuinely, "…Thank you, M'lady." Though it’s a repeat of his last words to her, this has more emotion to them. He nods to Aemy as she excuses herself, "Take your time." His eyes remain on her then, lost in a few moments of considering thought, a warmth in his eyes visibly present.
That retainer Daryl had spoke to soon walks up to Darek and Sela, setting down a small piece of parchment between the two of them.
Sipping from her glass of wine Lyanna leans forward, listening curiously to the conversation between Muirenn and Bastien and raising a brow as the lady mentions her Mallister cousin. Otto's disgusted glance towards Daryl however does catch her eye, and shifting slightly in her seat she is about to say something to Robben when Aemy approaches. And while it might seem rude to intrude on any conversation started off in a confidential manner as that, the Frey lady offers Daryl's betrothed a warm smile and a nod, as she leans back in her chair to indicate she does not intend to overhear them. But trying to do so just the same.
There is a slight quirk of her brow at the mention of the fiddle, and Sela smiles. "You can be morose on the fiddle, I'm sure you wouldn't have been asked to depart. Ser use to sing at these affairs, didn't he?" Then she turns toward the Mallisters that are present, and Muirenn's suggestion causes a bit of a tightness in the courier's shoulders. Loyalties can be taught after all, and sworn to a Frey vassal causes instant reactions, it would seem. She relaxes within moments, her arm still swept up with Darek's. Just as she is about to pull the Knight along to grab another drink, however, the note appears. She looks at it precariously before those big blue eyes lift toward Daryl. She picks up the note gently and opens it to reveal the scrawl of handwriting. She is not shy to share it with Darek, reading through the lines of script a few times. Then she nods, casting Daryl a slight smile.
Robben offers a quiet smile to Aemy as she speaks to him, nodding a little as he turns his attention fully to her now. "Of course, my lady," he offers, a bit quietly. Looking over to Lyanna as well, with a bit of a nod and a smile, before his attention goes fully back to Aemy again now. "How can I help you, Lady Aemy?"
Glancing towards her husband, Muirenn just nods and comments softly "My own lord, it is not the venue. There is nothing that shall happen that cannot wait until tomorrow to be addressed." It is clear that while the young woman is well bred enough to not start trouble at social functions, there is something clearly going on she does not approve of. With another long sip of wine, she adds with a faint smile "We have given our sympathies and you have given me what I asked. Shall we take our leave?" Rising tiptoe, she whispers again into the man's ear…a twinkle in her eyes that is not entirely appropriate to the air of sadness around them.
Tia gets to stay where she is, no sign of her harp. Which does bring her to, "I should get my harp." She looks at Saethwyr for a long moment, and then at her fingers. "I would I think like to play." Though she did not hear the talk of the fiddle, still she's had several days without any harp at all, and it's taking its toll on her.
Darek nods at Sela's response, "Yup. But I didn't want to presume…" He shrugs his shoulders a little helplessly, "I mean… Ser can just sing on cue. I've gotta have my fiddle with me already to be ready to play." Once more, his lips flicker into a momentary smile before the amusement is flattened away once more, "It's outside with a page." The arrival of the note draws a puzzled frown onto his features, and he leans over Sela's shoulder to read the note, "The horse? Sure he's not misspelling whores?" The words are quiet, grumbled under the young knight's breath.
Bastien nods silently as Muirenn's advice is given. "A letter would not be out of the question." Otto's glance is not missed, but rather than start any drama at a celebration to his brother's life, the large man simply shakes his head and excuses himself from the group of people before making his way back towards his seat and settling down to have a bite to eat.
When he catches a chance, Ozric slides his way towards Bastien, one hand out offered out towards the Lord Ashwood. "Ser.." His voice deep and somber as his hand remains out to grasp the other man's forearm. "I shall not interrupt your meal long.." The Young Lord Terrick says softly. "I just wished to convey my condolences to you and your family… And know that House Terrick stands by you know and will still in the future." A glance to the Lord before he looks off, catching sight of someone, or something. "I did not know Lord Aleister well, but I did heard tales of his valor and honor. From that I can deduce that he was a good man."
"I could use some fresh air," Otto says to Muirenn. "Though, you don't have to depart as well if you'd like to stay, my love." He takes a deep breath and leans to kiss his wife on the cheek. "I just can't stand to keep peering over and seeing that scum," he adds softly.
Aemy just gives Daryl a warm smile when he thanks her again, words not necessary at the moment, a quick smile when he offers for her to take her time. Beside Robben now, awaiting his response, the Erenford offers a polite curtsy to the Frey accompanied by a friendly smile. "Nothing confidential," her eyes glittering with a measure of amusement as she takes the seat beside Robben, attempting to include Lyanna as well, not having meant to make the conversation exclusive. "I only wanted to offer my condolences formally, my Lord. And to… to remind you that you are stronger than you imagine.." Perhaps saying more without verbally speaking it. "My lady," shifting her gaze to the Frey now, her voice soft as she speaks, "I understand your sadness, Lady Miranda was my greatest ally and friend."
"No, horse," Sela says with a slight smugness in response to the Knight's grumble. "I'll explain later." She folds the note up gently, tucking it into the black sash tied about the curve of her hips. A soft kiss is deposited to Darek's cheek before she steps aside to fetch them two goblets of wine — fuck to the watered down stuff too. She goes straight for the strong. She offers the first mug to Darek, claiming the second for herself.
With a nod to the giant man, Muirenn returns the gesture of affection and replies softly "I will join you shortly my lord." Fingers gently stroke Otto's arm as she releases him from her side with some reluctance; however, even though they have barely been wed a full week it wouldn't be right for both of them to show up only to immediately leave. With a smile, she turns and goes to take a seat not near anyone else where there is a decent view of the guests.
Bastien looks up as his arm is grasped, meeting Ozric's eyes and listening to what the man has to say. Setting his fork down, he turns in his chair and gives a respectful nod to the man and replies, "Your words are reassuring, and I thank you for them Lord Ozric." The large man seems to be settling back into his stoicism, his coming out from behind that shell is less an act of want and more an act of trying to honor those lost.
Saethwyr raises an eyebrow slightly at the mention of the harp, his dark gaze holding to her. "You would always like to play your harp, my dear heart. Your fingers, I think, could use a day or a few more to heal from the last time you did so, though," he says gently, a thread of worry in his voice. He doesn't want her fingers to be bleeding, again. His dark gaze lowers to her fingers, turning her still captured hand over within his own in order to take a look at their injured tips.
Darek eyes Sela sidelong as she re-corrects him, letting his hand trail at the small of her back as she steps away. He doesn't stare after her in maudlin fashion, however, instead taking the chance to run the fingers of first one hand and then the other through his long hair. The motion seems calming, and when the newly-minted courier returns, he offers a smile that might be apologetic and takes the offered cup, "Terricks, Erenfords… no Haighs. I wonder if that says something…"
Tia pauses for a moment, and then she looks over to Jacob. "Go get my harp, please," she instructs the guard. He departs to do so, and Tia turns back to Saethwyr. "Alright, but I would like to hear a harp, m lord. If it is brought, I am certain there is someone here who will play?" A compromise offered up.
Is there a slight hint of disappointment in Lyanna's deep blue eyes as Aemy denies any confidentiality in what she is about to say to Robben? The strange flicker is gone as quick as it came, as the Erenford lady's words, especially the latter remark meant for her, manage to make the Frey lady speechless. Her eyes clouding with grief, she drops her gaze to the plate before her, the corners of her mouth twitching at an attempt of a brave smile. Clearing her throat Lyanna replies: "I hardly knew her long enough to call her friend. But I am sad that she had to go. And you… you must be devastated." Her gaze is raised to meet that of Aemy, and it is filled with both grief and sympathy.
Ozric offers his own dip of his head there before he looks back towards the Lord. "I understand, you are busy at the moment but I shall remain as I would like to speak with you, when you do not have so much company." Ozric offers softly before nodding. "Seven be with you and your family." And with that, the Terrick Lord peels away, allowing Bastien time to eat.
Saethwyr tilts his head faintly to one side as he watches his lady wife, and then he gives a small nod after considering the offered compromise. "Fair enough, my dear. A compromise," he says softly, a small smile touching at the corners of his lips. He's willing to accept that, at least, being at least moderately reasonable.
Daryl raises the goblet before him for a long swig before it is drained, and he just stares straight ahead for a few moments and nothing in particular, in thought. His eyes fall to the table surface as he moves to raise the pitcher oncemore to refill his cup. Out of the corner of his eye, he spots Ozric, and his jaw tightens just a degree. There's a glance at the Jast beside him and he offers somewhat quietly, "…You know this is supposed to be a celebration of life, right?" The words are an attempt at lightening his mood, but by his tone aren't to be taken too seriously. Then, he raises that goblet again… Gulp, gulp, before leaning back just a bit to take a peek over in Aemy's direction. He glances to Erik again, and offers an attempt at humor, whispered in quiet tones to the man, "…You know, if looks of disgust were daggers, i'd be in pieces right now?? Then he spots Lyanna's reaction to something that was said, and he clears his throat, rising, "…Excuse me." He moves to step over to Lyanna then, goblet in hand and speak a few hushed tones, following them with a very soft smile. "…Today is to celebrate, the life she -lived.- I can say with no hesitation that my sister was a gift from the Gods, sent to this plane to guide and show what it is to be perfect. Loving and kind. Raise a smile for her." Then, he again spots Ozric as he turns, and offers a small nod, but little more, before his attention goes back to Aemy and Robben, and he moves to step aside for the moment, not too far…Just away from the hustle and bustle.
"Thank you, Lady Aemy. I'm not sure if you know just how much I appreciate it," Robben offers a bit quietly. Looking like something's about to break the smile he's working on keeping on his face, before he hears the rest of it. Then the smile, that faltered a bit just moments before, is kept more firmly in place, before he listens to the words of the two ladies, about Miranda. Nodding a little bit as he listens to them both, he takes a bit of a breath again, before he speaks. "I don't know if anyone can say it better than how my brother said it. She truly was the best amongst us. Of all people I know, she was one of the rare kind that made people better for just knowing her." A brief pause, before he adds, "She may be gone, but she will never be forgotten. None of them will." Taking another sip from his drink now, rather quietly.
If Aemy noticed the hint of disappointment in the Freys eyes, there is no indication of it in her demeanor, her expression just as open as it always seems to be, the vivid blue if her eyes remaining on the lady a moment, expression softening at the attempt of a brave smile. "There are very few people who are so lovely both inside and out. Lady Miranda was one." Resting her gaze back on Robben as he speaks, she smiles ever so slightly. "I think I do, my lord. I agree both with you and your brother." Glancing up as Daryl joins, though her eyes settle on his goblet instead.
"I know." Erik answers briefly and with a nod of his head and as if to show that he knows, the young knight lifts his filled goblet to his lips for a long sip though the amount he drinks isn't as much for one who has the cup there for that duration of time. As for the comment about daggers though, the Jast Knight manages a smirk, "Indeed. Though I am sure that wars would be settled faster if that were true." When Daryl moves to excuse himself, Erik merely nods, doing nothing to delay the man. He is apparently content to just sit in his seat and enjoy the drinks as well as a little bit of the food.
Lyanna listens to Daryl's quiet words, her gaze a bit unsteady at first but then focusing on his face, as she nods. "Of course,… Master Daryl." A little hesitant perhaps to address him in such a manner. "I will always keep her in my memory as the kind young lady that she was." There, finally, the corners of her mouth move upwards in a smile. Then her gaze is on Robben. "I know, Lord Robben. That is what makes it so hard." But the Frey does look thankful for the offered kind words and smiles in Aemy's direction as she speaks. And she raises her glass. "Let us drink to that! That Lady Miranda may never be forgotten."
Daryl remains off to the side for now, someways between Erik and Robben, Aemy and Lyanna, but back some. As he hears Lyanna's toast, there's no hesitation in a step forward, a raise of his goblet high in the air, whether others join or not, he seems to care little. "Never forgotten!" Again that drink is lifted to his lips, and tilted back for another gulp. Whispered under his breath, "…My sweet baby sister." The look of far off thought in his eyes seems to suggest, that indeed, she will not be. Then those deep green orbs flit to Erik, and finally Aemy. He gives a little wiggle of his goblet, then holds up three fingers, shrugging lightly as if whatever he was trying to portray to her, it wasn't that big of a deal. His gaze finally settles on one of the flags at half mast.
Robben nods a little quietly as he hears both Aemy's and Lyanna's words. "Never forgotten!" he repeats Daryl's words, lifting his own goblet and draining the contents now. Another nod at Lyanna's words, he lets out a bit of a sigh. "I know that it's what makes things so hard, my lady. But I remember someone I knew who once said that it was the things that is hard that is the ones worth hanging on to." A brief pause, as he gets hold of some of the food, and some more wine now. Muttering something to himself as he does, quite absently.
Sela stands about with Darek, watching the nobles, raising her glass, and getting super drunk.
A few moments and the harp is returned. Okay, maybe more than a few moments, but still. With that beautiful instrument in hand, Tia stands and looks around the room. "Would anyone like to play some music?" she calls out. "I am regrettably unable or I would do so myself."
Her own goblet back at her place, Aemy reaches for one from a passing servants tray. When Lyanna is able to manage a smile, an approving nod is given to her. "I agree, may they never be forgotten," adding Aleister in there also, for the benefit of Robben. Her gaze drifts back to Daryl, smiling at the action, giving him a half smile as she lifts her goblet and takes a drink as well, a fleeting smile as she listens to Robben now. "Get better.. or get bitter.." Her further words of wisdom.
Aemy glances over at the question from Tia and bites her lip in indecision… Should she? Yes, decidedly she should. "I will play," she offers in a soft voice.
Lifting her goblet of wine, Muirenn sips at the toast. Almost inaudibly she murmurs with utter sadness "Never forgotten." Somehow to those who may be near, it doesn't seem that she is speaking about those with whom she was not acquainted. Another drink of the red liquid is taken and silently she closes her eyes as the warmth washes over her. Opening her eyes she sets the goblet aside and smoothes her hands over her skirts. After a moment's thought she calls out, "I cannot play, but I shall sing." Never does the lady sing in public, or at least rarely. Apparently, she has for some reason decided to make this a special occasion.
Saethwyr looks over to Aemy at her acceptance of the offer. "Thank you," he says to her. Then his attention turns back to Tiaryn. "It seems you will be able to have your harp music after all, my dear," he says softly, a gentle warmth to his voice. He is thankful for that, since he's the one that wouldn't allow her to play.
Tia smiles at Muirenn. "That would be well appreciated, My Lady," she says softly. And at Aemy's words, her smile broadens. "And thank you as well, Lady Aemy." She brings the harp over to Aemy, handing it over. In the process, Aemy will naturally see Tia's fingers, and recognize the marks as coming from playing harp for hours and hours on end, without stop. She then gives Saethwyr a smile, and a gentle nod of her head.
Daryl raises his brows as both Muirenn offers to sing, and then Aemy decides she'll play harp. Apparently this catches his attention, and the Ashwood ventures closer to the group, wanting to be within both clear visible sight and one of those closest to the two when they perform. He finds a seat once more, raising his goblet for another sip and leaning back a bit comfortably.
The promise of entertainment, and even of the musical sort does bring some spark back into Lyanna's eyes. Hesitating a little, she mutters more to herself: "Should I…?" followed by a sigh and a shake of her head. Another time perhaps. When she is no longer weakened by grief and the sleepless nights that follow a rather unpleasant and unwanted impression. The volunteers have her raise a curious brow, and she nods to Aemy with a pleasant smile. "You play the harp? I did not know you could play." Another glance is shot in Muirenn's direction, but this one assessing, rather, than pleasant. At least curious, about the singing ability of the former Mallister, whose kind words towards Daryl a bit earlier did leave a surprisingly positive impression on Lyanna.
Robben smiles a little bit as he nods now, listening to what's being said while he gets this whole eating and drinking part taken care of. Unable to hold back a smile, both at the offer of song and of music, his attention goes in that direction for the moment.
Rising, the newlywed Muirenn glides to the center of the hall. She glances at Aemy and smiles, "I will merely sing one song, do you wish to let me sing a few lines and then you can join in?" Looking around the young woman says to all, "Lords, ladies, sers, and all…" Inclining her head she looks across all the guests before turning to look over at Aemy, absently smoothing the dark silk across her slender hips in nervousness as redhead awaits her good-cousin's readiness.
Tia returns to sit by her husband, letting Aemy and Muirenn have center stage. She takes a breath, stifles a yawn, and waits to hear the magic that is about to come. Something she's definitely looking forward to. Her hand slips under the table again to find Saethwyr's, and she stays there, looking the very model of domestic bliss.
There is an almost imperceptible gasp as the harp is handed over either from the bandaged fingers or the beauty of the harp itself. Aemy lifts her gaze to settle on Tia, an almost reverent look in her eyes. "Are you certain, my lady?" Already drawing the instrument nearer, holding it gently. Watching the exchange between Tia and her new husband, there is a brief wistful expression before she looks up at Muiri, "Ready?" A brief look is cast at Lyanna along with an eager nod. "I am not so good, but I love playing…" And then she begins to.
Daryl sets his goblet down, now…Giving the two his full attention as he glances at Tiaryn and Saethwyr for a few long moments. Spotting the hand holding, the Deputy averts his eyes for a few moments, looking away and biting his bottom lip a touch. As he hears Aemy's words of 'I'm not so good,' he encourages loudly enough for her to hear with cupped hands, "You'll do great," Before shutting up so the two can perform, a charming smile offered to the Erenford Woman and then a glance back at Jast and an impressed raise of his brows, his look saying, 'Check this out.' Then, back on the two women.
Moistening her lips delicately, Muirenn closes her eyes and begins to sing. Though she can be heard throughout the hall, the song starts out softly the tune wistful.
"The ash grove how graceful,
how plainly 'tis speaking
The wind through it playing has language for me.
Whenever the light through its branches is breaking,
A host of kind faces is gazing at me.
The friends from my childhood again are before me
Each step brings a memory as freely I roam.
With soft whispers laden the leaves rustle o'er me
The ash grove, the ash grove alone is my home.”
The young woman's voice is sweet and steady, not professionally trained but not unpleasing.
"Certain," Tia says, with a nod. "and I am sure you both will do wonderfully. She listens with a skilled but friendly ear, one disposed to enjoy what she hears. And the song selected, with such wistful words, brings a sad look to Tia's face, and a squeeze of her fingers to Saethwyr's, though she manages to not cry. It's not an easy thing though.
Robben listens quietly at the moment, while finishing off the relatively small meal he got himself. Glancing over at Daryl for a few moments, before he looks back to the ladies making the music now, a more genuine smile sneaking through his expression at the moment.
The song is easy enough to follow along with as Aemy plucks her fingers over the strings, the soft, lilting music a complementary background to the lovely voice of the new Erenford. Her eyes move to Tiaryn as she plays the lady's beautiful instrument, As she continues plucking the strings she smiles at the encouragement from Daryl, though looks back down at the harp soon after.. a pensive expression on her face.
The skillfully performed song does manage to have Lyanna's gaze drift some place far way - a pleasant place, as the expression on her face suggests. After it is finished she raises her glass and inclines her head in true acknowledgement of the performance, and even more. "Oh, that was so beautiful, Lady Muirenn. And so very capably accompanied. Lady Aemy, I am impressed."
Daryl catches Robben’s look, offering an acknowledging nod, though the tilt of his face queries if Robben had just looked at him in passing or if there was meaning behind it. Then, a small smile passes over his features as they begin performing. A warm, proud look towards Aemy, though soon the words of the song and general feel of it has him going silent, that staring into space again as he seems to get lost in the music, goblet raising slowly to mask the lower half of his features in a slow, steady sipping motion. While they still perform, again his gaze goes to Robben, a quick nod and sort of brave smile issues to his cousin. Following that, his eyes lock on Aemy and never leave.
A smile crosses Tia's face, as she listens to the absolutely beautiful song performed by the two women. She looks over to Daryl, watching as he watches Aemy, and then to Robben, and even Bastien, keeping an eye on her new family. She squeezes Saethwyr's fingers silently, and when the song comes to an end, she stays silent for a moment, before she says merely, "Beautiful."
The strength of her voice grows and Muirenn opens her eyes. Tears fill her eyes as she continues with the sad second verse and then the last verse, ending "…I lift up my eyes to the broad leafy dome, And others are there, looking downward to greet me. The ash grove, the ash grove, again is my home." Letting her voice trail away, she lifts a small square of linen and delicately dabs at her eyes. As compliments are offered, she ducks her head shyly and gives faint smiles in return. Glancing towards Bastien she gives a faint smile, "With your permission my lord, if I have not entirely displeased this gathering perhaps I might sing another song? A celebration of life now that I have paid homage to our respective grief and our memories."
Robben offers a bit of a smile to Daryl, along with a bit of a shrug now, before he looks to the performing women again. Nodding for a few moments, before he hears Muirenn's words to Bastien. Waiting for a few moments, before he speaks. "Hopefully my brother has the same answer as I would have," he offers. "Because I would love to hear another song, my lady." It's offered along with a brief smile now, looking towards his older brother for a few moments.
Once the song has ended, Aemy ceases playing, placing her hand over the strings to still the reverberation. Only then does she look up and meet Lyanna's gaze, a delicate pink stealing into her cheeks at the compliment. "Thank you, truly." Then to Tia, "Thank you my lady." Falling silent, fingers poised on the harp as Muirenn offers to sing another, in case she desires accompaniment once more. "I would love to hear you sing again, my lady." Smiling at Robben as he also offers an affirmative answer. Daring a glance to Daryl, she finds his gaze locked on her and she offers a tentative smile.
The glass is refilled, despite a slightly disapproving glance of the septa. Lyanna leans back in her chair, her eyes on Muirenn and Aemy. A smile is playing across her features as the Erenford by marriage suggests performing another song. Although the expression in her deep blue eyes is pensive. At least her cheeks have regained some colour, probably from to the wine. She remains there in her seat, listening quietly to the voices around her for a little longer - but a sudden weariness in her bearing suggests that the Frey lady will take advantage of her newly found peace at heart and retire soon to her chambers for a long overdue rest.
"Another, please!" Daryl speaks at moderate tone, and he moves to set that goblet to his lips once more…Wait. Its empty. Well, that simply won't do. Reaching for a nearby pitcher he fills his goblet once more and moves to raise it for another sip, a smile given to Muirenn, a small raise of his goblet in turn, and he catches another sight of Tiaryn and Saethwyr. He's not staring, but the look is long and thoughtful, almost envious before he realizes he's been peering for a moment more than is acceptable. Another sip of wine, a look to Aemy, and cue that charming smile that rarely comes nowadays, save with drink. The non-watered down kind.
If one would look back to where the Jast Knight is sitting, the seat is now empty though the goblet of wine is missing. It appears that as the song was drawing to a close and everyone's attention was focused on the talented and skilled musician and singer, the young noble had taken his leave to stretch his legs and perhaps get some fresh air.
Glancing towards Aemy, Muirenn says "I thought first to honor the memory of Lord Aleister. The first time I saw him was when the troops came to break the siege at Terrick's Roost. Most stories I have heard of him had to do with the battles and defeat of the Iron Isles so a tune perhaps to honor his memory in battle." Clasping her hands before her, the Erenford woman begins to sing. The song is one more martial in nature as befitting her thoughts, deftly turning the heron of the song to be on Lord Aleister Ashwood.
"O then, tell me Lord Ashwood,
tell me why you hurry so?
Hush a bit, hush and listen
And his cheeks were all aglow.
I bear orders from the Capt'n
Get you ready quick and soon
For the pikes must be together,
At the rising of the moon
By the rising of the moon,
By the rising of the moon
For the pikes must be together
At the rising of the moon"
The song continues as the pikes are gathered and the battle is fought, the hero of the song calling out his battle cry and rousing the troops to victory. Steady, sure, and relaxing into the music the young woman finishes with triumph over the enemy at the rising of the moon.
Following along after the first words drift so beautifully into the air as Lady Muirenn sings, Aemy plucks the strings a little firmer to match the more martial tune. Closing her eyes now as she plays, she just allows the words, the music to wash over her, peaceful… serene, her expression mirrors her emotions at the moment. In this she has found solace. For just a moment she continues to play even as the song ends, only to come back to the realization the words have ceased. Stilling the strings again, Aemy smiles even as she rises, "Beautiful, my lady." With graceful movements, she approaches Tiaryn, offering the harp back. "Thank you my lady, for allowing me to play in your stead. It was truly an honor." A curtsy is given the new Ashwood.
Glancing over at the departing Lyanna, Robben then looks back to listen to the song. His expression goes a bit distant, perhaps even a bit guarded as he listens now, taking another sip from his goblet as he leans back a bit in his seat. Then as the song, and the accompanying music, comes to an end he remains seated like he listened, expression distant, the goblet still in hand.
As this next song progresses, Daryl reacts a bit differently than the last. Where the previous one had him falling into deep memory of his deceased kin, this one has him drumming his fingertips along with the beat of the song, his head bopping as well with it. When the some comes to completion, he smiles in appreciation and delight, the wine in him bringing it about so much easier. As Aemy steps to hand over the harp, he looks at her somewhat expectedly, brows raising a touch as he dons a winning grin, "You were -amazing-, Lady Aemy. I told you so." A small, easy chuckle.
Tia accepts the harp back from Aemy with a smile, and a nod of her head. "You are very talented, Lady Aemy. Thank you for playing for us." She pauses to look over at Muirenn, and calls out, her voice projecting well enough, "And to you, Lady Muirenn, my thanks for your beautiful voice and well chosen songs. All our thanks." She sets the harp down, so Saethwyr doesn't have to worry about her playing it, and then she raises her glass. "A toast to the musicians," she calls. Well, why not?
Moving towards Lady Tiaryn, Muiri embraces her friend and laughs "You flatter me my lady. You are welcome one and all. I cannot wait until you and your lord come visit me at Heronhurst and we can make music together again. There is something so beautiful about the river that I did not expect when first I moved there." She nods to her new good-cousin, "My lady cousin, you have great talent and skill! That was beautiful accompaniment, thank you!"
Robben pauses for a few moments as his brain seems to have realized the music has ended. There's a few deep breaths, before he looks around again, that smile back on his face again now. "It was quite lovely music, my ladies," he offers, a bit quietly. "Thank you for giving us all this gift." Nodding a bit at Tiaryn's words, "To the musicians," he offers, raising his goblet now.
"Thank you, Lady Tiaryn, it was my pleasure." As Muiri approaches, she offers a quick embrace to her new good cousin. "Your voice is so lovely, thank you for allowing me to accompany you." Stepping away from the two now, she sashays back over to Daryl, a playful expression in her eyes. "Why thank you, Daryl. I am so happy you enjoyed it." Once Aemy takes her seat, she offers a sweet smile to Robben, "I am glad you liked it."
Tia returns Muirenn's hug, and she smiles. "In a couple days, I will be able to play again," she says. She must have played for /hours/ to wear her fingers to bleeding. Once that hug is over, she moves to give Aemy a hug as well, if the ohter woman will let her, before she lets Aemy return to Daryl and Robben.
Another toast? Of course. Any reason to drink is a good one for one Daryl Ashwood. With cheer, he hefts that goblet up high once more, looking to Muirenn and nodding his thanks, "Skillfully done, M'lady. My sincerest thanks." Then he finds Aemy's eyes, leaning in to whisper a few hushed words. "
Regarding Tia's fingers seriously Muirenn mmms, "I would give them another week dear friend, and I will send a salve from my supplies over. I know it is hard not to play, but you don't want to hurt your fingers again so soon after they have started to heal." Looking over at Daryl for a moment as he offers his thanks again, the young woman regards him seriously and then ducks her head slightly in acknowledgement.
Robben smiles as he listens now, with a bit of a nod to Aemy as he hears her words. Going silent as he looks between the others now, he thoughtfully drains the rest of the drink, making sure to get another refill. Looking rather thoughtful at the moment.
Aemy does hug Tia warmly before returning to her seat. As Daryl leans over to whisper to her again, heat rises in her cheeks and her gaze rests on her own hands. So this was what he was speaking of earlier. "I should bid you good night Daryl. I think I fancy a walk in the garden, if you will excuse me." Looking for her Septa and Redmond, her guard, she rises once more though as she does, she regards Lord Robben as he nods at her, extending her wishes for him as well. "Good evening, My Lord. I hope to see you again before our departure." Bidding the others farewell with a warm smile and quick wave, she makes her way out, Septa and guard in tow.
Daryl takes another sip of wine before nodding at Aemy, smiling with good intent and replying, "You as well, M'lady. Thank you for sharing the evening with us. It truly means a lot." Waiting for her to rise first, he's not long to follow, killing his goblet quickly and looking between the rest gathered, "If you'll excuse me I could use some fresh air." With a casual smile and easy stride he moves to step off towards one of the off shooting hallways of the manor.
That was not her intention at all.. When Aemy realizes Daryl had moved to follow, she abruptly stops, turning to face him, her usual graceful demeanor altered by a slightly indignant look. "I suppose you misunderstood me, Daryl. The answer was no, to your suggestion."
Thoughtful expression still in place, Robben sips at his wine. Nodding a little at Aemy's words, and then at Daryl, before he sees Aemy coming to a stop. Turning to watch the two of them a bit carefully now, he places his goblet on the table. Watching the two of them a bit carefully for the moment.
Apparently having become distracted with a brief conversation with a page who came to find him, Saethwyr manages to bring his attention back to Tiaryn. A sheepish smile is offered to her, and he reaches out to claim his glass of wine and lift it to take a drink of it. The music wasn't lost on him, though the moment for thanking the women for the beauty of it seems to have passed. And so, he's quiet for the time being. Again.
Moving towards the new Lord of Ashwood, Muirenn inclines her head and says quietly "Again you have my sympathies. I will pray to the Seven for you and your family that they will comfort and guide." Smiling she turns and gives her farewells to her friends and acquaintances, commenting "I need to go join my husband at the Inn. I am told that we will be leaving on the morrow."
Daryl seems a bit confused as Aemy stops, and he just offers clarity, "…Suggestion? I was just headed to the balcony for some fresh air. It's gotten quite stuffy in here." At Muirenn's approach, he smiles warmly and replies, "Thank you again…You've made the night quite memorable." His deep green hues shift from one lady to the other, setting on the blonde, "The both of you." Then with a neutral countenance he steps off with a steady, smooth motion, letting out a slight exhale as he goes. Near the hallway entrance he slows as he spots a tempting forsaken and untouched pitcher of wine. He bites his lip, and continues onwards down the hall without it, not looking back.
"Surely not so long," she says to Muirenn, really not wanting to go without her harp for that many days. Tia bids farewell to those leaving, all of them. Appropriately. She smiles as she spies Daryl pass by the wine, but says not a word, instead turning to her husband. "That was lovely music," she says, with a sigh. Her gaze goes to the harp, wistfully. It's right there, and she could play it, she could.
Robben leans back a bit more for a few moments as he watches people start to head off. A smile is offered to Muirenn. "Thank you for the songs, my lady," he offers, with a quiet smile. "I can't speak for everyone else, but they helped me, at least." Draining the rest of his own wine now, he gets to his feet, a bit slowly. "I hope you all will forgive me, but I should get hold of something to drink, something not wine or ale, and get some air myself," he offers. "Thank you all for… for being here." A brief pause as he passes near where Tiaryn and Saethwyr is, noticing the gaze to the harp. "You should see if you could get her some gloves that she can wear while playing, cousin," he remarks, before heading onwards, in the direction of the kitchens now. Perhaps he just needs some time away from the entire feast?