Page 068: Not So Gentle Reminder
Not So Gentle Reminder
Summary: Jarod informs Gedeon that Anton is back. Lucienne reminds Rowan to write to Igara.
Date: 21/September/288
Related Logs: Back In Town Scandal In The Making
Gedeon Jarod Rowan Lucienne 
Entrance Hall
A hall. People come and go.
21 September 288

The afternoon stretches on as unexpected guests (well, one in particular) come and go, and it's the knight sworn to said guest that appears in the hall next. He's damp from a recent washing or a recent swim, in casual clothes with his sword at his hip. If word hasn't quite made it to Gedeon yet that Lord Anton has returned, he at least seems to have noticed that something got the servants launched into a flurry of gossip. As he steps into the hall, he glances about for someone of a slightly higher station to whom he might inquire as to what the heck.

Jarod is dressed for duty himself, though that only includes a leather jerkin over his standard well-spun green tunic and the sash at his swordbelt in Terrick colors. He's presently coming back into the entry hall from outside the castle. He's on a different trajectory than Gedeon, but when he spots the other Rivers knight he turns his step. "Ged, hullo. Been looking for you, come to it."

Lucienne also looks a little dewy as she descends the stairs, in a different dress than she was wearing having ascended the same staircase not long ago. She pauses as a glance across the room brings her gaze to rest upon Jarod coming back in the other way, but ultimately continues on her way; her way over, in fact. It's still her errant handmaiden attending her, though Hattie sticks rather more close than is usual.

There's a minor cacophony in the kitchen, the outraged shrieking of Cook, the giggling of scullery maids, and clang of metal hurled against stone. "Rowan NAYLAND you horrible little swamp rat!" Cook can be heard to shout. "Stay OUT of my kitchen! OUT! And your little dog, too! Don't think I don't know it's you's been stealing the salt!" And around the corner come skidding the squire in question, accompanied by his (not so little) dog. Working in mischievous tandem, no doubt, they've made off with a still-steaming meat pie and a long rope of summer sausages. The one on two legs is laughing breathlessly, ducking instinctively as something else hits the wall in his wake, and the one on four legs is grinning and panting. The lad breaks off a bit of sausage and tosses it to his faithful bitch, the huge brindle hound snapping the meat from the hair. And strolling into the hall they go — only to come to an abrupt halt. Rowan looks at Gedeon. And Jarod. And Gedeon. And — oh, look, Lucienne! He clears his throat and places one hand over the other, swimming his thumbs like tiny fins. Awkward turtle. "Uhm." He holds up his string of purloined meat. "Sausage? Anyone?"

"The future of the Kingsguard, lords and ladies," Gedeon murmurs dryly as Rowan and his furry accomplice come fleeing out of the kitchen. He looks over at Jarod, brows lifting. "Were you? I think I may have been looking for you as well. Has something happened?" And then he notices Lucienne descending with her ever-present Hattie even more present than is normal, and his eyes widen a little. "Something has happened. Has somebody been hurt?"

Jarod shakes his head. "Nothing like that. You've not heard yet? Your master's back in the Roost." He seems on point of elaborating, but the others in the hall distract him from it. Lucienne is spotted, and flashed a quick, boyish grin. But it's Rowan and company's entry that *really* gets his attention. He chokes, snorting, and finally just dissolves into laughter. Big, braying chuckles. He'll need a minute.

"Someone's reputation has," murmurs Lucienne, mostly to herself. Clearly the lady is not in the best of moods! Jarod's grin earns him a thinly pressed smile in return, but it's Rowan's appearance in that loud fashion that steals Lu's attention properly. She raises an eyebrow at him, and rubs her hands together in front of her tummy, greeting the lad in an ominous voice: "Squire Rowan."

Rowan smirks at Gedeon, biting off a hunk of sausage. "Sod me, is it your day to be funny again, already? I'd quite forgotten." He chews lustily, cheeks pooched out with meat as Rebekkah (the bitch) sits and wriggles her docked tail, salivating. See what a good dog she is? Plz to have sausage nao. The squire swallows and beams at Jarod, then blinks at Gedeon. "Oh! You didn't know? Seven, it's all they can talk about down in the scullery, the girls are all — " and the lad's right on the verge of making a lewd gesture, something involving breasts (possibly nipples) when Lucienne abruptly reminds him of her presence. He wheels around and finishes in a lame falsetto, " — all… uhm… discussing what to serve for dinner? Important company. And all." He glances down at his canine friend. "Quick. Do something cute," he mutters.

"Oh," Gedeon murmurs, brows lifting and tone lightening for Jarod's news. And then, as hattie's closeness is observed through this news lens, "Ohhh." Which is about all he can say to Jarod just at the moment, as the man dissolves into squire-dog-and-suasages-induced guffaws. And then there are Rowan's invisible-boobie gestures, cut off not quite abruptly enough. Lifting a hand to ruffle it idly through his pale hair, Gedeon glances over at Lucienne, smiling wryly. "Being a parent must sometimes be tiresome for you, my lady," he muses.

Jarod takes a sausage, still chuckling, looking over at Lucienne as he chomps on it. "Just a harmless bit of fun, I'm sure, Luci. No need to get all…you look like our lord father when you frown like that. Has anyone ever mentioned that? It's eerie, really." More chomping.

Lucienne is not laughing. She is not even smirking. In fact, she is crossing her arms and frowning. Scowling, one might even stretch it to. The lady clears her throat, lifting her chin and raising her voice to be heard over all the crowing going on. "I have been trying to pin you down for… over a week now, Rowan. Where on all this fair earth do you disappear to all the time? It's not important. What is important," she continues, leveling the squire with her disapproving look, "Is that the fair Lady Igara is still waiting most patiently for your correspondence." Something about the shift of her brown eyes to Gedeon causes the slightest of breaks in her frown - only for Jarod to reignite it.

"Rubbish, the fair Lady Luci loves me. I make her laugh," Rowan says to Gedeon with an indignant sniff. The the fair lady's scowling really sinks in, and the squire eyes her cautiously. "Except for right now, apparently. I'm not sensing a great deal of love just this second." Soon he's enlightened as to why he's in the doghouse, as it were, and his expression mingles surprise, guilt, and a touch of irritation. "What? She wants me to write her back? What for?" He continues, pleading his case, "I don't do anything all day long but practice and polish and mend and tote and care for horses and hounds. We're not courting — we're a done deal. And she can't possibly be lonely. There's so much femaleness in the Mire that even the alligators have ti — lashes. Very, very long eyelashes. It's most unsettling."

Gedeon scratches thoughtfully at his jaw. "The Lady Igara does think most highly of you, Rowan," he points out gently, "and perhaps in the Mire, just as the crocodiles have their… long lashes, the women have rather sharp teeth. Perhaps she wishes for a more forthright and genuine correspondence, a breath of fresh air from her betrothed." He blinks thoughtfully at Rowan before glancing down to offer the slobbering Rebekkah his hand.

"Rowan's been busy. Preparing for the wedding tournament. It's more of that knight stuff, Luci. It's very involved." Jarod supplies an explanation for Rowan's busy-ness very quickly. "Aye. Polishing. There's lots of that to do. It never ends, really." He stuffs the remainder of his sausage in his mouth, scarfing it. The chewing keeps him from talking anymore for the moment, at least.

Ah, Gedeon, whom Lucienne favors with a smile. "Yes, you have the right of it," she says, bobbing her head into a nod at the knight before resuming her scolding of his squire - a little more good-naturedly now. "So write to her about how you're too busy to write. You can't just recieve a letter and not respond, it's not polite. Surely you know that." Little Luci'll just ignore her half-brother for the moment, on account of his unhelpfulness.

Rebekkah licks Gedeon's hand and bumps her broad head up into it, demanding scritches. Rowan gives him a long, dry look. "Trust me, it's Igara my kinswomen should fear — NOT the other way around." He nods in earnest agreement with Jarod, looking vindicated. "SO much polishing. You've no idea." He sighs, however, as Lucienne disdains Jarod's excellent good sense. "She was writing back to me — I didn't mean to start a chain reaction. Where does it all end?" Another sigh. "Fine. I'll just… hie me to the reading room and get that… big whatchamacallit Josse was showing me. With all the different words in that mean the same thing. If I'm going to pen regular correspondence about polishing for a year, I'll need to learn a few dozen new words for 'shiny'."

"Well, actually," Gedeon points out as his fingers rub against Rebekkah's ear, "I believe I know exactly how much time Rowan spends training and polishing. And I do think there is a sliver of spare time left over. For letter writing and such." H smiles sweetly at his squire before glancing over at Lucienne. His smile softens a little for the Lady's approving regard. At least one of the men in the room has her fondness.

Jarod snorts as Lucienne ignores him, exchanging a wounded 'I'm being helpful!' look with Gedeon and Rowan. Though sense the general tide seems to be turning toward letter-writing, he shrugs and adds, "Can't hurt to send her a missive, I suppose. Women are strange about that kind of thing."

"If you didn't want to engage her correspondence, then why send a letter in the first place?" Lucienne looks thoroughly confused at Rowan. "If you no longer wish to write her, you should at least tell her." Tsk, tsk, says her tone. Her lovely lady smile returns as Jarod comes round to her cause, and considering the matter now closed, she turns more properly to Gedeon. "The good lady Igara would also like to know when her dear lord Rowan will be back in attendance at Oldstones so that she might plan for a visit either here or there?" Sweet voice is sugary sweet!

Rebekkah makes whiny-groans of doggie bliss and beats the stones with her right hind leg as she's ear scritched. Rowan, looking vaguely perturbed at her hound's fluid allegiances, mutters, "Slut," at the dog. Jarod — inexplicably — is flipped the bird. "I wrote her when — " he begins to explain, looking a bit put out now. "Never mind. I'm going to go find that big word book now." He takes another big, sulky bite of sausage and trudges toward the stair.

"Oh, don't be put out," Gedeon chuckles as he rubs at the melty-dog's ear. "Your hands were busy and mine was free. A second-best scratch is still a scratch, isn't it?" Rebekkah gets a final pat on the head and then the brindle girl is allowed to pad off after her master so Gedeon can turn his attentions to Lucienne. He sighs softly for the question. "The answer as to when my squire and I will be leaving for Oldstones depends greatly on several factors of which I've little control. At present, I am waiting to hear Lord Mallister's response to Lord Jacsen's letter in regards to, well, my letters. I expect we will stay at least until then, unless I press too much upon your generous hospitality, my lady? I know it has been quite a while since I came to be a guest at the Roost."

"What did I do?" Jarod asks in a mutter. Addressing the question to Gedeon, since he seems to have lost Rowan and Lucienne's general sympathy for the moment. Though he calls quickly to the departing squire, "Uh, Rowan, wait a minute. I wanted to ask you about polishing something for me, actually. My armor's in dire need of it. Young Veris has his talents, but it's a thing he's decidedly lacking in. I'm getting rusty. Sorry thing, really. If you don't mind loaning him out to me for a few hours later, Ged?"

Lucienne twists another confused look after Rowan: what a puzzling creature! "Enjoy your afternoon, Row! — Is he cross with me for pointing out that Iggie's waiting?" She directs her question to the boys both, but it's to Gedeon again that she smiles, head shaking. "Not at all, Ser Gedeon. On the contrary - it's been lovely to have you here, and I'd be most glad for you to stay as long as you like. I'll let Igara know, and maybe she'll plan her visit to Rowan here. Then we could have tea, too." Clearly a most buoying thought, given the turn in her expression.

Rowan sticks out his tongue at Gedeon — a tongue all covered with masticated meat. Lovely. Rebekkah leans adoringly against Gedeon's leg for a moment, then hops up and follows the squire — and the sausage. To Jarod, the Nayland lad says, "Come along if you want, then. You can brief me while I research new words for 'tedious.'" He slows a bit to allow his former knight to catch up, adding, "Don't worry about Lance — he'll catch on. Give me an hour or two with him, I can show him just how you like it done." He pops more sausage into his mouth and chews, trotting up the stairs.

"I don't think he's really cross about the letters," Gedeon says to Lucienne with a gentle smile. "He's cross that he's betrothed when he has no wish to be, and writing will remember him that. But I do not think you were remiss in reminding him of his obligation to the young Lady Frey." his smile grows a little for her kind words and he offers a nod. "Thank you, my lady. You're very generous." He looks over at Jarod, a brow arching as Rowan gets requested. "I don't think that should be a problem," he replies, though his tone is, perhaps, a shade less than delighted. And then, there is a meat tongue waggling at him. Gedeon's nose wrinkles. "Rowan," he murmurs, "Eew."

"Err…Veris and I will find our own way to get along, thanks," Jarod says, though he does jog quite eagerly after Rowan. "Tedious? That's a depressing descriptor. I bet we can find something more fun than that. In literary terms, of course. See you later, Ged. Luci." And off he goes.

"Poor Iggie's been waiting a fearsome long time for her lord's correspondence," Lucienne replies with a hint of irritation on her dear friend's behalf. "At least he's betrothed, and given time to do as he pleases in the interim. Some of us would be well pleased to have dear Row's troubles. Ah… sorry, Gedeon, I shouldn't put that on you. I expect it might also still be some time before Lord Jason sends his reply, unfortunately." As she waves her brother off, her features tend fond for just a moment and she remarks, "I think they might miss being knight and squire?"

"She won't have to wait much longer now," Gedeon assures, smiling over at Lucienne. "It's no bother, my lady. Sometimes I think the young Lord Rowan does not fully grasp his life's good fortune. But he is young and untested, so naturally, knows everything." As for said young Nayland and Jarod Rivers, Gedeon chuckles softly. "Perhaps. At the very least, it seems that whatever falling out the two of them had has been well and truly put to bed."

"We're all guilty of that at some point, I think," replies Lucienne, regarding the ignorance of good fortune. "Things were a little awkward there for a time, weren't they? It was a little odd, really. Still, I suppose… Jarod did have a few… lady troubles." She looks and sounds distinctly like she shouldn't be sharing that, but it doesn't seem to stop her. "That are sorted now. And things seem better for it."

"Ah, but don't all we poor men suffer those now and again," Gedeon agrees with a soft sigh. "But I am pleased to hear Ser jarod's are done with. Certainly, he seems to be overall in better spirits, these days."

Lucienne smiles a little wryly at Gedeon for his soft sigh. "You know how dramatic Jarod gets," she says, shaking her head. "He dwells on these sorts of things, it always takes him so long to get his head straight. But I think this girl, whoever she is, she's good for him so far?"

"If nothing else, she makes him cheerful, which seems quite good for us," Gedeon muses with a soft chuckle. "I suppose only time can tell anything more than that. And what of you, my lady? I hope you are not also finding yourself with… troubles?"

"Aye," agrees the lady regarding her dear brother's cheery disposition, letting go of a note of laughter herself. "Oh, me?" Perhaps this is the reason her chuckle was so limited, for Lucienne ducks her head as she replies, pink blooming in her cheeks. "I'm sure you'll hear it soon enough," she mumbles, "But I expect I've a serve coming from my lord father this evening. Your Lord Ser and I fell victim to a lapse in vigilance on my Hattie's part, this morning."

Gedeon blinks and his brows lift. "Oh dear," he muses, studying Lucienne's lowered gaze and pinkening cheeks. "Well," his lips twitch, "I hope, at least, it was worth the scolding."

Lucienne lifts a hand to her lips to cover a scandalised gasp - her head remains bowed. "Gedeon!" That's a clear scold, that is, and she shakes her head. Not far away, the now overly-vigilant Hattie shifts uncomfortably.

"My pardon, lady. Forgive me," Gedeon murmurs, ducking his own head. "That was inexcusable."

Lucienne doesn't seem to know what to say for a long moment, her blush only deepening. She looks up, finally, lifting just her eyes to Gedeon, abashed and sounding rather concerned. "Is my good reputation honestly that easily sullied, Ged?"

"I was only teasing," Gedeon demures, "I know both you and my lord well enough to realize your reputation is in no danger. I am sorry, lady."

"I hope so," murmurs Lucienne in return, still rather worried-sounding. "I… should go see that poor Cookie hasn't been too far put out by your squire, I suppose. By your leave, Ser?"
Anais has arrived.

"Of course, my lady," gedeon says, offering Lucienne a small bow. "I did not mean to keep you."
Anais has left.

Lucienne curtsies in reply, something of her smile returning. "I do hope you enjoy the rest of the afternoon, Gedeon. I'm sure I'll see you again soon." And off she starts, indeed toward the kitchen, likely to receive a serve from the cook there too.