|Safe and Sound|
|Summary:||Roslyn and Justin share a moment, barely escape getting caught by her brother.|
|Related Logs:||Banditry logs.|
|Tower Hall — Stonebridge|
|The entrance to the tower opens into a larger common room for receiving guests. Effort has been made to bring warmth and light to the interior, as well. Rugs have been hung from the stone walls as well as placed on the floor to bring at a welcoming ambiance. There is a large table with several chairs off to the left of the door, a cooking hearth against the back wall, and a wooden staircase that leads up. An antechamber behind the stairs is where the servants live and bed down.|
|Tue Jun 05, 289|
The Tower is quiet, the sudden influx of people seen to and assigned rooms, food, clothes. Most have stayed in bed, seeking sleep that has been illusive for a number of nights, but one solitary figure has a place by the hearth. The fire has been built up per request, a blaze of heat and light despite the hour of the day that Roslyn curls up to in her chair. Her hair is still damp from a bath taken so hot as to flush her skin, clothing a simple grey wool gown that is more comfortable than fashionable. She does not read, her gaze instead catching on the twining flicks of fire.
Only having come here once in his life, briefly and recently, Justin walks into Tordane Tower's hall. He is yet garbed in his hunting leathers with a smattering of dried blood over the front of his jerkin. He is dirty and looks tired but without injuries. He carries his quiver slung over his back, longbow left with his recovered horse outside. Seeing the hall mostly deserted with only a few servants and guards, Justin pauses and starts to step towards one of the men to inquire after Lord Riordan - when he espies Lady Roslyn of all people sitting near to the hearth. With a wary look to the guards, the young Terrick alters his direction to quietly approach her. His voice is kept quite low, "Lady Roslyn?" Justin studies the woman, stopping several strides from her to keep a polite distance. He is filthy, his boots and trousers stained with dried mud and several days beard growth to darken his jaw.
Through the dark fan of lashes, wide, hazel eyes lift to find and mark Justin, a moment's haze clouding them before thoughts are cleared and Roslyn snaps back to the present. "Lord Justin," she murmurs politely, her words making a soft whisper along the walls of the tower hall. "Did you find him?"
A muscle tightens in his jaw ere Justin faintly makes a negative movement of his head. "He went into the creek. I followed until dark but there were many tributaries that joined it. I searched today until zenith." Grimacing, Justin shifts his jaw before he adds quietly, "A better tracker than I might have picked it up again, but I could not."
Roslyn chokes quietly on a sob at the news, her head dropping to bury her face in her fingers. "You did—what you could," is strangled by tears where she says it, murmured between her fingers. For all that, however, it is genuine in its attempt of reassurance.
Justin isn't a man to be moved by women's tears easily. For a breath or so he only stands there, awkward and tired as he watches her. He doesn't even bother to frown. Yet he then steps closer and kneels down upon one knee to tip his head to try and look up at Roslyn's burried face. Justin starts to reach out to take her hands but he hesitates, not knowing Roslyn well enough and half expecting she'll flinch from him. But then very gently he tries to anyway if she'll let him, "We captured at least one of them alive, Lady Roslyn. He will be pressed hard and I /will/ learn the name of the man who escaped us. A bounty will be put upon his head. It is only a matter of time ere we have him." Justin's baritone is kept low and steely. It then softens, "Please do not weep. You are safe, now."
Tears cling to her cheeks, to the brush of lashes framing her gaze, but Roslyn allows the capture of her hands as she raises to look at Justin. It takes her a moment to respond after his words process, though it is only to slide from her chair to press herself into the man, throwing her arms around his neck instead. "It is wrong of me to think, but I want him dead," she admits in a whisper, apology touching her tone.
She takes him by surprise! Justin would move to stand but her unexpected and sudden embrace catches him still on one knee. It initially makes him stiffen - he is filthy with dried sweat and worse! Justin is not used to anyone touching him, least of all wrapping their arms around him. He breaths a little more quickly at the vague startlement before he settles his own arms around her. "No," he replies very low, "It is not wrong to wish it. He, all of them, must be made harsh example of without mercy. There can be no forgiveness for such sins." Not sure how to comfort her, Justin lifts a hand to stroke Roslyn's damp hair, his shoulder hers for as long as she desires it.
To anyone in the hall who is watching, it might be an awkward scene to observe.
"Thank you," Roslyn replies quietly against his shoulder, her face pressed to the curve where his neck meets his shoulder as her arms remain hooked around him. Tension seems to ease where he strokes her hair, body melting against him for a moment as she absorbs his comfort quietly. "I only want to feel like it is all over with, so that I can move on. I had planned to visit the Roost, afterwards. To—speak with your father, and you."
Gods, she smells … wonderful. Womanly as well as from her fragrant bath. Something he much needs himself, stinking mostly of leather and sweat, and perhaps faintly of blood. Justin's tension has eased as he holds Roslyn close, listening to her. He nods and then draws back ever so slightly to try and see her face. His calloused fingers trace back a strand of her damp hair, "I … do not know what will happen between our Houses, Roslyn. There is much ill between our fathers. I do not wish to see you…" Justin stops, that muscle to tick in his jaw before he finishes, "Get your hopes up, and then be hurt. It would take the will of the Seven to make them agree to our betrothal."
He then adds something very low for her ears alone.
Roslyn draws back reluctantly, tracing a study over Justin's features even as he speaks. Her own jaw tightens, stubbornness in it as one arm slides from around his neck to capture his chin. "No, Justin. It will take our will, not the will of the Seven. We must make them agree to the betrothal so that we may have each other." She does not go so far as to kiss him, not as bold as Rosanna, but her lips brush against his ear as she murmurs her reply.
Maybe he is too much like Jaremy in some things, or maybe he isn't. Whatever the case, Justin carefully moves to stand and draw Roslyn up from the floor with him where she should not be. He is younger than she, yet Justin is a fair bit taller as he looks down at Roslyn's face. She might not be bold enough, but he is too bold perhaps. Damn anyone watching, or the fuss they might make. Justin skims his hands up the back of her dress and tangling one of them into Roslyn's hair, he puts his mouth upon hers to kiss her with a surprising hunger. Even if he should not, he's too damned tired to care even if one of Roslyn's brothers happened to walk in, just now.
Surprise takes Roslyn's breath away at the forwardness of that kiss, her lips softening against his for a moment before she moves to draw away quickly. "Justin," slips from her lips, breathless as she lifts her gaze back to him. "We are not—You said yourself, that a betrothal may not happen, and if it did not, this would ruin me."
If no one knew him here, they might mistake him for a rough bandit himself for there is little of Justin that is lordly in his appearance right now. He feels her stiffen and push back from him. Justin lets her and hearing her, he stiffly steps back from Roslyn, removing his hands from her. All too brief a taste of her mouth. He nods, "Forgive me, Lady Roslyn. I forget myself and you are right to be wroth with me. I will remove myself." Justin's face has become unreadable, a wary glance about the hall before he bows to her. Thankfully there are few about at this late hour yet it is far too public a place. Justin briefly meets her eyes once more, then turns to go. He is exhausted and there is yet hours to ride back to the Roost.
"Lord Justin, I am not upset at all, but for what may be said. If we were betrothed—," Roslyn replies, her fingers lifted to her lips in a light press of fingertips against her mouth. "My lord, you do not have to leave. It is more my fault than yours, for getting carried away with my emotions."
"Lord Justin," comes the voice of Riordan from the entryway, his eyes moving between his sister and the Terrick lordling. How long he's been there is anyone's guess. "I did not realize we still had Terricks under our roof." The weariness in the Regent's face is palpable, still, and though he's finally clean shaven for the first time in days, it does more to emphasize the damage that has been done to him by the lack of sleep, the worry and fear… and whatever it was that the Maester gave him to see him through the days with hardly any sleep. A light cough racks his throat, as he moves towards the pair. And, as ever, despite whatever else, Riordan always has a warm smile for his sister, though it's perhaps a bit more muted then usual.
Justin hasn't gotten far before he stops and half turns to look back to Roslyn. The past days have worn on his better judgement and self control, leaving him weary. He only stands there to look at her, Riordan's voice breaking in ere he might speak. Justin turns his head, looking far more like a bandit than a lord in his muddied leathers stained with a thin splatter of dried blood and several days dark beard growth. If there is alarm at being found out for kissing Roslyn, Justin shows no sign of it other than to study Riordan warily. He nods to the other man, "Only long enough for me to return and give report, Lord Regent. I will not linger, Ser."
Too distracted to properly return Riordan's smile, nevertheless a small touch of one pulls at the corners of Roslyn's lips in greeting for her brother. Her gaze slides between the two men, but she says nothing as they converse, wisely holding her tongue for a moment.
"So soon? I would have you sup with me tonight, if you choose to linger a bit long," Riordan says, his words quite, if a little scratchy in his throat. "We should talk." Whether he means the words a threat or a simple invitation is hard to tell, likely due to his weariness and everything else that seems to take precidence in his features and posture. "If you must leave, however, I would have you take my request to your lord father in regards to the prisoners taken, specifically the one you claimed, my lord. I would make an example of him so that this never happens again, and have ideas on that avenue. I realize your father is the one with rights to pits and gallows… but at the least, I could make him talk for you." Now that is what a threat… even if it's more a threat to the prisoner.
If Roslyn's face might be flushed, it's probably only due to recent circumstances, surely. Justin glances back to her to see if there are still tears on her face before he refocuses his attention upon her brother. "Aye, he will be made to talk, you can be certain of that, Lord Regent. I will pass on your request. However, the other man eluded me in the creeks and I lost his trail. A bounty needs be placed upon his head for his capture that we might have them both to press. I will pass on your most reasonable request unto my father." Tempting as it is to stay, clean up and rest, Justin adds quietly, "I don't have to leave at once, though I am eager to see to my own family, Ser."
Step clak. Step clak. Step clak. Garett sure has been making a lot of trips to the Tower recently, so at least no one can tell him he hasn't been getting any decent exercise. Like perhaps others who've been in and out, the amnesiac Knight is looking for a few people in particular. So that's why he's here, even if his leg mildly protests the walking effort he's been making the last few days. Looking about, he sighs a little. "Of course, he's going to be hard to find. Damnit."
They have made marks where they have dried, salty trails down her own cheeks that speak to crying for all that Roslyn has caught herself now. "Of course, my lord. I would suggest you take something to eat for the road before you go, however," she suggests quietly, her gaze catching on Justin's for a moment before she looks to that sound of the cane. Her brow curves upwards slightly, a subtle, soft gesture as she studies the man she sees.
Kamron is looking much, much better than he did the day before. A night's sleep without worry will do that for a guy. He's back in his mourning attire, and his left arm is back in its sling. He's only a few paces behind Garett in entering, having come from the tent-city that is now breaking down outside of Tordane Tower. His lips curl into a faint smile as he spots Justin, his own steps taking him in that direction and up alongside Garett. As he approaches the group, he bows his head to the Naylands, "Lady Roslyn, I'm pleased to see you safe in your family's care once more. Lord Riordan, Ser Garett." His eyes flicker to Justin then, "Lord Justin, I must apologize for directing you away from the reunion yesterday. How was the hunt?"
"I could offer a bounty on the man, but he would need to be turned over to my custody and justice for it to be collected, and that is something your Lord Father would need to, as it is highly likely the man may well be captured on his lands." Riordan says this easily enough, and inclines his head to the rest. He won't press the matter further. As to the invitation, he merely says, "Being so recently parted from my own sister, Lord Justin, I understand. I think it sometime indeed before I might be convinced to let her from my sight again." There's only the briefest of glances between the two, before the obviously weary man continues on in scratchy tones, "Another time, then, we shall dine together. Soon, I hope." And he'll nod his farewell to the man, before turning at the sounds of others entering the hall. "Ser Garett," Riordan offers, and if there's surprise at seeing the supposedly dead knight, it's hard to tell, given just how bad off he looks. Restraining a cough that threatens to wrack him, he then turns to offer greeting to the other newly arrived. "Ser Kamron." And then the Regent's eyes focus on his sister, and his gaze just holds her, studying her face for a quiet moment.
Justin stands quietly listening to what Riordan has to say ere he nods, "Indeed, I will place a bounty on him myself and my Lord father may add to it as he sees fit. I will dine with you soon then, my Lord." He too glances over to Roslyn ere Justin turns his attention to Kamron, "Ser… the wounded man went into the creek. Further on it was joined by many tributaries. I lost the trail and was unable to pick it up again this morning. A better tracker might have." Tired, though slightly more rested than Riordan, Justin scrapes a hand through his soiled hair, "Thank you for having your squire watch my horse, Ser. My maile was in his saddle bag and I would not have cared to loose them both."
"Well, you don't look any worse for wear." Garett says, eyeing Kamron sidelong as he comes up next to him. "Knew it'd get done right. And now I feel like I owe you a drink for proving me wrong." The Westerling doesn't look exactly in great shape. He's lost weight, mostly muscle mass, the towering mass of power he was is about a fourth less bulky than he was. His left leg is splinted and braced, keeping that leg straight and hence needing the use of the cane. His face is most evident, a long nasty scar running from his temple to the top of his neck that goes along the left side of his face. Looking at the Regent, he blanks. Damnit why does he have to forget -everyone-. But oh, so that's his name. "Lord Riordan." he greets with a nod in return.
"Thank you, my lord," Roslyn replies politely to Kamron, a smile offered to the knight as she sweeps a curtsy. She does not look much like a lady at the moment, given the simple wool gown that she wears, dyed in an easily obtained grey and unembellished, but it looks comfortable and well-fit. It is her brother's gaze that reminds her of the remnants of her crying, palms lifted to wipe at her cheeks. "It was a trying ordeal, but I am glad to be back as well."
Kamron reaches out to clap Justin on the shoulder with his good arm, "You did well, Justin. Damned well." He squeezes the other man's shoulder a moment, then lets his hand drop, "And leaving Percy out there was the least I could do. Thanks for bringing -him- back." He chuckles a little at that, looking over to the wounded knight, "I'm much relieved by having the ladies home safely, Ser Garett." A chuckle rises to his lips, curving one corner upward in the start of a crooked grin, "Plus most of a night's sleep and some actual food." And a kiss on the cheek had -nothing- to do with it. Riordan's words about bounties and Stonebridge justice cause him to frown a bit, but he shakes the expression off, bowing his head again to Roslyn, "I'm only sorry that we weren't able to make it to you sooner, Lady Roslyn."
Riordan merely nods his head to Justin, content to remain quiet after giving his greetings. For a moment, he simply listens to the conversations about him, before he says, "If you will excuse me my lords." Offering no explanation, he turns, glancing to Roslyn. "Sister," he simply says, offering another muted but still warm smile, and brushes her hand with his as he passes by, on the way out of the Hall once more.
Justin smiles thinly to Ser Kamron, "He was willing enough not to stay out there alone." He comments dryly for Percy. His gaze flickering to Riordan, Justin adds, "A bounty upon the missing man here may also be wise. If he got hold of a horse he may have come to Stonebridge or be past it by now." Not knowing Garett well, Justin gives a faint nod to the other ere he turns to go. One last glance back to Roslyn and then Justin departs the hall.
Garett chuckles. "At least you were doing something proactive." That's said for the three men in the immediate area, though he nods at Riordan as he makes his exit. "All I got to do was stand around some maps and try to look like I knew what I was doing. When I tried to go back to the inn, I found it ransacked by a group of Charltons. So. That was fun." Giving a parting nod to Justin, it's at that point he focuses on Kamron. "It's good that you showed up. There was something I wanted to discuss with you if you had the time for it."
"My lord," Roslyn replies to Justin when he leaves, dropping into a low curtsy for the departing Terrick. Her attention turns politely back to Kamron, a smile playing at her lips with a slight hint of tension even as she replies warmly, "Do not worry over much, ser. I am certain we shall forgive you for your delay." She glances after her brother as well before adding, "As long as you shall forgive me for taking me leave so soon of you. Being around so many people for so long—. I still find myself exhausted, I am sorry." She curtsies again, before moving to leave.