|Singing in the Rain|
|Summary:||Saethwyr follows his ears to find Tiaryn and Cordelya, Jac joins in for some beautiful music, and good humour and introductions ensue.|
|Related Logs:||None really.|
|Grass and horses! Lots of knights!|
|May 18, 289|
So, here they are, all the way to the Tourney field for the big celebratory tournament and what happens? Rain. Hah - the gods have a sense of humour, albeit sick. Tia, given that there's no excitement, and the weather isn't very conducive to practicing archery, has taken herself to a nice rock, with a dry blanket atop it, and is actually sitting in the rain. She's got a cloak to cover her, more or less, and a couple of guards are currently working to put a tarp up overhead, giving her some protection from the rain. She has her harp in hand though, and is just a bit away from the camp fire, still warm and dry enough to be able to play a jaunty tune.
Cordelya is along side of Tia, huddled under a cloak and a hood, trying to stay out of the rain. At least she's up and around, having enough strength and energy to even come out to the tournament! She's not loving the rain, though, her stick thin limbs wrapped tight around her body, between breasts and belly, both areas rather more… Noticable than they ever were on Corrie before. She's not exactly shivering, but it's close. "…The gods have cursed this tournament, it might seem… To give weather like this!"
Tia glances over at Corrie, a little bit concerned. She's not so skinny, and not so … unusually noticeable by far. But she's also not shivering as yet, the music still playing, even as she chuckles softly. "Or they have a wicked sense of humour. I wouldn't put it past them, you know," she says after a moment. The song dances lightly, as if laughing along with her. "But - did you eat yet? Cause you look like you're starting to get cold."
The Young Lady keeps her cloak hugged tight around her frame, trying NOT to shiver, really not wanting to worry anyone, but she still has so little meat on her bones it's a bit difficult! "…Yes, yes, I ate, I'm fine… I had plenty of food. A warm breakfast.. I promise." She has been eating FAR, far more than she was. It means her face doesn't look sickly starved, at least, which is progress. She then smiles just a bit more towards Tia…"And why so a wicked sense of humor? The gods just trying to stop us all from fighting any more?"
"Well certainly, but only in the fight that's for entertainment and honour, not the life or death ones," Tia replies dryly. Hey, something around here has to be dry. So, the tourney? Postponed due to rain. Alas. Tia and Corrie are seated on blanket covered rocks under a now solidly tied up tarp of something or other that is keeping most of the rain off them. As the day passes, campfires and campsites have obviously come up away from the fighting fields, and this is one of those, the Flint campsite. Or at least, the Flint campsite is behind the two ladies, as they sit and chat companionably. Tia has her lap harp in hand, and the sound of the music can be heard at least some bit away down the makeshift path between the camps that has developed.
With all the knights and horses around, what's one more set of them added to the mix? The rain is borderline unpleasant, but Saethwyr doesn't seem to mind it too much. Lifting his left hand, the man draws up the hood of his cloak as he leaves the area where the horses are being kept, having tended to his own black beast. The ground squelches beneath his feet with each step, and he makes his way towards the rough shelter that's been created by that tied up tarp. Perhaps it is the music of the harp which drew him closer, or maybe it was simply the fire. It's difficult to say, but either way — the man approaches, his stride graceful.
A slight smirk dances across Corrie's thin features, shaking her head, "…I am simply not certain that celebrating the victory of a war with more fighting is… well… Necessarily appropriate. The gods do seem to agree, even if the rest of the world loves a good tourney." Ever the peace lover, even if she's married to Anders now, Corrie's crannogwoman ideals have never normalized at least. She sighs, leaning a bit closer to Tia for warmth, one of her hands just lazily rubbing against her stomach. She arches a brow as another comes closer. "…Company…"
Tia takes one hand off the harp, the music stopping, to throw her cloak partly over Corrie, offering her good cousin a bit more warmth instinctively. It pulls the cloak off her head, so her mostly blonde curls can be seen, hair even curlier with being partly wet. "Here, you need this more than I do," she says. "Though - " her words stop as Corrie mentions the company, and that has Tia turning to look at whoever is wild enough to brave the rain. Other than Tia and Corrie that is. She pauses briefly, glancing to see the guards have stuck around, miserable as the weather is. The maids? Well, they're by the fire making sure all is well when Tia and Corrie return. Or something like that. "Good day, Ser," she greets lightly. "Are you looking for someone or a particular campsite?"
A slight wrinkle comes to Corrie's nose, a touch guilty, as Tia tosses more of her cloak over Corrie's shoulders as well. "Oh, Tia, it's…It's not that cold…" But she happily leans a bit closer to to her good-cousin. She does relax a bit more, looking almost sisterly as she's leaning against the woman beneath the cloak like two peas in a pod. "It's not so bad, though I suppose Anders would lose his head at us being out here in the rain.." She murmurs, but then falls quiet as the man approaches. She arches a quiet brow, but goes a bit shy, letting Tia speak for them.
If the man realises that he's been spotted, he gives no sign of it on his approach to the ladies. The rain is what it is — a force of nature, and one that cannot be changed, and so he continues his way through it. The music stops, and he looks towards the musician with a measure of curiosity, taking a moment to admire the golden curls thus revealed by the movement of the cloak. Stepping into the shelter, he offers a bow to the ladies. "Good day, Ladies," he says respectfully. Then he lifts his left hand to unfasten the cloak he wears, lifting it from his shoulders before settling the warm garment around the shoulders of the two peas in a pod (if they allow it). "I was following my ears to the source of the music, my Lady, and I found you and your companions, it seems," Saethwyr says, a smile touching at the corners of his lips.
Tia tilts her head a bit, her gaze on the man's face for a moment, before she realizes she's staring, and ducks her head to check on the harp. Thus the cloak actually takes her a bit by surprise, as generous a gesture as it is. "That is quite kind of you, Ser," she says, letting her smile show on her face. "Thank you. You have found my attempts at harp playing, at the least. I am Tiaryn Flint, and this is my goodcousin, Cordelya." The guards she doesn't introduce, but they are there, and obviously guards on duty, rain or not. "While I suppose we ought to properly find someone to introduce us, perhaps we might just introduce ourselves?" she suggests. Her fingers find the harp once more, trilling over the strings without even thinking about it.
Cordelya arches a brow quietly, looking between the two, especially as she also realizes that Tia is staring. Curious. "…I think we can manage to introduce ourselves… I'm Cordelya Flint… Lord Anders' wife…" The Young Lady of the house, though she doesn't look like much nobles. In fact, beneath her damp cloak, her brown hair stringy and damp as well, limbs stick thin and cheeks a touch hollow, she looks like a drown rat more than a noble woman. The rain isn't doing anyone favours. Still, she bows her head elegantly and respectfully to him..
Saethwyr's dark gaze lowers to the harp for a moment, then lifts back to Tiaryn's face, to watch her. He inclines his head to her, a smile touching at the corners of his lips. "It seemed you two fair ladies could use it more than I," he says thoughtfully. "You are most welcome, my Lady. Your playing is quite lovely," he compliments, giving a nod to her. "It is a pleasure to meet you both," he adds, looking from Tia to Cordelya and back again. "Well, lacking another to serve the sake of propriety by making introductions, I'm sure we can make do on our own," he says lightly, a hint of amusement showing in his eyes. "I am Saethwyr Charlton," he offers by way of introducing himself, giving another bow to the ladies. If he's chilled without the warmth of his cloak, he doesn't show it.
Charlton? Charlton? Really? Oh that just figures. Tiaryn's expression shows her surprise for a moment, and then it actually goes a little bit disappointed, and then neutral, all in the space of a heartbeat. "A pleasure to meet you, Lord Charlton," she says. "Or do you prefer Ser?" She takes a breath, and then she says, "I suppose I'm not going out on a limb to suggest you must know Lord Aleister then?" She does manage to keep her voice light, though she hugs her harp a bit. And even so, her gaze returns to the Knight in front of them, a swift glance to see if he is suffering any misfortune due to loaning them his cloak so chivalrously. She glances over at Corrie next, and then she says, "We could relocate nearer the fire? And then perhaps we would all be able to dry out a bit?"
Cordelya must be shy, as she doesn't really speak other than having introduced herself. She's far, far more curious to watch Tiaryn and how she interacts with this new one. She smirks to herself, though doesn't cut in yet… Not until Tia mentions the fire. Finally, she does seem to decide that's a good idea. She gingerly gets up, ensuring Tia's cloak lingers around her body and Corrie doesn't pull it with her as she stands. She's quite tall, for how thin and delicate she looks. "The fire would be lovely, then perhaps you could play for the handsome man, here."
The man tilts his head slightly to one side at the mark of surprise then disappointment which comes to Tiaryn's features. That doesn't really bode very well, now does it? "I actually prefer Ser, if you don't mind, Lady Tiaryn," he says, inclining his head to her. He chuckles softly, then lifts one of his shoulders in a faint shrug. "I know of him, of course, but I have not spent much time in his company to really know him," he says, a thoughtful note lurking in his voice. "I could fetch a blanket for you, Ladies, if you have a need?" he offers, raising an eyebrow slightly, a bit of concern in his voice. It simply wouldn't do if the ladies suffered any misfortune either. Looking to Cordelya at her compliment, a bit of colour creeps up into his cheeks, and he half bows to her. "My Lady is too kind," he says softly, almost shyly. He looks to Tiaryn, watching her a moment. "It would be an honour to be able to hear your music again, my Lady," he says respectfully.
Tia's gaze goes to Corrie swiftly, her own cheeks going a touch pink. She nods to her good cousin, as Corrie gets up - did she leave the handsome man's cloak or does Corrie have that one? Hrmm? Tia gets to her feet as well, standing a whole five foot six, so she gets to look up at both her companions. "Why don't you come with us, Ser Charlton? There's warmth, tea, and perhaps even wine to be had, and even somewhat more comfortable seating for Lady Cordelya." She pauses, and can't help but glance sidelong at the man. "And I even promise to play some more music," she adds, a hint of teasing in her voice as she takes a step towards the fire.
Cordelya might be a bit chilly, but she's handling it well, and she's totally left the man's cloak in Tia's tender care, probably a ploy to get the pair to talk to each other a bit more. She's just smiling, hugging her own cloak around her before she begins leading the direction towards the fire. "No, no… no blanket is needed. It is not so cold. The fire will do us just fine. Unless my good-cousin is quite cold. Perhaps you should be certain she stays warm." Yes. Corrie just said that. She grins a moment then stalks ahead towards the fireside.
"A very kind offer, Lady Tiaryn, and it will be an honour to accompany you," Saethwyr says, inclining his head towards her, a smile coming to the corners of his lips. He chuckles softly at her teasing, his dark eyes showing a sparkle, and he gives a nod. "I will hold you to that promise, Lady," he says. Lifting his left hand, he softly adjusts the fall of his cloak where it rests upon Tiaryn's shoulders to ensure that she's properly covered by it, letting her keep it for the time being. Then he looks to Cordelya and gives a nod to her. "As you wish, my Lady. But if you change your mind, do be sure to say so," he says. Looking back to Tiaryn, he raises an eyebrow slightly. "You are warm enough as well, my Lady?" he asks softly, a thread of concern to his voice. It's raining, and he standing beneath a makeshift shelter made from a tied up tarp near the Flint camp, with Cordelya and Tiaryn and a group of guards to watch over them.
Within the Charlton pavilion, Aleister had been summoned away while the Lady Cherise was left to the entertainments of her handmaidens. Darra, a brown haired girl, had been sent out, made to retrieve of one of their men at arms. Cherise stood within the warmth of the pavilion, wine poured and finger foods ever ready to be plucked by her hand. Within the tent it was warm and protected against the chill of summer rain and winds.
Tia's shoulders go back, her head coming up sharply as she glares at the back of Corrie's head. She so didn't just say - sigh. She takes a breath and then turns to find Saethwyr adjusting the cloak for her. She pauses for a moment, and then offers a half smile. "Thank you, Ser. I am warm enough at the moment, especially with two cloaks. You are not too cold?" She does have her own, as well as his, after all. And she has the harp in hand. They are standing right by a makeshift path through the camps, but moving over to the light and warmth of the fire, such as it is. "But should I find need of additional warmth, I will let you know." There is a hint of mischief in her eyes, though as she turns to start walking behind Corrie, she manages a frown to herself, then schools her expression to neutrality.
Call it stupid, but Jac Caddock is out in the rain. He's out in the rain, and he's singing at the top of his lungs. He's lucky he's got himself a fine pair of pipes and a good sense of how to use them, because some might confuse him for a drunk otherwise. His baritone carries out through the sopping-wet landscape of the tournament grounds. "While goin' the road to sweet Athy, hurroo, hurroo … While goin' the road to sweet Athy, hurroo, hurroo! While goin' the road to sweet Athy… A stick in me hand and a drop in me eye, a doleful damsel I heard cry… 'Jon-nee, I hardly knew ye!" The common knight is guiding along his mare, who is as wet and dirty as he, along to where the rest of the horses has been tied. The old girl is harnessed up outside the pavillion, and her knight gives his soaked head a dog-like shake. "Jon-nee! I hardly knew ye!"
Cordelya continues the way towards the fire, but she's exhausted. wrapped up in her cloak and with the earlier meal still heavy on her stomach, the long trip and rain is starting to catch up to her. She stops along side of the fire, arching a brow as they pass Jac and his singing… "Tia, you may have to play a bit louder before other entertainments drive us all deaf…" Corrie mutters to the woman behind her, but then stifles a little yawn. Yes. She probably will be retiring from the little group rather soon.
Saethwyr tilts his head slightly to one side, and then he inclines his head to her. "You are most welcome, my Lady," he says softly, a smile coming to the corners of his lips. "I am not too cold, thank you," he adds, his dark gaze holding upon her. And even if he was too cold, would he admit it? Unlikely, given that he's a Knight. "I will see to such needs as I am able," he comments, a hint of amusement to both his voice and his eyes. He walks with her, heading towards the fire and its surrounding heat. His gaze turns towards the source of the singing, watching for a moment, but then his attention comes back to the ladies he's accompanying.
Darra had dashed outside, using a hand to shield away the threat of rain attempting to muss up her hair and features. She approached Jac, as Cherise had not specified anyone in particular, and relayed that he was to be summoned to the Charlton's pavilion. Within the leather walled structure the Lady casually sipped to her wine, while her handmaidens within sat in quiet.
Tia pauses as Jac goes by, chuckling softly. "Ser Caddock, if you are going to sing so sweetly, you might at least find a warm spot for it," she calls to the man with the horse and the dirt. Yes, she does recognize him, though that has her pause a moment in her steps. "And do you know Lord Charlton here?" she asks, cause why not? Though she then shrugs slightly as Darra comes to find the singer. "Tell Lady Cherise she's welcome to join us," is her only comment there. As they get to the fire, the handmaidens there bustling about promptly have a spot ready for Corrie and hot water for tea. Tia cannot help but smile back at Saethwyr, much as she'd rather not. That's not a good thing, it somewhat worries her. She however does take his word for the not being cold thing, and snuggles briefly into the two cloaks she's got. By the time she's settled down on her own seat with a hot mulled wine pressed into her hand, she seems to have caught hold of herself. "Ser Charlton?" she asks, giving Saethwyr a nice polite smile. "What can we offer you?" A pause as she considers, and then she says, "There is mulled wine, tea, and ale, I do believe."
Well, it might not be very lady like, but as one of the big, cloth chairs that are easy to transport is brought over for Corrie, the tall, thin woman sinks down into it and curls her legs up beneath her. While everyone is talking, chattering, there is music, drink and song, Corrie can hardly keep her eyes open. The fire is warm and her cloak is warmer. So she curls up there, planning on shutting her eyes for just a few moments… but once they're closed, they'll stay that way. Someone might have to carry the Young Lady to a properly comfortable bed sometime soon, but right now she seems quite content half buried in her cloak in front of a fire.
Caddock looks up as the ladies and their escort come to his attention, and he bows his head respectfully. When he realizes one of the ladies is the fair Lady Tiaryn Flint, the knight smiles wide. "Miladies, milord," he greets with a genuine flourish. "Lovely weather, is it not?" He twists his face up toward the skies, blinking several times through the assault of droplets. "I mean, I cannot for the weight of my bones understand why the joust was postponed." As if his mare understands a word her knight says, she gives a mild snort and shivers rain off her coat with a flutter of muscles. He gives Tiaryn a winning smile that perhaps in his youthful days was quite a heart-sinker. "You are most gracious, Milady." It is then that the man turns his eyes down to the dear Darra, and the knight gives her a bob of his head. "Milady summons, I do answer." And he gestures the girl to get herself inside before she looks as wet as he. His gaze moves to the pair of ladies and their dutiful lord before he bows again to affirm that he will let Cherise know of the possible company and steps into the Charlton pavilion.
Darra leads the drenched knight into the pavilion, herself moving straight for a cloth to cleanse away the excess rain droplets gathered along her face and arms. Cherise turns around upon their entry, an arm crossed along her abdomen with herself seemingly untouched by the gloomy weather beyond her leather borders. "Ser." She greets, holding a small smile. A look over his demeanor has her cheeks swelling a little. "Enjoying the rain I take it?" While most would have sought to seek shelter, this one was soaked from head to toe.
Saethwyr raises an eyebrow slightly as he looks to Tiaryn, listening as she offers up his introduction, of a sorts, to the singing knight. His attention shifts to the knight being summoned, and he offers a nod of greeting, giving a chuckle. "Well, this is an improvement over the earlier thunder and rain," he comments. Yet then his attention returns to Tiaryn, continuing to walk with her. Once to the fireside, he waits for the ladies to be settled before considering any of the remaining seats for himself. Yet he gets distracted from such a choice by the array of drinks offered by Tiaryn. "A mulled wine, if it pleases you, my Lady," he says, a smile coming to the corners of his lips. His gaze turns to Cordelya, and he steps over to where she's curled up in the chair, adjusting her cloak to ensure that she'll keep warm enough with the chill brought by the rain.
Tia, as she notices Corrie falling asleep, promptly takes Saethwyr's cloak as it is the top one and brings it over to the knight. "Here, Ser. Perhaps you might want this?" she says softly. Her own is actually quite warm. She nods to one of the handmaidens, who quickly brings over the mulled wine in a solid mug, waiting for Saethwyr to accept it, before she curtseys and returns to her work. Tia watches, before turning her gaze back to the knight, watching as he busies himself with a kindness that seems quite genuine. "Now then, I did promise to play, yes? Is there anything you would prefer to hear?" she asks, as she returns to settle in her chair, taking a cloth and starting by wiping down her harp, taking good care of it.
Saethwyr raises an eyebrow slightly as he looks to Tiaryn in response to his cloak being offered back to him. "Thank you, my Lady," he says softly, inclining his head to her. And though he accepts it from her, he doesn't don it himself. Alas, no. What he does is to settle it atop of Cordelya in order to guard her warmth to her instead, the gesture a genuine one. Only once this task has been seen to does he give a small nod to the handmaiden who offers him the wine, reaching out to accept it from her. He lifts the mug, to take a drink of the wine. He gives a soft chuckle, looking again to Tiaryn, and then he gives a small nod. "Aye, that you did. Though you know your skills with your harp better than what a humble Knight such as myself would guess. I leave it safely to your choice as to what to play, my Lady," he says sincerely. Only then does he move towards and choose a seat, picking one that is closer to Tiaryn than Cordelya, but between the pair of them.
Whatever has exchanged between the Lady Charlton and Ser Jac is kept behind closed tent flap, though when the man returns into the rain, his expression is solemn. He looks over his shoulder once the flap has resettled, and he considers the raining as it continues to fall. "They're taking out their swords again, hurroo, hurroo," he half-sings, half-whispers to himself, the song now a touch lamented. "They're taking out their swords again, but they'll never take our sons again…" His dark gaze falls back on Lady Tiaryn and her lordly companion. "No, they'll never take our sons again. Jon-nee, I swear it…" And then he steps toward the pair. He stops just beyond, bowing his head a bit. "Your offer still on the table, Lady Tiaryn? I would appreciate a nip of wine now."
Bethy comes over to settle in a seat near enough to watch and keep up with the propriety requirements. Tia thinks for a moment, as she offers a smile to Saethwyr, for his compliment. She tilts her head, before she selects a song, picking one by a famous bard perhaps, and as she plays the music, she sings along with it, "Have you ever been on the road between holds, As the sun falls away, and the darkness turns cold And the moon will not rise 'til the night has grown old And the only things left are the stars?" She might or might not continue that singing, but at least the one verse gets included. Though as there's a louder voice, she pauses, inclining her head. "Aye, Ser Caddock, do come on and find a seat. Bethy will certainly find you a mug of mulled wine. But you might have to sing for it. If you can keep up with my harp that is."
The Charlton Knight holds to silence for himself as he listens to the music that Tiaryn makes with both harp and voice. A smile comes to his features, and he finds both her playing and her singing to be pleasing to the ear. He takes a drink from the mug of wine, remaining settled where he sits. His dark gaze turns towards the man who approaches, and he offers a nod of greeting. "Good day," he offers, lending a spoken greeting as well. Yet for the time being, Saethwyr seems content to hold mostly quiet, perhaps awaiting the music to continue.
Jac looks to Bethy, giving the girl a warm smile that is full of genuine kindness. "Make it a large one, girl. My bones are finally too tired to be this cold." And then he moves to take a seat with the lady and lord. He looks over toward Tiaryn with a short bark of laughter, and he shakes his head. "Lady Tiaryn, if you let it slip that I sing for my supper, I will have the boys making me sing for my britches every morning." He looks over to Saethwyr then, bowing his head. "We have gone unintroduced, Milord. I am Ser Jac Caddock of Stone Hedge, sworn to the Hollyholt. You are lucky to share such wonderful company in the Lady here. We have known each other for a long time." A long time being, of course, two days… but as previously said, everyone is Jac's oldest friend.
Tia chuckles, though she makes a startled sound as she realizes her own bad manners. "My pardon, gentle Sers. I would have introduced you, but Ser Caddock got called away, and then I completely forgot. However, I can say that Lord Charlton here and I have known each other for - oh, nigh as long as you and I have, Ser Caddock." She seems to have caught the spirit of the thing, if nothing further. "And with the rain delaying things, are you both intending to join in the jousting?" she asks. A moment, and then Bethy is off to get the requested mug of mulled wine. She hasn't far to go, since it's right by the fire, and so it takes very little time at all for Jac to have his drink. As Bethy works, Tia grins. "Then I shall return to my own song," she says, her fingers trilling up the harp stings, and then down. She makes a face at the little instrument, though it's not its fault it's not quite got the power she'd like. After a few moments of an intro, she starts singing again, "Those born as the heir, those who rule up above With a kingdom forever held fast by their love With all they can do, it will ne'er be enough To reach the impossible stars."
Saethwyr chuckles softly, and he raises an eyebrow slightly. "Well, no one said that we would tell, after all. We could always keep it secret. Or at least, attempt to," he comments, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. Looking to Jac, he inclines his head to the other man. "It would seem we have, at that. I am Saethwyr Charlton, and a pleasure to meet you," he offers, a smile returning to his features. He's a polite and respectful sort. "Lady Tiaryn has proven to be quite delightful company, to be sure," he says, his dark gaze stealing over to her. He takes another drink of his wine, considering the question that had been asked, and he lifts one of his shoulders in a hint of a shrug. "I had not yet decided if I would take part in the joust or not. It seems the delay has given me a little more time to decide," he comments, a thoughtful note to his voice. Though when she starts to sing, he falls quiet, to be able to listen and enjoy once again.
The common knight takes the mug from the girl when she has it ready for him, and he bows his head gently to her. He takes a modest pull from it, sighing as it settles down into his gut and thus his bones. He looks up toward the Charlton, grinning with a nod of his head. "You'll have to forgive me, Milord… I am still, after three years, meeting all those to whom I swear." He of course speaking of being sworn to the Charlton house itself. Then he also falls silent as the woman sings, not daring to take the spotlight from her as he enjoys the wine and sinks further into his taken seat.
Tia's singing might not be a match for the songbird, but her harp playing may well be. And her singing - it's still better than average. "Those born for the earth, who do work by their hands, They sweat and exert their will o'er the land. When the labour is done, their fatigue does demand that they rest while the moon courts the stars," she sings, glancing up as folks start to warm up near the fire. Bethy retakes her seat, humming under her breath, as Tia happens to glance over to Saethwyr with the last line of that verse, moving along into the next, as she can, "Those born on the sea, with its roll and its swell Know the faces and names of those patterns so well, and each night on the ocean's a story to tell but the only observers are stars." Her fingers dance over the harp strings, as she takes a moment to play without words. Though she has to laugh slightly as she realizes she's the only one singing. "Come now, Ser Caddock, Ser Charlton, you are welcome to join in. Or perhaps you would prefer this one?" The tune her fingers play seems to change lightly, dancing a merry way from the pub to the wharf. "What can you do with a drunken sailor?" she asks, singing the question verse along to the end, and then stopping expectantly.
Saethwyr offers a smile to Jac, and he inclines a nod to the man. "No need for forgiveness, to be sure. I am still figuring out and meeting all those who have sworn to the House," he says, his tone holding a touch of amusement to it. The comment is one that is made quietly, so as to not interrupt the singing at all, should the two happen to overlap at all. His dark gaze turns to the lady, and he tilts his head a little to one side. "You have a lovely voice, Lady Tiaryn," he says softly, a thoughtful note to his voice. Then he lifts his mug of mulled wine, taking a drink of it. Then at the next song she chooses, he gives a light laugh, his dark eyes showing a sparkle to them. "Ah, my Lady… that one, I know, but I fear you may not appreciate my singing as much as I appreciate yours," he comments in a teasing tone, winking at her.
Caddock has become comfortable in the lull of Tiaryn's voice, though he does look up at the invitation. There is the smallest hint of a grin appearing at his lips before he shakes his head a bit. "Early in the morning?" He provides in rhythm with the tempo. "Why, put him in the long boat 'til he's sober." And he gives the side of his nose a small flick before he settles back with his wine mug.
Tia ducks her head at Saethwyr's compliment, her smile visible, obviously pleased by it, though she doesn't comment at that point waiting until Jac also adds in such a comment, before she takes her opportunity to say, "You are both too kind, Sers." She does give Jac a nod of his own for his comment, even if Saethwyr did beat him to it. And of course, her change of moods with the change in song seems to atleast bring words from one of the two men. Bethy waits until an appropriate moment and tosses in, "Put him in the guardroom till he's sober!" Then she covers her mouth, looking surprised she said anything. Tia laughs and uses that verse for the next roun with ease. And Tia's gaze goes to Saeth with a hint of a teasing challenge in them.
Raising an eyebrow slightly, the dark-eyed man looks over to Caddock, and he chuckles softly. Another drink of his wine is taken, savoured, and he seems to be considering… something. Hard to tell just what, but it seems something. And he gives a light laugh at Bethy's offering, giving a nod to her in clear approval. He's not above letting a handmaiden join in some fun, it would seem. "Put him in the bed with the captain's daughter," comes the offering from Saethwyr, offered in the appropriate rhythm and tune for one who had claimed to have a poor voice. Meet a challenge? Of course he will!
The common knight casts a grin toward Saethwyr, before he sobers and nods his head gently. "There is no way I can compete with Lord Saethwyr's voice, Milady," he says dutifully to the Flint woman. "I shall now retire to my tent in shame, that I have been outdone. Songbird I am, no more." Though the knight is grinning to show that he is indeed full of jest even as he pulls himself up to his feet. "I owe you a song for my wine, Lady Tiaryn… I will make it up to you." He looks to the handmaiden, giving her a bow of his head. "Mistress Bethy, always a pleasure to see you. Lord Saethwyr, Lady Tiaryn." He bows deep at his waist before he prepares to make his leave to his own tent.
Tia has to laugh, inclining her head to Saethwyr as it seems he has won the day. "I shall look forward to hearing that song, Ser Cadd - Jac. Be safe and sleep well." At this point she might as well be a little less formal. Bethy arches a brow, but she can't quite get the glare since she's blushing pink at Saeth's compliment. Tia then gives Bethy a glance. "That was indeed well done, Bethy. Very nice." And then Tia gets to her feet to settle the harp away, as it is getting late. She looks to find one of the guards, calling him over, and asking him to find Lord Anders to put his wife to bed. Since poor Corrie needs a more comfortable spot to sleep surely. Then she finds her own mulled wine, taking a thirsty drink. "And well done to you as well, m'Lord Charlton," she acknowledges, with an easy grace. "though I have often wondered who to feel more sorry for, with this song. The poor captain's daughter seems to get the worst of it."
The Charlton Knight gives a chuckle, a bit of colour creeping to his cheeks despite the words being a jest. "Ah, your voice is at least as fair as mine," he jests in turn, his dark eyes showing amusement in them and a grin to his features. "Be well, Ser," he offers. Then his attention comes back to Tiaryn, watching her as she puts the harp away. "It was the least I could offer, my Lady, and a pleasure to be able to do so," Saethwyr says, giving a nod to her. He chuckles softly, then lifts a shoulder in a bit of a shrug. "Well, I suppose it would depend on if the Captain's daughter was fancy on the sailor in question or not. If not, then 'twould be a far worse fate than if she were. Though if I recall rightly, there is a verse where the chap gets his belly shaved with a rusty razor," he muses, quirking a smile.
"True enough, that, though with as drunk as he is, do you think he would feel it?" Tia asks. With Jac on his way, he's out of her mind, as her attention comes back to the Charlton knight she's just met. "Perhaps next time, we can coax an entire song out of you, M'lord," she says lightly. She comes to stand near the knight, finishing off her wine, and enjoying the lovely warmth it provides. Bethy moves to get her another mug, but Tiaryn looks first to Saethwyr. "Might I offer you another glass?" she asks politely. "There is surely enough for one more."
Saethwyr chuckles lightly, and then he shakes his head. "I would think he'd not be up to feeling much of anything, with being that drunk. At least, not until he woke the next morning to find what all had been done to him," he comments, his dark eyes showing a sparkle to them. Raising an eyebrow slightly, he inclines his head towards her. "This is possible, my Lady. Only time will tell if it will be or not," he says softly, his eyes holding their sparkle. He takes another drink of his wine, and then he tilts his head to one side. "Mmm… well, if there's only enough for one more, then perhaps it can be shared between the two of us? Part for you and part for myself?" he offers in turn, to be fair.
Ah, so she'll have to try to see? Interesting. Tia is charmed desite wishing not to be. "Of a certainty," she says, passing her mug back over to Bethy, who also collects the one tha Saethwyr is using once he's done so she can refill. With that out of the way, she inclines her head. While Bethy trots off, Tia takes a moment to meet Saethwyr's gaze, and then she says, "So, you did say you've not spent a lot of time with Lord Aleister. Were you off somewhere other than Hollyholt?" she asks, looking a bit curious.