Page 278: Stone and Flower Words
Stone and Flower Words
Summary: Ladies are flowered, rumors are philosophized, and Dmitry twists metaphors with a pretty smile. Danae also receives a summons.
Date: 24/4/2012
Related Logs: Answered As A Knight, The Scent of Change, The Generous Harpy
Danae Dmitry Tiaryn Garett Justin Jaksyn 
Stone Walk — Tordane Tower
Set at a slight incline, the stone pathway leads up a slight rise northeast out of the town square towards the single tower of House Tordane. Grass grows thick and plush along the side though it is well maintained. Private shops and stables are located up closer to the manor with the family's private stables attached directly to the exterior wall of the small castle.
Mon Apr 23, 289

The light afternoon wind whispers through plush grasses that line the Stone Walk leading up towards the tower. They catch at the ribbons on Danae's dress and ruffle the skirts as she climbs the walk, cheeks flushed from her walk through the marketplace. The maid to her right carries a basket that is filled with wares from the jaunt and a guard dressed in pale and gold livery maintains his pace just behind the lady.

As she mounts the curving walk, surely she must eventually come across a young man: lean, slight, and dark, leaning up against the wall of the castle with an air of casual and blithe insouciance that he may well have been bred to. Ser Dmitry Terrick surveys the pleasant afternoon with a mild, airy idleness, and surveys Danae's approach from beneath a sooty veil of lashes, a faint smile hooking his mouth at its corner. He is dressed in the colors of his House, mostly; the deep purple is tailored close to his skin, the dark jerkin over it a protection of fitted leather. His sartorial elegance is slashed with white, though the trous are dark. Of the knightly talents he learned with the Pipers, it seems he learned to dress himself — or maybe it's just instinct, or vanity, or some combination thereon. Unlike Danae, he is without attendants. Indeed, he seems to be without purpose … at least for the moment.

Unlike Danae, he has no need for them — a man can afford many pleasures that a lady should not reach for in public. Besides, who would carry her basket? The petite blonde lady regards the lounging lord from beneath pale lashes as she climbs to reach his height, her skirts rustling against the stone and mouth settling in an even smile. "Good day, Ser Terrick," she greets, soft voice a touch breathy from her exercise. The appropriate curtsey is given, paired with a delicate incline of her chin.

Dmitry straightens away from the wall against which he leans only as she draws near enough that he might be drawn to her orbit. He sketches a bow. "Lady Danae Westerling, I believe I have the honor of remembering an introduction," he says, blithe and easy with his charm, like a natural grace — or a long-learned habit. "You have found the day full of lively entertainment, I hope?"

"I believe I would have difficultly forgetting it, Ser. You made quite the impression," Danae acknowledges with an impish quirk of her lips, freckles darting with the twitch. Fair curls slide over her shoulder as she tips her head to one side, folding her hands neatly at her waist. "Enough that the local market thought to provide for me. How fares your own or are you awaiting for it bring something of interest?"

"Why," Dmitry says with the soft breath of a laugh buried in his voice, "but it has brought me something of great delight, my lady, in these moments of your company. I shall treasure them." Theatrical, there is a glint of irony in his dark eyes as he lays a hand over his heart. A trifle more sober in his next words, he says, "I am glad to have made an impression. I should hate to be forgotten."

"I did not say the impression was upon me. However, no — you shall not be forgotten," Danae replies, pale eyes twinkling with barely repressed amusement. The slant of her mouth is enough to indicate that /who/ he made that impression upon will not be easy information to come by. "I do not imagine that you would make it easy to do so."

The Westerling Lady and Terrick Knight stand at the top of the walk near the tower conversing. A ladies maid and guard accompany Danae, standing several paces behind.

When Garett has time to be alone, unburdened by his life and his priorities, he tends to be found in a smithy. It's his own little haven away from everything that he has come to pretty much despise about Stonebridge, but there are glimpses of things he likes. Like smithing, it's a hobby and a personal passion. A place where he can get lost in and have no worries. It's where he's been while Desmond is continuing his punishment, the squire across the way doing constant push ups in his armor, a double punishing for wearing it the day after for no reason. Under the old Knight's grizzled gaze while he toys with a peice of metal that will eventually become a set of greaves.

Tia has a maid and a guard with her, as sh generally does. She is strolling with her harp under one arm, while the maid carries a basket. The guard is not actually used as a packmule but rather kept on his guard duty. Tia is humming just under her breath as the light breeze teases at her hair, tugging it out of the restraints that it already hates. She reaches a hand up, and then pauses, glancing at the maid. "I fear this will be a challenge to deal with, Bethy," she says, and the maid only just nods her head silently. Tia pauses as she nears the smithy, now aware she might spy folks she recognizes there every once in a while.

Alert to these nuances, Dmitry studies Danae's features for a considered moment. Hook of his smile slight but lingering, he does not chase the suggestion with more than the slight quirk of one fine, dark eyebrow. Instead, he says lightly, "I do try." The flicker of his dark eyes skips only briefly toward other oncoming people; a careless disregard for the smith's trade, mayhap. "It was an interesting party," he says.

There is a flush of pink that touches Danae's cheeks under Dmitry's dark eyed regard, too soft to be that of previous exertion's touch. She adjust the lay of a curl against her dress, replying mildly, "Then you ought be congratulated upon your success." Although she catches the flicker of his gaze, she does not turn in kind — having seen her brother on her ascent along the walk and chosen to leave him to his task. "So I have become aware. Are you enjoying your time in Stonebridge?"

While Desmond is hard at work with his working out, Garett is plying and shaping metal with his hands, taking previously flattened and heated metal and shaping it into a curvature that resembles a primitive shape of a greave. He doesn't look happy, but then again, when does he ever with anything ever? His expression is one of stony countenance, unreadable, but if one had to guess, mildly annoyed by the result he's currently getting. Holding the peice up, he searches for the number of imperfections that he so far as to hammer out, of which there are many. Another look to the knoll nearby where Desmond trains, making sure he hasn't yet taken a break. But at least there's something to take his mind off things. "Afternoon, Lady Tiaryn." he greets in standard fashion. But hey, at least he said hi first.

Indeed, one might consider that progress, at least with Ser Garett. "Ser Garett, a good afternoon to you as well," Tia says, giving the man a polite curtsey. She slows her pace to give him a smile. "Did you return Lady Briallyn's book to her?" she asks, curious to know if there is any mischief to be heard of. And of course, as she closes in, she does catch sight of Lady Danae and company, just over there. Ah, good. The breeze that is blowing gently is enough, combined with Tia's activities to have her mop of hair struggling now to escape the confines that keep it neat, tidy and proper. But until she can get to some place private, it will have to remain as it is. A little wild, with a few strands escaping to frame her face. "And is Lord Desmond doing well?"

"Oh, certainly. Many are the delights of the hospitality of Stonebridge. Not least of which its fair flowers." Dmitry turns a wide-spread hand in a flourishing gesture to indicate the … landscape, surely. His eyebrows arch over laughing eyes, for all that his mouth is altogether solemn.

The work Garett is doing is stopped, and probably for the better. He having been working with that particular piece and getting nothing in return but frustration no matter how many times it's reheated and reshaped. "The book?" his stoic tone echos, before a flicker of recognition clicks behind his eyes. "Ah. No. -That- book you speak of is in personal safe-keeping, just in case. Besides, there are times when I enjoy seeing her fret, if only for humor. Apparently, her and Desmond have had a interestiong relationship over that book. But, perhaps for my sanity, I have not opened it." The mention of Desmond gets him looking past Tia once more, the back to Lady Flint. "Desmond is…learning his lesson. I think three days of training, running and cleaning in his armor has taught him the lesson to not walk about in his armor trying to hide his face over a lost hat. Give him much to think about. But. How are you today, my Lady?"

"They do bear many lovely colours, those flowers. Pink and Orange and Green and Red…" Danae could be naming actual flowers or livery, it's hard to tell. The Westerling lady follows the motion of his hand towards the 'landscape', sweeping her skirts back in an elegant motion and taking the opportunity to note the new arrivals as she does.

That gets a laugh from Tia, as she admits, "I must admit, I did open it, curiously. It did not cause me to go up in flames or any such thing. I suspect you might be more in danger of laughing too much, but I might be wrong there." She inclines her head to the news of Desmond. "I am doing well, thank you. It is as if there is a weight off my shoulders with the return of my relatives." She is smiling easier at least, and a little more relaxed. "And you, Ser? How are you doing? It seems that you were perhaps not entirely happy with your smithing work today?" She moves a bit so that she can see up to where Danae is. "If you would not mind, I see Lady Danae and I did want to ask her a question? Would you care to accompany me?"

Chuckle low in his throat, Dmitry answers with a mild, "Indeed. As fine and varied as in any field. It is good to see them in the full flower of summer, as it were — without a cake of mud and blood and the like. The stains do no justice to a petal." Sometimes blithe and sparkling wit gets so far ahead of itself it's hard to tell what you're actually talking about, doesn't it.

It is a mixed metaphor with connotations strong enough to sour Danae's good humor. "As you say, Ser," she murmurs softly, brushing her hands against her skirt.

Garett? Laugh? Oh, Tiaryn must be talking crazy right about now. Though, there might be an ever-so-faint smirk on his lips before it vanishes back from whence it came. "Well, we wouldn't want that, now would we, Lady Tiaryn? I have a reputation to upkeep." The Knight's humor is the dry kind, and sarcastic, given the deadpan tone it's always carried with. "Good to hear, good to hear. Myself? I have little to complain over. Besides, yes, this metal. But, perhaps is simply not my day with it, relaxing as it is vexing me." The metal is handed over to a nearby smith to work with, maybe he will have better luck with it. "I won't be able to fight forever, you know. I'll need something to do when I'm too old and broken down to life my weapon. Smithing gives me solace that I perhaps have some use outside of combat. But," he looks off to where his sister stands, causing his lips thin out slightly. "Very well, I would be honored to escourt you."

Having been out on a patrol, a single horseman has broken off to pass into Stonebridge to look around. Justin guides his grey gelding slowly through the streets, his helm removed now that he's in town and set to rest on the top of a bow and quiver secured to one side of his saddle. The young dark haired man looks around as though he doesn't much remember this place, guiding his horse casually until he sees the tower rising ahead.

Tia's eyes dance, as she catches that smirk from Garett. Keep this up and she might discover the man really is a nice fellow. Oh wait - Lucky Briallyn. "Thank you, Ser," she says with a bow of her head. She moves to start towards the other two, pausing as she catches sight of a rider on horse. "Now that looks remarkably like someone I've met not so long ago," she says to Garett as she turns to head over towards that horse and rider. "Lord Terrick?" she calls out, brow furrowing slightly. "Are you looking for someone?"

Dmitry tacks into the shifting breeze of the mood, becoming a trifle more sedate in the wake of the muting he has, uh, caused. He says, "Very fair hospitality, in any case." Key words to catch his ear: how about, Terrick. His head turns, liquid eyes lifting in Tiaryn's direction, and then tracking toward the rider. He lifts a hand, tipping a two-fingered salute up by his temple to Justin. Hey there.

Turning on a heel, Danae shifts to look towards whomever Dmitry is signalling with a polite smile on her lips. "Kin of yours?" She questions rhetorically, the Lady Tiaryn's cry already having forged the relationship. Blue eyes skim over the rider appraisingly, noting the details of his finery.

Justin has stopped his horse because he found someone walking through selling apples. Nice, ripe apples, not dried, shrivaled ones which is about all he's found since returning home. He swings a leg over and hops down to dismount easily, lightly holding his geldings reins while he speaks with the woman. A moment later he's purchased a few of them and turns to tuck all but one into a side pouch on his saddle when Justin hears Tiaryn's voice. He turns his head to look for her. "Lady Tiaryn, isn't it? No, not looking for anyone particular. I wanted to see Stonebridge." And there's some smallish, slender man lifting two fingers to wave or salute him in some way but Justin doesn't know Dmitry so he only nods to the fellow.

Taking off the leather apron that protects his clothing, rolling his sleeves back down and picking his sur-coat off the hook nailed into the building nearby, Garett walks alongside Tiaryn from appropriate distance. "Nonsense, it is a small thing. Besides, you yourself have been one of the few people in Stonebridge who I actually enjoy speaking to." Too bad his voice is just so cold when he says that. Then again, be around him long enough and that's how he speaks to everyone, even the people he likes. Altering course for Justin, his shoulders shrug lightly. "You would know better than I, my Lady. I haven't met that many people as of yet." Being proper, he stays quiet while the two of them speak.

"If he's a Terrick, probably," Dmitry answers with an easy, careless air — so common to many things he says. He surveys the others surcoat and tips his haed in inclination. "Can't say I know them all by sight. Everyone has grown absurdly tall while my back was turned, for one thing."

Tia nods to Garett, noting that coldness in his voice, though she's heard it previously. She looks as Justin nods to someone, and sees it's the fellow with Lady Danae. "Right, why don't you come with us and greet whoever that is appropriately? I think - maybe he was with Lady Anais for the party." She gestures towards the other two, and turns to head that way, totally expecting both Justin and Garett to come along, as they are both well bred gentlemen. Even if Garett likes to pretend otherwise. "Lady Danae, it is a pleasure to meet up with you again. I had a question for you - once I recall what it was," she says as she arrives, mischief in her eyes, lighting up her face.

Justin lifts the apple and after rubbing it against his surcoat lightly, he takes a bite of it. He listens to Tiaryn jabbering on in not quite introductions, his own pale grey eyes sliding to Garette to study that man. No names are given so he offers a polite nod for greeting and starts to walk after Tiaryn. It might be educational, after all. The dappled grey gelding with the dark points and almost snowy white body follows Justin quietly as a good saddle horse might but it is certainly no Knightly charger.

"The danger of travel and distance, I suppose," Danae opines thoughtfully, gaze sliding away from the unknown Terrick and in the direction of her brother. "It can make anyone into a stranger." There is a touch of melancholy in her tone as she speaks, quickly shaken as Tiaryn approaches them to be replaces with a warm smile. "Hello Lady Tiaryn, I shall have an answer so soon as you recall it." There is a twitch of amusent to the curve of her mouth as she catches that glint of amusement. "Greetings my lord, Lord Brother. I believe introductions are at hand," she says, gesturing towards those she names as she speaks. "Ser Dmitry Terrick, Lady Tiaryn Flint and Ser Garret Westerling, my elder brother." A smile is cast towards Justin as she dips in a curtsey. "My Lord, I do not believe I have had the honor."

Oh goody, meeting people, Garett's most favorite thing to do. While the thought of that makes him itch to grab the nearest wine bottle. But, that's changed and he's fighting the urge to drink pretty well. Over a week sober! "Of course, my Lady." he stoically agrees, looking over at Justin, and like the other, he silently nods in greeting. Following after the Lady Flint and arriving to meet up with Dmitry and Danae, he's quiet himself until he's acknowledged. "Sister. Ser Terrick." he replies clinically and cooly to the other two.

The grey stops when Justin stops, looking to Danae as she speaks and makes introductions for him. His gaze follows to each of those she indicates, briefly lingering upon Dmitry with the raising of a dark brow before Danae has gone onto her brother. His attention returns to Danae herself, "I don't believe I have either, as you have not introduced yourself, Lady." Justin, with apple in one hand and horse's reins in his other makes a reasonably good bow to her courtsy, "I am Lord Justin Terrick, Lord Jerold's third son, recently returned from Tully lands." he replies in his baritone before he looks around, "I am pleased to meet each of you."

"An honor and a pleasure." Dmitry's smile is bright in his eyes; from the slight inclination of his head, he may allocate more of the honor to Garrett, and more of the pleasure to Tiaryn. It is a subtle gradation, though. His eyes are bright in their frame of lashes as he glances between the others. "Ah! My lord /cousin/," he says, and sketches an easy bow toward Justin, hands spread wide as he straightens up. "Good day to you and well met after long away!"

Tia glances at Justin, not wanting to steal his thunder, so she will let him introduce himself. Tia has to chuckle as Danae does such a wonderful job of the introductions, except one. "Allow me," she says, briefly. "Lady Danae Westerling, Ser Garett's younger sister," she introduces. Her gaze goes to Dmitry and she gives a polite curtsey. "A pleasure to meet you, Ser Terr - Dmitry. I fear you will have to allow us a slight informality or we will never know which of you two we are refering to. Am I right in my recollection that you were with Lady Anais at the party here not so long ago?"

"Oh." Danae colours slightly at Justin's correction, hiding the shadow of a smile behind her fingers. Tiaryn's much needed addition is met with a thankful smile as the Westerling lady glances towards her, pale eyes warm beneath the blonde fringe of her lashes. "My apologies, my lord. Thankfully we have the Lady Tiaryn present to recall my name in the case of folly…" The pointed humor is mild and directed towards herself in this case. "How find you the Riverlands, even so recently returned?"

"Well met to both of you." Garett replies, voice gruffly neutral. While all the introductions are being had, the older Westerling looks over his shoulder to make sure Desmond is still off doing his workout. Ah, this time he catches him taking a breather and, not knowing how long he had been doing, snaps his fingers to get him to get back to it. The matter of the party being referenced does have him looking a bit grim, perhaps moreso than usual, but he'll be damned if he talks about that and the headache it caused him. For now, he's content to stay quiet and let the other converse as they will.

Justin's grey gelding blows out his nostrels and shakes his head to try and clear away flies. Doing so rattles his bit, which he then mouths somewhat. Ignoring his horse for the moment, Justin listens to Tiaryn introduce Danae and he smiles a little, "Very pleased to meet you and your brother, both. As for the riverlands … things could certainly be better in Terrick's Roost, but we'll put them back to rights."

It is Dmitry that then draws his attention. Justin cocks his head a bit to study Dmitry as though something were amiss or that he can't quite place before he says, "Cousin? Thank you. It has been a good many years. Did she say … Ser Dmitry? May I ask how old you are?"

"So I was! A very /engaging/ party it was, too." Sailing smoothly on past anything about that party that might have been awkward or ungainly, he goes: "—My lady, you may call me whatever you wish; I am delighted to be called on, informally as you could wish." Dmitry grins. Of course he grins. What a brat. It's a good thing he doesn't have dimples. His eyebrows twitch up, as he glances back at Justin. "Aramond's son," he says, with an air of idle prompting. "I'm nineteen. Does that help?"

That grey gelding is regarded with a hesitant look as it shakes its head; Danae takes a step back, clasping her hands tightly. Old fears settled near the surface of her actions, easily caught by those who knew her well. Her smile remains unflinching as she follows the thread of conversation. Its only twitch is that of the corners in amusement. Dmitry's grin. "

Justin nods to Dmitry, "It does, though I'd suggest you try and grow a touch of beard lest someone call you out to prove your manhood in some rude and positively undeniable way. After Jarod's slipup with Rowena, I rather think everyone will be looking hard and gossiping a lot." The last thing the Terrick family needs more of right now. Looking a bit grim, Justin finishes his apple and then feeds the core to his horse who gratefully accepts it.

Tia tilts her head at the flirtatious manner displayed by the charming Dmitry. "Perhaps not quite that informal, Ser Terrick," she says, though she then turns her attention to Danae. "No, indeed, Lady Danae, it is a small thing, and please do not think on it. I am persuaded you did a beautiful introduction for all." She eyes the horse as he seems to be having a bit of a moment, but there is no other reaction in Tia - it's not her horse, and she trusts the knight to manage his own. Though then Tia blinks at Justin's comment, names she's heard, but not really folks she's met. Still - that's only likely to steal rumour time away from Garett and Briallyn, so not a bad thing. "I find there are so many rumours about, that I am not certain any of them are worth considering any more."

Oh, kids will be kids. Garett suddenly feels somewhat old with the things being said and the grumpy old Knight will more or less reamin quiet where he is. Though, this new rumor does put at ease that it's likely whatever things have been said by he and Briallyn will probably be forgotten in lieu of jucier information. And he couldn't be happier about that. On the inside, of course. Quietly, and still saying nothing, the Knight smoothly weaves his way about the group, nonchalantly putting himself between the horse and his sister, taking a cue off her hand wringing. As he tends to be, he's content to be a silent onlooker until something is said othewise.

This gelding couldn't be a much more docile horse, at least at the moment. Justin's grey muches happily on the apple, swishing his tail and looking half sleepy in the sun. He's a very fiercesome, threatening beastie, isn't he?

Dmitry rubs his fingertips thoughtfully along his smooth chin, and across his thin-lipped mouth, partly obscuring the hook of his smile. His eyes lit with an edged humor, he cants his head. "Cousin," he says, "if you accuse me of a lady's beauty, I ought to be sure to grow a beard. Especially with such fine flowers of femininity so near at hand." His eyebrows arch high over the glint in his eyes. Which do have ridiculously long eyelashes, it is true. Unquelled by his demotion — or promotion — back to Ser Terrick, he tips his glance back at Tiaryn. "If idle gossip is ever worth considering," he says. His eyes gleam, with the bright humor of a man who, alas, thinks he is clever. "It must do to dig up every bit of it for comparison and cross-reference, naturally."

Justin sighs, "If only it were gossip. I certainly wish it were only so." So he nods to Dmitry, "I mean you no insult but I would save you the embarassment of being so challenged. I expect father would have a woman put into the stocks if found impersonating a Knight, especially if she were a Terrick. Besides, a beard or stubble would make you look older, more mature." Justin strokes his grey's neck before he adds, "Nonetheless, I'm pleased to have a cousin about."

Terribly threatening. Hell beast. Danae's expression and poise do little to betray her, but for that tight clasp of hands. Her eyes widen slightly as Garret moves to step between her and the horse, a soft, unbidden breath escaping her lips. "Rumors will only twist onto themselves, Ser Dmitry…they have a peculiar way of stretching themselves into oblivion if left uncontested," she replies lightly, smiling at the knight. "They are hard to unhear, though."

Garett says nothing or makes no move to note Danae's apprehension about the horse. Perhaps he just wanted to stand by his sister, who knows. Stony faced as always, he looks those present over. "Rumors and supposition are the result of people with having not enough to do with themselves." he utters icily. "And most times, any truth, if there is truth to them, is no one's buisness but those it concerns with." the Knight states in reference to what Danae says. It's the first thing he's said in some time, the man apparently only speaking when he really feels the need to. That said, he goes back to his normal trend of silence. And keeping him bodily between her and horrendous hell beasts.

Tia is not so young as all that, though perhaps she is still young in comparison to Garett's hard won bitterness. "Likely, Ser Garett, but they are very difficult to unhear," she agrees soberly. "Lady Danae, I have recalled what I wished to ask you. Do you think we might invite my cousin Liliana to our social outing? And perhaps others who might be at Terrick's Roost, as well? Or ought it to be just those of us currently staying in Stonebridge?" Well, it's a question at any rate, though Tia does take a step back. As charmin as these men are, each in their own fashion, perhaps the trio is overpowering? Tia is at any rate stepping back, as a prelude to extricating herself from the conversation. "And I should go see if Lady Cordelya is doing any better today."

"I must certainly disagree, Ser Garrett. It is wise to know what is spoken of. Else there can be no defense to its twists and turns." The widening of Dmitry's dark eyes is ingenuous, even as they flicker from Danae toward Garrett. The edge of irony only reflects in the crook of his mobile mouth. "Thank you for the introduction; it was an honor to make your acquaintance, Lady Flint. I will look forward to its renewal."

Justin's grey eyes might narrow a touch at Garett's comments since the whole Jarod thing certainly is Terrick business. He frowns a little and draws a slow breath but says nothing as Dmitry speaks instead. Justin adjusts his horse's bridle to tighten up the headstall slightly so the gelding can't rattle his bit around quite so much against his teeth. "Good day to you, Lady Tiaryn."

"While wise to hear, any credence muct be granted with the greatest of hesitance, Ser Dmitry," Danae contests softly, shooting her brother a mild smile as he states his opinion. Her hands slowly untwist from their tight clasp, she nods towards Tiaryn with a smile. "Of course, Lady Tiaryn. I should be delighted to make their acquaintance, please send my regards to the Lady Cordelya."

Near the top of the Stone Walk, by the base of the Tordane Tower itself, a group has gathered in conversation. The Lords Dmitry and Justin Terrick, who has a grey gelding in hand, stand by the Lady Danae Westerling and Ser Garett Westerling.

Plink. Plink, plink. PLINK. Septa Darna's head is too hard for a proper *thud*, but the delight the young woman takes in bouncing the miniaturized, cheaply copied prayer books is not lessened by the lack of sound effect. The palm-sized texts bounce off of the worthy woman's formidable coif, which no doubt negates any sort of damage to her skull that the compact tomes would cause. Then again, they don't appear to be anything more than might be available to a commoner, the covering of the book appears to be little more than stiffened paper. In that moment, the Septa has been busying herself lecturing poor Adelia, ever quiescent beneath the woman's dour stare and droning voice.

Staring at the tiny books, now lying scattered on the muddied cobbles at her feet, the Septa turns her eyes towards the Lady Briallyn with a stormy expression. "What? Where could I /possibly/ keep that many?" She bites her full lower lip to smother a grin, peering innocently with dark green eyes into the Septa's abyssal glower. Wiggling elegant fingers at the Septa, she darts around the stone corner of a building lining the street, hands over her mouth to stifle laughter. That is, before her eyes find the small, loose gathering of people.

Normally to go unnoticed but for a few familiar faces. Hands drop, and a wicked smile curls the corners of Briallyn's mouth as she reaches down to lift the hem of her dress with the intent to- "Where /are/ you going, my Lady?" The bark causes her shoulders to slump, and she casts a glance over her shoulder. "It's your favorite knight, Septa," the young woman intones, waving vaguely in the groups direction. And without a sense of inquiring permission, Briallyn flashes her a prim smile before sidling, hips swaying, in their direction.

"I simply have no time for them and even less patcience for it. So considering me a stick in the mud if you like." Garett states simply. "I already have my own affairs to contend, I don't have to inclination or desire to think about or get involved in anyone else's. What they do is not my buisness." There doesn't seem to be any bending on that particular topic for him. And it's not like he's trying to insult anyone, he just knows where his priorities are and they definately don't involve him getting embroiled with anyone else's troubles. Looking down at Danae, he only nods at her. "My sister can put things much more succintly than I ever could dream to."

One thing Foot soldiers get good at over time is running. For the new guard transferred in from Hag's Mire, it would seem he has hit his stride, so to speak, in this manner rather early. Moving wiht a rapid, ground eating lope almost reminiscent of a running animal, indeed, he slips at one point trying to dodge a slower old man in his path, catches himself on his knuckes and rights himself once mroe without breaking stride, he's headed straight for the loose collection of people, chain maille adding al almost musical note to his running.

The young Terrick Lord nods to what Garret says, agreeing to that much, "It is wise to keep to one's own business, though sometimes what blows on the wind comes for you whether you watch for it or not." Justin keeps his baritone pitched low in volume, calm and quiet. While he may not have noticed the coy young woman trying to slink away from her Septa and then sauntering towards them, Justin does turn his head at the sound of a man in maile who's running towards them.

"As you like." Dmitry's smile lingers in a slight hook. He turns out a hand in a finger-wiggled gesture, comme-ci comme-ca. "I make no statement, of course, as to what to /believe/."

"It is well you don't, it is certain to begin an arguement in any group." Alas. Opinions. Danae offers a small smile in response to her brother's downward look before her attention is drawn by the clamor of the running fellow in maile.

The young Lady Haigh is forced to halt, ever so briefly, or else collide with the near jog of the man dressed in.. armor? She cocks her head at the sight, but glances away. His destination appears much as the same as her own, but when Briallyn arrives, she does so without winding herself. Or running in armor, for that matter. "Everyone appears to be having such a good time," Briallyn blusters with amusement, regardless of unfamiliar faces, smoothing wrinkles away from the dark green and bronze silk of her skirts with a few quick brushes of her fingers. Her Septa and the lady's maid are not far behind. Unfortunately.

Coming to a screeching halt in front of the group, Jaksyn drops to a knee, chest heaving under his armor, the Guardsman keeps his eyes averted. "I beg forgive my intrusion My lords and ladies, I'm sent with a message for lady Danae Westerling" Burdened with a thick accent (Think heavy Welsh) it may be somewhat hard to understand him.

"True, and that can't be helped, no matter how hard I might try." Garett notes. "Watching for it is one thing, if only to steer far clear of it. But true, sister, I don't start such things for the sake of doing so." He might've been inclined to say a bit more, as pleasantly as he's capable of doing, which isn't much, but the matter of both Briallyn's appearence and the sudden message for Danae has him sligtly torn. Perhaps, thinking it best to tackle the greater of two issues, he breaks away to intercept the Haigh. "You really can't help yourself, that you really need to make such an enterance every time I see, can I?" he says dryly. "I see your entourage is with you, as per usual."

Justin is wearing armour himself, but then he was on patrol for much of the distance to Stonebridge before he decided to come the rest of the way. He has no helm upon his head for it is secured to his saddle with bow and quiver. Holding his horses's reins, he studies the man who kneels and speaks to declare a message to Danae, recognizing the livery. Turning, he says low to Dmirty, "I came to see Stonebridge, so I should get to that and then head back in the morning. Is there anything of note you would reccomend?"

"I am Lady Westerling," Danae replies softly after a moment, stepping out from behind her brother — safely out of reach of the horse. If nothing else, she understood her name amidst the bog of his accent. It leaves him to tackle Briallyn as he will, she directs her attention elsewhere. She nods towards the kneeling guardsman, gesturing lightly that he should rise with an upward flit of her fingers. "Rise and I shall hear it."

"Only the ladies of Stonebridge are worth mentioning, Cousin," Dmitry says. Of course he says this. There are ladies of Stonebridge within earshot. Also it's safe because his player has no idea what to sight-see. His smile slight, he tips his head, and glances back with a curious arch of his eyebrows toward the newcomers. What is this thing that is not his business!

Surprise raises both of her arched mahogany brows as Garett shifts to intercept her before she fully reaches the loosely gathered group. Not enough so that she cannot hear the low ebb of conversation, but Briallyn makes no effort to step around him. A hand falls to splay fingers on her hips, and she peers up at him. "Of course, they are. I was not aware that walking was making an elaborate entrance, my Lord," she replies crisply, a sultry tone that does not match the infectious smile curling the corners of her mouth upward. "Are you so afraid that someone might see me? Or worse, see /you/ with me?" Her mouth delicately falls open in mock surprise, dark green eyes widening, but the knight would understand the exaggeration for the purposes of humor, even if no one else might.

Justin smiles to Dmitry, "I didn't come to see the ladies of Stonebridge - no offense to the ladies." He keeps his voice quite low, then turns to step alongside his horse and check the gelding's cinch in preparation to remount.

Standing quietly, Jaksyn keeps his eyes averted, looking to the ground, he speaks softly. "Ser Gedeon Rivers requests audience upon the stone Bridge M'lady."

All expression drains from Danae's features with a flutter of blonde lashes as she looks upon the Nayland guardsman, even as blue eyes sharpen inquisitively. "Very well," she breaths softly. In a few words she dismisses her maid, gesturing to her guard to attend her. "Brother, good Terrick Sers, you'll have to pardon me. I have business that I need attend." Smiling sweetly at the men, she sinks into a pleasant curtsey to remove herself from the party; then nods at Jaksyn. Lead on.

"Always with the assumptions. That'll get you into trouble." Garett, possbily amused. "Would it blunt you so that, heavens forbid, that I might want to see you first to myself? And that maybe I just might have wanted to introduced my my betrothed personally?" he points out simply, though, leave it to Bri to get something of a reaction out of him; that being a very slight smirk that tugs at the edges of his mouth. "Afraid? No. Embarassed? Possibly." he pokes fun at her again. All humor, well whatever humor is there on his face, vanishes completely when he catches the reaction on Danae's face. "Sister." he says, now looking directly at her. "Is everything all right?"

Once he has checked the cinch, Justin steps up into the gelding's saddle and swings his leg over with ease of a man who rides a great deal. The grey lifts his head but does not start off, only shifting his hooves to keep his balance as weight is shifted. Justin's hands are very light upon the reins and he turns the horse instead with light preasure of his leg and easing back of his foot near to the flank he wants to swing outward. "Cousin, Sers, Ladies…" with that, Justin gets his horse walking forward and gently extracts himself from the group without haste, moving to head on about his own business.

Despite the fact that he's been running in 50 lbs of armor, the boy nods, offering a half bow really as he turns and leads the lady back towards the Stone Bridge.

Danae pauses mid-stride to offer her brother a short, calm smile. "I am certain it shall be." Gracefully she inclines her head towards Garett, then follows the guard off back towards the Bridge.

If there is more rp following, I do not have it. Just add in.