| Stroll at the Tourney |
| Summary: | Lady Roslyn meets Lord Justin for a morning walk at the Twins. |
| Date: | 21/May/2012 |
| Related Logs: | Tourney logs, anything to do with Nayland visit to the Roost. |
| Players: |
  |
| TP Room - Manicured grounds of the Twins. |
|---|
| A nice meandering path through the grounds of the Twins. |
| May 21st, 289 |
It is morning and early enough that the very last of the mist yet lingers ere the summer sun will burn it off. It promises to be a milder, less humid day than yesterday and the last puddles of standing water are for the most part now gone. Justin has been out since the sun first started up to go and check on his injured horse. Then to pass the time while he waits to see if Lady Roslyn will indeed seek him out for that walk, or should leave him wondering, Justin has taken up a waster to practice sword drills. He is dressed in an off white tunic and dark grey trousers with black leather boots and arm guards. Instead of surcoat, a black doublet is tossed over the back of the practice pell.
Whether or not he has any ambition to try his luck at the melee, he is for the moment focused on handling the practice blade with reasonable proficiency, using both hands so that one might leverage the pommel and whip the length of the long blade about deftly with faster strokes than he might swing his arms, grey eyes intent on a foe that isn't there. He doesn't bother to make contact against the wood of the pell currently, stepping past it and working out stiffness of body from his fall the day before.
<FS3> Justin rolls Blades: Good Success.
The Lady Roslyn Nayland does indeed come seeking out the younger Lord Terrick, seeming mostly recovered from her bout of illness though her nose still has some redness to it and she is prone to sniffling. She has no lingering fever, however, and hazel eyes seem mostly bright and alert where they catch on the practicing squire. She does not call out, instead moving forward to watch his practice. Clad in a simple wool gown herself, the bright yellow does little for her complexion even if it does make her curls seem all the darker.
Breath up a bit, Justin's focused on what he's doing, movements rapid and well practiced though he's far from mastering the blade yet. He works an advance on the left, leading with that leg to limber up a sore knee, then switches as he does a counterstroke, then back to high guard, striking down vertical followed up by a short edge cut pass to the right, and a back drawn long edge cut to the left. A short krump and reverse to squinter … and so forth through the warmup exercise. When he finishes up at a right ochs, Justin stops and turns to walk back to his former position. That's when he sees that Roslyn has joined him.
He wipes his brow and sets the waster to lean against the pell, "Good morning, Lady Roslyn. I wasn't expecting to see you for a little while yet." Justin reaches over for his doublet since he's not appropriately dressed for a lady's company.
"I cannot say that I am sorry to have caught you off your guard, my lord," Roslyn replies carefully, for all that she offers a polite smile to Justin. Her gaze flicks from the nobleman to the practice dummy, considering before she glances back. "You seem to be well skilled, to my eye."
Justin shrugs his doublet on, plain black suede brushed soft as velvet but unadorned save for the brass clasps. He's not wearing gameson nor jerkin, or any other armour since he didn't have anyone to practice against at the moment. Only a pair of leather gloves he strips off now in place of gauntless he would otherwise wear, "I'm all right. No where as good as Ser Hardwicke with the blade but he has years of fighting experience on me, my lady." Justin smiles a little, tucking the gloves under his belt, "He taught me most of what I know about fighting, aside from Ser Haffrey."
When his garments are better settled, Justin picks up the waster, "Let me put this back into the pavillion and I'll join you for that walk."
"But certainly well enough for a knight?" Roslyn half-questions, her brows drawing slightly upwards with plain curiosity that writes itself in her expression. Then he moves to return the equipment, and she nods a simple agreement, politely.
He is only gone a moment, making certain that valuable gear is secured lest some boy run off with it. What boy wouldn't dare if he's worth half his salt? Justin returns without the gloves also, his gaze flicking to Roslyn at her simple question, "Maybe. If Ser Haffrey had lived, or even regained consciousness, probably. But he did not after the Ironborn cut him down." Justin loosely hooks his thumbs into his belt and looks off over the green of the Frey's land here, the twin towers and the hint of mist lingering, "We'd spoken of it."
Roslyn sketches a nod in a gesture towards a particular path across the Frey land, shifting to start walking thataway. A guard and a maid follow as a matter of course, though they linger far enough behind to give some illusion of privacy. She comments, sympathetically, "I am sorry, my lord. It must have been rather painful, his death."
Justin gives a slow nod, turning to walk with her and keeping his voice down, "He wanted to see how I fared against the Ironborn. Put a little polish on my finish and send me back to my father so he could be proud of me. Guess it didn't go over as we'd hoped." He walks quietly a space before he adds, "Aye, Lady Roslyn. I thought him a good man. Many hard losses in addition to him." Justin glances aside to her, "Did you loose family or good friends?" She hasn't been wearing the color of mourning as he does so likely he assumes she did not.
"Not to the Ironborn, Lord Justin. My lord brother, Ryker—," Roslyn starts with a faint frown, her gaze dropping briefly to her hands folded into her skirts before she lifts it again to smile up at the man. "My family has been luckier than most, I must say." She continues to study him where she adds, "Not so with the Terricks, I must hazard to say. You have been through much more."
"To illness or … " No, he won't ask if her brother might have been poisoned, "was it something else? I heard of it but without any detail, in the south." Justin has switched his hands to clasp them lightly behind his back, thinking perhaps it would be too forward of him to offer Roslyn his arm when he hadn't been granted permission to court her, nor betrothed as yet. So he only walks beside her, "I don't know what my family did to anger the Seven, but whatever it might have been, I hope we can make it right. Could use a little of their favour in the coming year, or … something."
"The pessimistic may call it poison; the optimistic simple illness. I have heard no proof for either case." Her tone is careful, reserved, for all that Roslyn speaks on her brother's death. That polite courtesy does not slip. She does add, "May the Stranger care for his soul." Walking silently only for a moment, she orders such thoughts she may have before she offers, "If only we could trade and barter in the Seven's favor, but no one knows how such will land. We can only do what we can to better our lives and hope the Seven approve."
"Indeed," Justin agrees to her well wishing for her brother's soul. It may do for answer to the rest of it as well, "Certainly if we can't do for ourselves, there's no reason for the Seven to favour us anyway." Walking along quietly a space, Justin asks, "So you like parties, and dancing I think you said. Do you play or sing, Lady Roslyn?"
"I play the lute, if it pleases you, my lord," Roslyn offers politely. What would she do if it didn't? Who knows, it is just what you say. She even offers a playful smile as the conversation steers from death and destruction. "And yourself, Lord Justin? How do you feel about parties and music?"
"I'm very fond of music, my Lady. Though I haven't yet learned to play anything, and the only songs I know to sing are mostly unfit for a lady's hearing." Justin grins, "Things more suitable to public houses." He shrugs as they walk, "Haven't been to many parties. As you have seen for yourself, I haven't occation to do much dancing. Don't mind it though and I expect I can learn. I do like to read. You had mentioned that yourself. I should study history and law, more."
"If you ever need any recommendations, my lord, I would be happy to provide. Or instruction, perhaps," Roslyn teases quietly, her lips lifting in a wider smile. But, she adds more seriously, "Your library at the Four Eagles Tower has a rather interesting book on the history of the Stepstones."
"We shall see, Lady Roslyn. Should our father's come to any agreement as concerns yourself and me, then I expect there will be a good deal of time for us to learn many things from and of, each other." Justin quirks his mouth into a half smile, "You mentioned it before. Perhaps I'll give it a try." And trying the waters somewhat, he asks, "Has your brother then spoken to your father? Will he and yourself be returning to the Roost soon or need you wait?"
"We have spoken to our father, though he needs time to think over such an arrangement. If I may speak boldly, my lord?" Roslyn requests with a flick of her gaze over Justin, inclining her chin in a gesture of deference. Then she continues, "There is much to give my lord father pause, as Lord Terrick requested of my brother to name a Nayland bride of his own choice. It is an odd request, and certainly enough to give any lord pause." She smoothes her fingers over her skirts with a quick gesture, laughing softly. "I would understand if he simply did not want a lady my age, but then we could always offer arrangements with one of my lady cousins. But naming his own bride?"
Justin of course gives a nod to encourage her to speak her mind. Hearing her out, he opens his mouth but hesitates before he gives reply to that, "I really have no idea, lest he thinks I'd prefer someone younger." Justin glances up the path they have chosen to walk, staying alert to who and what is around them as they speak low. He looks back to Roslyn, "Not so much older than I that I should have objection. Long as you could give my House needed children, Lady Roslyn. As for some cousin you might have, who else would there be? I can't imagine my father would realistically think your House would allow the Lady Isolde betrothal to a Terrick, after all that's happened. He won't even speak her name, anymore."
If /he/ has desire or ambition to wed the Lady Isolde and regain Stonebridge, Justin keeps that to himself.
"No, perhaps he may not realistically think so, but what better excuse to show that we renege on our negotiations, Lord Justin?" Roslyn muses quietly, her gaze dropping to the trail instead of keeping such intent watch about her. "Forgive me, that must sound horrible to think of your lord father, but in truth I do not know him. I only worry, my lord." She pauses, drawing still and turning towards Justin with a quick look around them. "Perhaps you could speak to him. We both value what could come of this alliance, and I know that I shall work to see it done."
His natural wariness comes back up when she stops walking and the tone of conversation changes. His face had finally relaxed some of the strain around his eyes and mouth but Justin is at once more guarded at her request, "I can't claim to to know his mind myself, my lady. And your father far less so, though I can't imagine Lord Rickart will leave that loophole open in any case, should he otherwise agree. All he need do is stipulate a Nayland bride by /blood/ as has already been voiced, or so I'm told." Though he was not presant for Riordan's meeting with his father, Justin certainly milked for all the details he could get of it. "You can trust that my father is an honorable man, Lady Roslyn. He would not use trickery to secure what was lost by our own mishandling, no matter how much it rankles. I will speak to him but I make no promises, for I would hear his wisdom upon the matter."
"All I ask is that, my lord. Not even that you report to me what you may talk of, only that you speak to your father," Roslyn agrees easily, her lips lifting in a smile at the young lord's offered words. "I know it must be hard to trust what you know little of. I find it very difficult myself."
Justin thins his mouth a bit, still standing with his hands clasped lightly behind his back. "Do you, with so much family around you that you know well? It would seem a security to have them ranged about you, Lady Roslyn. What need for you to distrust with them so able?"
"I have no reason to distrust my own blood, Lord Justin. I only speak to your trust of me, and the understanding that you only know little of me except what your family has spoken of mine," Roslyn demurs, apologetic in the warm brush of her tone as she ducks her head briefly.
He huffs a breath softly then, "Anymore than you know me well enough to trust. It is only natural that with what lays between our families, whatever the Seven that might be, trust will have to be earned in time. But, /some/ measure of it must be offered if we are to make fertile ground of out ruins that lay between our Houses." Yet clearly Justin is still cautious of it all the same. "I do not know what you think of me, except … surely that I am young. You don't seem caught up in foolish distractions, Lady Roslyn. I can appreciate that."
"Young, but honorable, I would hazard. You speak how you feel, and I do appreciate that even with whatever words it earns," Roslyn replies carefully, for all that a smile lingers at her lips. She manages not to look guilty at the topic of foolish distractions, though she does add in a murmur, "Perhaps, but what I want most of all is for the good of my house, and that is tied with yours." Even where it wasn't offered before, the lady moves to slip her hand in his arm, unless he objects, before turning them back to their path and more mundane conversations such as interests and the tourney.
Of course Justin isn't about to object to her slipping her hand into the crook of his arm. He glances back to Lady Roslyn's guard and maid but says nothing to them, starting once more to walk with her. He turns thoughtful and quiet, pleased to hear her speak of whatever she likes and if anything, Justin likes that Roslyn saw fit to take his arm to finish their walk together. If nothing else he can ask her what things she remembers the most fondly from her childhood.
