|That Sounds Sensible|
|Summary:||Senna and Markus come to an agreement about their…relationship. Arrangement. Whatever it is.|
|Related Logs:||Sure. But you can hunt them down.|
|Waterfront — Seagard|
|Seagard's waterfront was once the gateway to a bustling port, both for the Mallister naval fleet and merchant ships that docked here from all corners of the River coast, West, and even lands farther south. The Ironborn's initial attack on the city laid it low, however, and the wreckage of that initial assault still litters the sea. The Mallister fleet was demolished in that first wave, and the blackened remains of its once-proud war galleys float off the docks. The merchant stalls, customs stations and seedy dockside taverns that once thrived here are largely burnt as well, the Ironborn having looted and gutted them before they were driven from this part of the city. The dock - one of Seagard's three major ones - is still intact, however, and there's enough raw space in the stone buildings that couldn't be burned to house supplies.|
|February 3, 289|
A morning rain washed away some of the grime and blood of the week's battles, though there's too much for it to all be gone. But as some of the camps have broken up, the simple pressure of population has eased. Likewise, the injured have either died off or improved enough to allow Senna a chance to get away from the sickbeds for a bit. She looks better rested than she has in some time, walking along the shore with her shoes in her hand. It's really probably not very safe or sanity at the moment, but she'll take what she can get.
She'd left word on where to find her, because finding her else wise would be an exercise in futility; despite the dissipation of some of the armed camps about Seagard, the place was still teeming with people and massive besides, and they but two individuals. When he arrives on the same beach she walks across, rested and seeming full of a bit more vigor than of late, Markus does crack a small smile, though it's not likely one she'll notice. He's still armed, if not armored, his boots seeming to attract more unpleasant detritus than her bare feet.
Senna glances up at the sound of an approach, ever aware to that sort of thing, though and concern fades to a small smile when she sees the source. "Wasn't sure if you'd be able to get away," she greets him, reaching into her skirts and pulling out a small, slightly withered apple. "Hungry?" she offers.
"Things are quieting down, at least for a few days," Markus expresses as she turns in his direction, and he does lift a hand out for the apple. He's eaten far worse and enjoyed it, so the withered state of the fruit is of little concern to him. "You alright, Sen? Haven't seen much of you, these past few days."
"Been busy," Senna admits, shrugging one shoulder as she tosses the apple to his waiting hand. "Trying to keep everyone healthy and alive. And then trying to catch up on my sleep. Finding things out. Keeping track of what's happening." She glances over from beneath her lashes then looks back to the water. "Besides, you've got a job with the Flints. Don't need me hovering around all the time."
He takes a small bite from the apple, quick to lick up the juices that run down the side of his mouth. "Mmm, that so?" Markus wonders as he grows nearer, taking another small bite and then holding then thing out towards Senna, should she want a taste. "Sounds like something a woman says when she's pissed at you," he remarks, though casually so.
Senna's lips quirk as she looks over at him, amused. "I'm not pissed," she replies simply, taking the apple and taking a bite out of it before passing it back. "I'm being professional." Pensive, she chews in silence for a long moment. "And maybe I feel a little awkward about…us. In general," she finally admits. "I'm not sure how it's supposed to work. I know what we were. I'm not entirely sure what we are now. And I'm not sure what you or I want us to be. So…I don't know. I just want to make sure your options are open, I guess.
"See?" Markus lets out a breath as he takes the apple back from her, taking a small bite and chewing it slowly. "I knew there was something." He offers the apple back to her and stalks a few steps away, as if gathering his thoughts about him. "And you ask me that like I should know the answer? And what… my options open? What the hell does that even mean, anyways?" He's not yelling, just sounding a touch frustrated as he inserts a few steps of physical distance between them.
"I'm not /asking/, Markus," Senna replies evenly, though she watches him as she takes another bite, one arm folded beneath her breasts. "You're the one who was asking. I'm just telling you what I'm thinking." Again, she chews slowly, then shakes her head. "I don't know, Markus. I mean, you're family. The thing is, neither you nor I have much of an idea of how you deal with family you thought was dead and then it turns out they're alive and kicking. It's just- It's just that it used to be the one thing I knew was that you, and me, and my father, we stuck together no matter what. That was the one constant. But that was a crap life, Markus. And you moved on. And I moved on. And maybe you like being able to do what you want, you know?"
His pace away from her does stop after a few steps, Markus lifting a glance over his shoulder at her. "Maybe I like this, maybe I like that. Why don't you tell me what it is you like, Sen? I don't imagine the years have turned you into a woman who meekly waits to find out what others want…"
"No." Senna presses her lips together a moment, the back of her hand hiding her mouth as the apple rests between her fingers. "No, but they've taught me that wanting things is dangerous. That getting attached to things can make you weak." She sighs, lowering her hand as she looks away. "It feels good, being with you. Having someone to trust. Someone you're not using. But that can be…dangerous."
"It never was before," Markus points out to her, turning to properly face her again. He runs a hand through his hair and lets out a breath. "What's wrong that has you thinking about all of this, Sen? I mean, you're right… this has been good for us both. I don't have to worry with you, I know who you are, and I trust you."
"Nothing's wrong." Senna moves toward him again, trying to slip one arm around his waist, the other around his neck so that the apple dangles by his lips. "I just…We're different people than we were." She leans forward to take another bite of the apple without looking away from his eyes. "There's a lot more fucking. Don't get me wrong," she adds. "It's…very nice. I just don't know if or how it changes things. Or what I think about how it /might/ change things."
He doesn't begrudge her that closeness, putting an arm around her when she comes to him. "I do really enjoy the fucking," Markus admits, with even a faint smile to curve at the corners of his mouth. "So what is it you're afraid of?" he asks, his eyes keeping that gaze of hers easy enough. "That I'm going to go ballistic when I find out you're still using sex to get what you want from others, or that you're going to start falling for me? Something else?"
"Both of those," Senna allows with a nod. "And that people will stop seeing me as available. That's a large part of seduction, you know. They have to believe they have a chance." She finally looks away from him, though it's only to duck her chin and brush a kiss against his throat, lips sticky with juice from the apple. "And then there's the fact that we're working for some pretty disparate people."
Markus' adam's apple rises and falls beneath her warm mouth as he swallows, reaching up to tangle a hand into her hair. "The Charltons want me, when this is all over. The Flints, too," he confesses, when she brings up he disparate parties to which they are both attached. "I don't know, Sen. I mean, I know… I figure things are like they were when we were younger. You do what you have to do, and I just try to understand and not stare it in the face and go on with things… you just don't play so reluctant with me anymore. Can't that work? We don't need to announce to the world what we are…" He lifts up her chin so he can catch her eyes again. "Hell, I'm not even sure you'd want people to know anymore. I'm sure you've had a better story for all of them than the truth."
Senna's lips press more insistently against his skin, arms tightening to pull her body against his…until those last words. At that, she winces slightly, chin dropping. "Yeah. That's…a minor complication." Reluctantly, she eases her grasp on him, taking a half a step back. "The story's that Father managed to get a post as a sheriff out of Mother's family after she died. Little place just east of Harrenhal. It seemed…safer, after."
He shrugs a touch, though he does frown when she withdraws some, his hand snaking out of her hair and finding purchase on her hip instead. "I can lie, Sen. I mean… I'm not embarrassed of where we come from, but it's not a badge of honor I need to show off to everyone who cares to look," Markus points out.
"Not now, at least." There's a glimmer of pride in Senna's eyes as she looks up at him, lips curving in a faint smile. "You've fought well enough here not to need to quote campaigns. But you're not the only knight who's been east, Markus. Anton Valentin, Alek Coope, Gedeon Rivers. They all spent time abroad, too." Catching her lower lip between her teeth, she considers his features. "Charlton, hmm?" she muses. "A bit closer, at least."
"What's it matter if they've been east? It's a plenty big place, Sen." Markus shrugs again a bit, looking down the short distance at her, his lips summoning up a smile when he catches one renewing on her mouth. "Anyways, I don't give a shit about all that. I'm not letting you go again, Sen. Tell me who has to get the pointy end of my sword if it needs be, but let me make that part clear, alright? Not sure how the specifics are supposed to work, but we're both adults, can't we just agree to talk about shit before getting pissy, and see where that gets us?"
Senna's lips quirk once more at his words, amusement clear in the expression. "Well sure, we could do that," she agrees with a low laugh, a measure of tension easing from her shoulders. "Sounds awful sensible, though." She turns her wrist, offering the apple to his lips with a crooked smile.
He takes a small nibble of the apple, and adds, around the bites, "But if I ever catch you in the middle of fucking some other man, I might have to kill him. Girls I'm okay with. Might hop in." Markus's smile turns into a slow grin, which seems to be his way of letting her know that the serious talk is over, at least until it needs come up again.
"So back to the scarf on the tent post, then?" Senna laughs softly, wrapping her arm around his neck more tightly to bring the apple to her own lips for another bite. "Not a lot of call for girls here. At least for ones who'd be safe for you to join in with. Suppose there might be a few ladies who'd like a hand from a maid, but most of them should have the sense not to screw around on their husbands."
Another laugh, and his arms are both wrapped around Senna's middle. "You know, that would be a great way to make it up to me for having ditched me at the Trident to go off and live your fabulous new life," Markus tells her. "Find another girl that wants to come and play with us sometime. Noble or not, I don't really care, so long as it is fun." He waggles his brows a bit in play.
Senna rolls her eyes. "I don't have anything to make up to you," she protests. "Where were you at the end of the battle, hmm? I did what I had to so I didn't end up dead or raped. Besides." The arm around his waist shifts, her hand reaching to slip within his waistband. "Once I've got my hands on you, I'm not interested in sharing." The words are growled softly against his throat, followed by a scrape of teeth.
What starts off as a noise of protest at her answer becomes a slightly pleased sort of groan as he feels her hand sneak beneath, a warm, rich laugh coming from his throat. "No, suppose you don't, but at least if you have a noble lady that you can manipulate…" His voice trails off and his hand slides down to cover hers through the material of his pants. "Just keep doing that," he tells her.
"Only if you shut up about noble ladies," Senna murmurs against his throat, lips curving on his skin. She shifts, stepping closer so that the fall of her skirts veils whatever activity occurs between their bodies. For all anyone watching might see, they're just a couple of young lovers making out on the sand. "My mother was a noble lady. So if you really like the idea, then you just imagine you've got Senna you grew up with, and noble Senna, all at the same time." She does not, however, stop doing that.