|The Last Dance|
|Summary:||The Freys hold a dance to punctuate the end of the tourney. The Naylands get in a bit of a mess.|
|Date:||May 25, 2012|
|Related Logs:||All the logs.|
|Grand Hall — The Twins|
|The heavy stone walls of The Twins hang thickly with tapestry and trophy, hinting of the wealth the Freys hold before one even reaches the decadent center of the party. Although the entry to which carries the reminder of their strength, so much as their wealth, past curtain walls and over a deep moat with the gleaming portcullis lingering a malevolent reminder overhead. In the Grand Hall, the light artifice of the Tourney is put to shame with the rich scents of food and wine coating the air as poignantly as a Dornish perfume, oddly sweet and muggy with summer heat. A trio of musicians play in the corner, attentive to the mood of the party and its guests with quiet breaks for conversation between the rounds of dance.|
|May 25, 289|
There is a fine line between displaying one's wealth and wasting money on it. Walder Frey is not familiar with that line. Tournament or no, assembled nobility or no, there's no reason to spend /too/ much on people who are just guests. So there are pockets of glittering spectacle…followed by odd little cost-cutting measures. There are many courses of food, though few of them are rare or spectacular, and while there are many candles, they give off a slightly greasy smoke. And the hall, of course, is full of Freys. Freys and other nobility, but the Freys have an disproportionate representation.
The meal has been underway for long enough for minstrels and musicians - already gathered for the tournament - to take their turns on a small dias, rotating in and out to keep the music running, and those who have already eaten are taking to the floor for dances. Rumor has it there's a prize for the minstrel or musician who performs the best.
I have only one word for you wiminz: Hot Sean Connery in the form of Artur has arrived in really tight pants and a surcoat, shaven and hair styled, walking along and ready to break a leg on the dance floor. This is all. Please continue with your festivities as hot sean connery finds wine.
For once, Tia is here to dance, though no doubt there would be a harp around if she had reason to play. She is not dressed in mourning for the second time in the past five months, though her mourning period is not yet over, merely eased for the festivities. She has a maid and guard, but they're seated with the rest of the chaperones, keeping watch from a nice safe distance. Tia has just finished eating, wiped her hands, and is now turning her attention to the dance floor and to watching who else is around and what they're doing.
While nursing a glass of wine, Katrin ambles along the edge of the Hall, passing polite smiles to those she has had the opportunity to meet and taking note of those that she might want to meet when the opportunity presents itself. Her Septa and maid watch from a distance, ensuring that their charge does not get in to too much trouble through the evening, but still providing space so she might have at least a bit of fun.
Well, someone who is not Sean Connery has bothered to wash up, and even smartly trim stubble on his face to a crisp edge that makes him look like he has a very thin shadow of beard, without being a beard quite. Justin Terrick has on his very finest clothes, a faintly silvery grey hued velvet doubtlet that is at the same time pale blue-violet. Slits in the long sleeved jacket are fitted with flashes of brilliant purple and golden hued trim, brass rather than gold buttons are eagles polished up nearly as brightly as if they had been cast in yellow gold. Matched with snug fitting charcoal grey breeches, he wears no weapons tonight, his feet shod in soft black leather shoes with embroidery. About as swank as Justin is likely to turn out in these current times. He's already picked up a glass of wine, his grey eyes checking out the variety of lovely women in attendance though alas, he does not espy Roslyn Nayland among them.
Saffron Banefort had started the night amongst that disproportionate representation. She quickly lost track of which Walder, Walda, and its variants, were which. She confused a Waldyr for Smaller-Than-Small Walder, and lets not even get into the embarrassment of confusing Walda for her brother. She felt like a songbird amongst a sea of hungry cats, carefully tiptoeing her way through their numbers at the side of the tall, rail-thin Walden Frey. Lord Walden had not learned his own pacing, and before the food could even arrive, he was sick to his gut with wine and equally boisterous. Eventually, he was dragged off by his older brother before he started a greater ruckus. Saffron has now taken her abandonment and solitude to cautiously wander back toward familiar faces and comforting surroundings. She passes by Justin Terrick, her own wine goblet clutched between her pale hands. "Lord Justin," she greets softly, and with a small smile.
Ser Riordan Nayland, the Lord Regent of Stonebridge, has been here for some time, having arrived for the feast. Whatever his skills in dancing, or lack there of, as one of the five reigning champions of the Tournament, it is more or less required that he put in some face time. So now, having eaten his fill, the Nayland Regent makes his rounds through the crowd, though he is very careful with just how close he gets to the dance floor - or any eager young lady who may be looking to get close to it herself. Riordan is dressed finely and well, as befits his station, as it is also expected of him - though more then likely he wishes he looked a little less dapper, as he ducks through the crowd a bit faster to escape a particularly avarious looking, weasel-faced Frey woman, in an attempt to forestall the inevitable invitation to dance.
Kamron certainly isn't likely to be tripping the light fantastic with his left shoulder bound up and his arm tied across his stomach. Still, he's eaten heartily of the simpler fare, and had a glass of wine or two. He's even chit-chatted. What's more, he's even chit-chatted with FREYs. He watches Lord Walden Frey being led away by his kin, and moves slowly, carefully through the crowd before finding himself face to face with Riordan Nayland. A chuckle crosses his lips, and he nods his head politely, "Ser Riordan." He glances behind the Nayland, then adds, "She found a Mooten. You're safe for now." A gesture is made toward his left shoulder, "You should get one of these. It's a great excuse."
Anais Terrick is apparently in her element. Frey, Piper, Smallwood, Mallister…Whoever they are, if they're on the dance floor, then Anais is willing to take a turn with them. Graceful, light on her feet, and above all laughing and cheerful, she passes from one hand to another along the dance floor, thoroughly enjoying herself. There was eating, yes. But this is dancing, and there are only so many chances for that. It isn't likely anyone will draw her attention from the floor for quite some time.
Tia catches sight of Katrin, and heads over in her direction, with a bit of a smile. "Lady Katrin, it is nice to see you," she says warmly. "How are you doing today? Have you enjoyed the festivities so far?" She pauses to look at the dance floor, now standing at the side of it, and watching the dancers for the moment. She does save a glance for the musicians, a thoughtful look as if to judge their skill, but her attention is mostly on the dance floor and on Katrin.
Having dressed up for the occasion, Martyn steps into the hall, looking around for a few moments. He's moving a bit stiffly, compared to how he usually walks, and on the middle finger of his left hand, there's a bandage wrapped tight. He looks around for a few moments as he makes his way further into the crowd, glancing back to the doors for a few moments. One thing can be said about him, he doesn't quite look at ease in this environment.
"Lady Tiaryn," Katrin greets with a warm smile. "A pleasure to see you again. It has been quite some time." She looks about her and nods, "Yes, I arrived late to the Tourney but have enjoyed it immensely since I arrived. There is so much to see and do here. It is hard to imagine that it is already over." Her eyes follow Tiaryn's gaze to the musicians and she tilts her head to the side. "Will you join them this evening, My Lady?"
Justin has eaten well but not heavily, and passed conversation at table with anyone near enough who had interest to do so, no matter their house. With enough wine in him now to be relaxed himself, he's definitely not frowning even if he's not yet smiling either. He gives a polite nod to Katrin, then notices Tiaryn's rather handsome gown in it's shades of blues with subtle beadwork that indeed easily reminds him of the sea. Justin's attention notes Anais mingling and enjoying herself but as yet, he is content to stand apart by himself and observe all the others.
"Seven be praised," Riordan exhales with great relief at the Kamron's words, glancing over to double check, just in case. Upon finding it so, his body seems to relax a little, and he even lets out a laugh as he turns back to the Mallister knight. "Thank you, Ser Kamron. For the scouting report, and the advice both," he says, bemusement in his eyes as he offers a slight bow of gratitude, followed up by a wink. "Do not think I was not tempted. But my sister would have been sorely disappointed in me… not to mention, she likely would have found cause to pay me back for all the foul Maester's potions I made her drink this week past." There's a very visible shudder at the very though, followed by another chuckle.
Black certainly makes for a dull outfit, and wrapped all in black silk for the mourning of her mother, Lucienne Terrick skirts the dancefloor with a sharp look in her dark eyes. She's studying the dancers, looking for someone. IS IT YOU?
"I am hoping to dance," Tia says to Katrin, shaking her head briefly. "But perhaps if my knee does not hold out, I might find myself relegated to playing music. I do hope not as I truly enjoy dancing as well." She gestures to the dance floor and then looks at Katrin again. "And you? Are you going to dance? It should be quite fun, I think. And just look at Lady Anais already out there enjoying herself. Good for her."
And there is Rosanna Groves, joining the dance from the feast with her brother. She's looking particularly lovely in a pale green gown that brings to light the youth of her figure. Her hair is swept up on top, but left to tumble down past her shoulders in bright, auburn curls. She's taken Kittridge's arm to urge him to the party proper now that things are beginning to dance.
Kittridge does not require a great deal of urging, but he lets his sister nudge him along all the same. Their path towards the party proper brings them past Tiaryn and Katrin, and he turns to greet them politely with a bow, "Lady Tiaryn, good evening," he says, "A pleasure to see you again." He smiles at Katrin, but awaits introductions.
Katrin passes a smile in greeting over to Justin at the acknowledgement but does not break away from her conversation with Tiaryn. "I had hoped for the opportunity to dance this evening," she says with a nod. "I have always enjoyed it. Perhaps I shall just have to ensnare some poor fellow who will not realize what has happened until it is far too late." A pause before smiling. "Your gown is quite lovely, My Lady. I hope you will pass along the name of your seamstress so I might commission a gown from her as well." At Kittridge's approach, her head tilts to the side slightly but also waits, looking aside to her companion.
Ser Jarod Rivers is dressed in black too, though it's just the doublet he dusts off for 'special' occasions, with gold piping on the collar and cuffs. It's not so much a mourning garment, though those familiar with his surcoat would recognize the colors as copies of those used for his 'bastard' heraldry. He arrives to the party quietly enough, with a tall, slender dark-haired woman in a gown of blue silk on his arm. Who some might recognize as Rowenna Rose Nayland, not in trousers or anything. "Maybe now people will believe you're a girl," he says low to her. With a smirk, so it's probably half a joke. But still he probably relishes the occasion to prove he hasn't taken to wearing dresses.
Artur ends up near Justin, finding himself a glass of wine and nodding, "Nephew. Enjoying the festivities?" He sips at the glass before turning around to idly survey those present in search of potential suitors for a dance. Idly to Justin, he throws this out, "You think I'm too old to marry Nephew?" He seems serious so this may be a senile moment for Artur or maybe he's actually asking for an answer, another sip of the cup being taken so that the wine chases away the worry.
"Oh, Lady Tiaryn, Lady Katrin, you both look lovely," Rosanna gushes as she approaches them with her brother. "Everyone does. Isn't it just resplendent?" She glances at Kittridge as he only greets one of the ladies and picks up on her duty. "Oh, Lady Katrin, have you not had occasion to meet my brother? Ser Kittridge Groves."
Having partaken of some of the food there was to offer, Saethwyr has then claimed a glass of wine. Yet he's discreetly been dodging the dance floor, savoring his wine here and there along the way as he walks along the edges. He pauses along the way, looking over the folks who are on the dance floor, and then he lifts his left hand to lightly pull his fingers through his hair. He's dressed finely, for the occasion, and if he has bandages, they're not visible. Lifting his goblet, he takes a sip of the wine, his dark gaze wandering over those who are already present.
Kamron nods at Riordan, glancing over to where Anais is twirling about the dance floor with some man completely unknown to the Mallister, and then over to where the Terrick men are talking, and he shrugs his right shoulder, even wincing just a bit at that, "I'm sure I disappointed a few people myself, Ser Riordan. Myself not least of all. Were it war, I probably would have tried to stay out there, but there was no point in my flailing around worthlessly and just getting hurt worse in a tourney." Shaking his head, Kamron chuckles a little dryly, "At least, that's what I tell myself. But you, you rode very well in the tilt. I had half a mind to challenge you myself, but I couldn't resist a run at a Frey." Gesturing up to his shoulder, he adds, "Now I'm wishing I had."
Katrin's look over towards Justin cues Tia to look that way as well and she inclines her head his way as well, with a faint smile. "Lord Groves," Tia replies easily, as those two arrive. She curtseys politely. "And Lady Rosanna. It is nice to see you both again." She pauses a moment, and then she smiles. "and thank you all on the compliments. Lady Katrin Haigh, this is Lord Kittridge Groves. Lord Groves, Lady Katrin Haigh." There, see? Introductions done. "And Lady Katrin, I will certainly provide the name of the seamstress for you, though I do not have that information at hand. Remind me when we are back in Stonebridge?" Rosanna gets another smile, Tia's blue eyes lighting up. "It is quite resplendent and you are a vision of loveliness, Rosanna."
If Lucienne is looking to see if Justin's wearing black tonight, she'll be mostly disappointed for he is not. Yet he has the obligatory black ribbon bound to his upper left arm. He is even yet looking back to Lady Tiaryn when he hears Saffron repeat his name, "Lady Saffron, my apology for being inattentive." He notes her gown, it's hues and textures before the sides of his mouth curl faintly, "You are lovely tonight. I would have expected lady Tiaryn to be wearing your gown for her beloved woods, and you hers, for the sea."
Artur showing up on his other side coaxes Justin to smile more wryly, "You are not too old to marry, Great Uncle. Why the sudden change of heart? Is there a lady who's turned your head?" Justin starts to look incase she's here.
"Doubtful," smirks Rowenna, leaning up to kiss Jarod's cheek. "They'll probably just say, 'Oh, look! Jarod's gone and put his favorite boy in a dress!'" She glances around. "Do you see Rio? As Brother Most Obsessed with My Wardrobe, he should really see this."
Martyn makes his way through the crowd, nodding and offering quiet words of greeting here and there, but otherwise keeps relatively quiet for now. Looking around for people he knows too, but not approaching anyone in particular yet. In his mind, the only safe thing to do in a gathering like this would be to keep moving, it seems.
Rafferdy Nayland appears in the doorway. He looks around, rubbing his forearm a little nervously. This type of engagement is exactly the kind of noble affair he hates, and avoids. For him to be here, something must be up. On top of that, he's actually dressed up. Like a noble, even. He's wearing rather fancy, dark green slacks. Atop that is a sleeveless doublet with a high collar in the same color that leaves his muscular archer arms exposed, perhaps the only hint at his rebelliousness. The entire outfit is adorned with subtle orange trimmings. Around his bicep is a black ribbon. He looks around a little, sniffs once, and then slowly steps into the hall.
"A pleasure to meet you, Lady Katrin," Kittridge greets the Haigh with a friendly smile, bowing to her briefly to accompany the introduction. "I am finding so many familiar faces at this tourney, it is always nice to make some new friends as well," he says, "Have you ladies been enjoying yourselves, I hope?"
Out of the corner of her eye, Saffron also spies Tiaryn and Katrin, and she gives the former a gentle wave with a small smile budding up on her lips. Then her attention is captured back again by Justin, and then by the arrival of Artur. There is another glance toward Tiaryn and the growing gaggle of women around her, and she shakes her head a bit. "I promise you, I did not raid the Lady Flint's wardrobe, nor she mine, but thank you Lord Justin." She finds herself growing a little fidgety, as if she needs to keep moving, so onward she goes. "If you will excuse me," she says simply with another smile that almost brings out those dimples. She is on the move again, whispering toward Tiaryn.
"Lady Rosanna," Katrin greets brightly. "A pleasure, as always." She looks aside to Kittridge, offering a curtsey. "I am pleased to meet you, Ser Kittridge. This tounrey has been quite a wonderful experience." She asides to Tiaryn with a nod. "I will be certain to ask you again once we have returned to Stonebridge." Upon looking back to the entirety of the small group assembled, she smiles. "Have you enjoyed yourselves thus far? I must admit that I am sorry to see it end."
Jarod gets a laugh out of Rowenna's words, scanning the crowd. "I think I've got him spotted." He makes to steer her in Riordan's direction. Offering a little half-bow to the Regent of Stonebridge, once he's close enough for it. "Lord Riordan. Oh, Ser Kamron." The presence of the Mallister knight with the Nayland draws a grin. "The Freys can throw a decent party when they put their minds to it, I'll give them that."
Ah well, Justin flubbed that too it seems for he drives Lady Saffron away. He glances up at the heavens as if the Seven would grant him some greater wisdom in the ways of women. But probably not tonight.
Lucienne continues to prowl, simply waiting at the edge of the dancefloor, making some effort at conversation with passing lords and ladies as necessary. The occasional smile even graces her features. She drifts slowly, unwittingly, towards the Regent of Stonebridge and his current company.
"Oh, I found it wonderfully exciting," Rosanna says with bright enthusiasm. "It was my first real tourney, you know. Everything seemed to happen so fast, but then it took so long." Her gaze catches briefly on Rafferdy as she marks his entrance, and she wonders, "Have any of you ever seen Lord Rafferdy Nayland wear sleeves?"
"I certainly would have been more likely to unhorse you without injury, Ser Kamron," Riordan notes, laughter in his tones and eyes both. But it is genial laughter, not the type had at any one person's expense. "But, that said, you are right, Ser. I have been on the circuit before, and I have seen knights and others injure themselves unnecessarily. And injuries stay with you. Sometimes, better to wait, so that you can come back all the stronger next time." Even as he says these words of encouragement, which indeed are truly meant, he follows Kamron's gazes, though his lingers perhaps just a touch longer on Anais as she twirls about. His smile grows just a touch, before he is then looking to the Terrick group. He seems about to make a comment, before he hears a familiar voice nearby. "Ser Jarod. Lady Sister." Both his greetings are warm, but the emphasized word is not done to condescend, but rather a tone of pride, as he sees her decked out in a way that reflects well on their house. "Enjoying yourselves, I hope?" Even as he greets his sister and her husband, though, his eyes stray back to the direction he was looking before. Indeed, his eyes seem to focus every so often on the approaching, thinly built lady in black.
Tia returns Saffron's wave, but waits for that fine lady to join the group before speaking to her. "I have enjoyed myself, yes. Though it does seem as if it is all ending too quickly." She looks towards Katrin as she answers that question. At Rosanna's words, she says, "Oh, your first tourney? That is quite exciting for you. I have to admit I've not been to many. I think I might like to change that, if I can." She pauses to look at the dancefloor a little wistfully.
Kamron nods to Jarod and Rowenna as they approach, "Ser Jarod, Lady Rowenna. A pleasure." At a to-do like this, he's apparently going to be more formal in his address. He nods his agreement at the bastard's words about the party, "Quite. At least they didn't try to make the food too rich." From some men, that would be a complaint, or a sarcastic, cutting remark. From Kamron Mallister, however, it sounds almost heartfelt. Riordan's words draw rich laughter from the Mallister, and he nods, "Oh. It would have been -much- better if I had waited. Or just saved myself entirely for the melee. Alas, my cousin is the Mallister who thinks too much, and I the one who thinks too little." He seems distracted enough by the discussion with his present company that he has not yet noticed the approach of Lucienne. Or maybe his back is just toward her.
Saffron arrives near Tiaryn and the gathering that continues to grow. She smiles broadly to the woman, and out comes those dimples. "Lady Tiaryn, I hope I'm not intruding. I needed to compliment you about your dress, it was lovely from afar and is lovelier still up close." Her gaze wanders over those present, and she fights to recall if she has met them. After the long parade of W-named Freys, she's lucky she can remember which ones /weren't/ named after their Lord. She was certain there was a Sana, or something like that. Maybe an Awna? Oh well…
Artur pats Justin on the shoulder, "Next time, don't compare her wardrobe to another woman's." Then he takes another sip of wine, "And no, I didn't. I was just thinking it's time to retire and find me a wife, then be a rich lord who sits on his butt and spoils his nieces and wife, occasionally i might spoil my nephews. Anyways, she's nervous. You've been to one of these before? Go talk to her. And don't mention another woman."
And then he's off moving towards Jarod and Rowenna, idle curiosity apparent, "Jarod, Lady." There's a nod as his attention goes to Jarod, a smirk on his face, "So, jarod. How's life been?"
Having stepped away from the feasting, thus far Inigo Vance has avoided the dance floor. Whether this is is because of injuries sustained in the tournament, a lack of ability to dance or simply not having asked anyone is debatable, though it can be said he doesn't seem to be making any special effort to avoid dancing like it's the last thing he wants to do. He lingers casually, watching the dancers with an easy-going smile on his face. Like others, he's dressed his best for the occasion with an outfit that speaks of class and taste (or at the very least, getting the advice of someone with taste) with some elegant embroidery on display.
Rowenna drops a graceful curtsy to Riordan, smirking — though fondly — at his approval. "I thought you'd he pleased, brother dear." She kisses his cheek, then inclines her head in greeting to Kamron, "Ser," and Artur, "Lord Artur."
Saethwyr lightly brings a fingertip to trace around the rim of his goblet of wine. His dark gaze is still wandering, perhaps looking for someone or perhaps simply looking to see who is here. He takes note of Tiaryn, with the group of folks near to her. Taking another sip of his wine, he then starts to make his way around the dance floor to approach her group. His attention slips away from her to look towards those on the dance floor, but then returns as he continues on his way to meet her.
"My lord uncle." Jarod seems surprised, by pleasantly so, by Artur's appearance. "I didn't figure I'd see you here. I didn't know you danced." He sounds highly curious about the prospect. "Anyhow, life's…interesting, which is always better than not. Have you met my Rowenna Rose?" He sounds all of pride. It's as he looks around that he notices his half-sister lurking about in her spooky manner. Green eyes are a little tentative as he regards her, but he offers her a warm, "Lady Lucienne." Along with one of those flourishy mummer's show bows he likes so much.
"Yeah, got that, thanks." Justin mutters low to his Great Uncle Artur, who obviously is Mr. HotDate. So he tastes his own wine, his pale eyes following Lucienne's progress through the fine hall. Artur's words draw his gaze to the older man, "Spoil your nephews how? With most excellent advice?" Justin smirks playfully before his attention goes back to Saffron, "Yes, I have. Lord Tully is fond of his parties though … Ser Haffrey avoided them like the plague. I never learned to dance, much." A faint negative movement of his head that he's not going to follow Saffron, "She's betrothed to a Frey and I think she's sweet on Lord Kamron, maybe." Justin hasn't really figured Saffron out yet, or any other woman for that matter.
Katrin chuckles softly as Rosanna speaks. "I myself have not been to a tourney in quite some time. It was quite fun to be here again and see it in a new light." Her gaze drifts across toward Rafferdy and his bare arms and a light smile appears. "Perhaps he is just… displaying his best assets, Lady Rosanna," she suggests mildly.
Rafferdy makes his way over to where his siblings are standing, smiling widely at Rowanna, "Hey kids," he greets with a chuckle. He nods at Riordan, then at Jarod. "How are we this evening?" He glances over and notices Katrin, but then looks back at his family.
Tiaryn beams at Saffron. "Oh, thank you," she says with a big smile, quite pleased at the compliments she's receiving. "You have a lovely dress as well, and it suits you perfectly." She's not opposed to such compliments. Then she actually gives Kittridge a mischievous glance. "have you noticed how many of the men, other than Ser Kittridge here, are circling the dance floor? I'm not sure if they should be likened to wolves prowling or to kittens hiding."
"How unfortunate he has nothing better to offer," Rosanna says with airily mirthful judgment, drawing her gaze away from Rafferdy and back to Katrin and Tiaryn. And then Saffron, as she approaches, and the Groves lady offers her one of those oh-hello-someone-introduce-me-now sort of smiles. She laughs at Tiaryn's words. "I can never figure out why so many mean are so loathe to dance. Perhaps I'm just confused because Kittridge has never been scared of it."
Ser Kittridge laughs, and shrugs at his sister and Tiaryn, replying, "I certainly don't know. But then, most of them aren't as good at it as I am." He winks, and then smiles at Saffron, saying, "Hello, lady. I don't think we've had the pleasure of an introduction. Perhaps Lady Tiaryn you would be so kind? And then perhaps you would do me the further favor of a dance?"
Some Piper or another steps up to offer condolences to Lucienne, whose smile presses rather thin at the mention of it, but she dips her head in a gracious nod. It slows her progression as she's forced to make conversation for a moment or two, but eventually, the slender Terrick girl is on the move again, still making eyes at the dancefloor and its occupants.
Still smiling pleasantly, Rowenna drops a curtsy to Lord Artur as she's presented, then another to Lucienne. "Lady, how good to see you. Please pardon me, everyone…" And before it's entirely clear what she's begging pardon, for, Lady Rowenna has turned and decked her brother Lord Rafferdy in the face with enough straight-up wrath to lay the man out flat.
Riordan beams at Rowenna, even more so when she kisses his cheek. He then allows her and Jarod both to speak to Artur, while he glances back to Kamron. "Myself, I avoid the melees, since they are far more likely to injure me then the jousts," he notes, laughter and warmth still plain in his tones. Then, as he notices Lucienne is closer to the little group, Riordan excuses himself to Kamron, and offers the lady-in-mourning a bow. "Lady Lucienne, good evening. It has been a long time," he says, by way of greeting.
"Thank you, Lady Tiaryn." Saffron beams, though then she also turns her sights on first Kittridge and then the other men about the hall. "Certainly kittens," Saffron says with earnest, and there is a small smile that pulls at her lips once more. "But I'm sure they will now all puff out their chests and inform us how they are too tired and bruised to be seen waltzing about the floor." She then meets Rosanna's smile with her own, and she offers a nod to both her and her brother. "My apologies. I'm Saffron Banefort."
Stepping up behind Tiaryn, though he doesn't mean to surprise her by doing so, Saethwyr quirks a smile. "We likely think ourselves to be wolves prowling for the perfect prey, so to speak, but we are also kittens hiding from the women who would crush us with a 'no'," he says with humour in his voice, his dark eyes showing a sparkle to them. Then his dark gaze flits lightly over the others before coming to settle on Tiaryn. "Ladies, you are all looking particularly lovely tonight," he compliments. Best to not single any one in particular out, though his dark gaze does rather hold upon Tiaryn.
Artur nods at Justin before he heads over to begin talking with Jarod, "Never going to know if you never go talk to her, but don't bug her too much I gather."
Artur laughs at Jarod, "Always better yes. You know you can just call me Artur, I've known you long enough we can skip the formalities, we are family after all." Then his attention is given to Lucienne, "Hello Lady Niece, how are you?" He sips again at the wine and then turns to Rowenna, bowing slightly, "Lady Rowenna. A friend of Jarod's is a friend of mine."
Justin knocks back the rest of his wine, which he can replace later. So fortified, he drops his goblet off as he starts to walk past a table and heads towards some of the women. After all, he needs practice, right? So he moves to follow Saffron but addresses the others including the Groves, "Good evening, Ladies, Ser." Yet it is to Tiaryn that Justin looks, even as Kittridge asks if she might dance with him. Whatever Justin was about to say to her himself, he hesitates, and then doesn't say it. Awkward.
Tia blinks and then a hand raises to her mouth for a brief moment. "Oh, forgive my manners," she exclaims. "Everyone, Lady Saffron Banefort. Lady Saffron, allow me to introduce Lord Kittridge Groves, Lady Rosanna Groves, and I think you might have already met Lady Katrin Haigh and - Oh. Lord Charlton. Uhm, everyone this is Lord Saethwyr Charlton."A pause and then she smiles at Kittridge. "And I would very much like to dance, Lord Kittridge, thank you."
Kamron nods to Artur as the older man approaches the little group, "Lord Artur." And then Jarod greets the woman behind him, and Kamron turns about to see who he's greeting. Bowing his head, the Mallister studies the woman, and puts two and two together. "Lady Lucienne. A pleasure to finally meet you. Ser Kamron Mallister." A chuckle rises to his lips as the group that started with he and Riordan continues to grow, "And since the group has gotten large enough to threaten the Freys with outnumbering them, I believe I will mingle elsewhere for a while. Ladies, Lords, Se — " His words cut off entirely when Rowenna turns around to punch someone. Blinking hard, the Mallister's eyebrows do their best to climb his forehead, "I'll be sure never to show at a party without sleeves, I think." As if the fashion faux pas was the cause of the right cross.
Rafferdy grins, "Anyone gonna—" And then he takes that punch to the face, tossing him around and down to the floor with an "oof!" He lays there for just a moment, rather surprised, before he turns his head upward, clearly confused as he looks at his sister. "Damnation…" he mutters as he rubs his jaw.
The current song ends, a well-played and stately thing from a respectable group of minstrels, and that group steps down only to be replaced by a group that looks to have gotten into the castle by the skin of their teeth. They go on to further prove their common roots by breaking into a swift reel, fingers dancing over fiddles. The more wary, sore, and cautious dancers leave the floor, leaving those with more confidence or less pride. Including Anais, who is apparently willing to take her chances with a Westerlands tourney knight.
It's probably a good thing that Martyn didn't hear the likening to animals. He's still doing his best to move through the crowd, hopefully as unnoticed as possible. Once in a while stopping for a few moments, grimacing a little bit, before he moves on once more. He comes to a stop as he sees Rowenna punching her brother, though, watching the two of them rather carefully now.
"You see?" Rosanna says with a laugh as Kittridge asks Tiaryn to dance. "Groves men are unafraid of a challenge." She turns back to Saffron to greet her with a dip of a curtsy. "Lady Saffron, how lovely to meet you." And then: "Ser Saethwyr, a plea—" She cuts off rather abruptly upon catching Rowenna deck her brother.
Katrin's gaze lingers over Rafferdy for a moment as she chuckles at Rosanna's comment but returns to her small group. Smiling to Saffron at her introduction, she tips her head. "Good evening, Lady Saffron," she greets. People seem to be popping up left and right and the Haigh is working on trying to keep up with everyone, passing out smiles and greetings to each but a word just drops right off her lips as she sees the commotion of Rafferdy getting smacked by a girl. "O-Oh my," is all she can say.
But the lady isn't done with her hapless brother, yet. Rowenna reaches down and grabs Rafferdy by the front of the tunic, hauling him bodily to his feet. "I don't even know what to call you," she growls. "'Son of a bitch' — out mother deserves better. 'Basatard' — I rather like bastards." She she hauls off to hit the poor — uh, something — again.
Okay, now it's a party. Inigo's attention goes from the dancers to a particular pair of Naylands as Rowenna punches Rafferdy square in the face hard enough to floor him. "Well, that's something you don't usually see at these events," he comments to anyone within earshot, probably looking more amused than he should.
Wow, Rafferdy just got laid out on the floor? Justin forgot what he had wanted to ask of Lady Tiaryn and simply stares for a moment.
"Perhaps he avoids sleeves because he's always anticipating a brawl," Kittridge suggests as he too turns to look at Rafferdy getting punched. He turns back to the ladies after a moment and smiles, "Wonderful," he says to Tiaryn, adding, "And perhaps, Lady Katrin, Lady Saffron, you would both be so kind as to save me a dance as well?" He offers a wide, friendly grin, and then to Tiaryn, his hand.
What was that? The sound of one hand punching another's face? Saffron turns around with an open expression of interest and confusion. She glances toward the company she has decided to keep with a bit of question in her eyes, but then she is back to staring like any good spectator of sibling sport. In her glance, she spies Ser Kamron and she gives him an arched look. Her name draws her attention away once again, and she beams dimples to the Groves lord. "Of course, Lord Kittridge. It is a simple kindness."
Jarod gives Rafferdy a long look when the Nayland greets him, and it's not a terribly friendly one. "Lord Rafferdy. We need to talk later, you and me." For Jarod's part, he seems content to leave it at that, for now, though the greeting is far from warm. He's more occupied with Lucienne…until the punching happens. That gets his attention back. "Seven hells, woman!" He makes to take her by the arms, to prevent more violence.
"Ser Jarod," comes the response from his black-bedecked half sister as she wanders near enough that a flourishy bow is noticed. "My lords, sers and ladies," she adds, as each in the party nearby offers her greeting. Summoning one of her warmer smiles, she fixes to add something further to Lord Riordan but… there seems to be some fuss. Oh dear.
Tia catches sight of Justin and smiles. "Lord Justin," she greets. "Please excuse - " Wait, is that Jarod's WIFE? Tia's never met her, but she's punching - oh. my. That is amusing. Her eyes dancing, she reaches to take Kittridge's hand, before remembering to finish her sentence. "Pray excuse me as the dance floor is calling me."
Rafferdy is pulled to his feet, still looking completely confused. "What the hell are you—" And then she hits him again, a spray of spittle and blood flying from his mouth as he spins with the punch. He stays on his feet this time, however, and he takes a step backward.
"Why does someone always have to ruin the party?" Rosanna huffs in a highly dissatisfied manner.
Riordan is probably one of the few here blatantly unsurprised when Rowenna floors Rafferdy. Indeed, his expression is rather one of mute grim amusement and satisfaction. He looks at his two siblings for a moment, before turning back to Lucienne. "If you'll excuse me, my lady, I hope we might talk in a future moment," he offers, apologetically, and then moves to where Rowenna and Rafferdy are. Since Jarod is attempting to stop Rowenna, Riordan simply moves to place himself between Rafferdy and his female assaulter.
Saethwyr inclines his head slightly towards the others, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. The movement is enough to cause a lock of his dark hair to fall forward and partially veil one of his eyes. "A pleasure," he says softly. He raises an eyebrow slightly as his attention is caught by the physical dispute. He softly clears his throat, then lifts his glass of wine to take a sip of it. His attention slips back to Lady Tiaryn fairly readily, and he inclines his head to her.
Artur feels sorry for Jarod, but looks over at him as the punch comes, "Why am I not surprised by this turn of events? You certainly would marry the feisty one." But he's still the great uncle because Jarod is always going to blooded terrick to Artur, so he moves in to help Jarod, though he's not going to touch a lady, so he moves to help riordan block the pass so to speak. Wine still in hand of course, and it's perfect, because who can hit hot sean connery? "Now now, I think we can calm down."
Rowenna draws herself up straight and tall as her husband pins her arms, lifting her chin to glare at Rafferdy in disdain. "If you weren't my blood, I'd call you out for your slander, you spider."
Kamron is doing his best not to laugh. Really he is. His good hand is raised, covering his mouth and stifling whatever sounds are trying to escape. Stepping back slightly, he glances around, catching Saffron's glance for a moment and holding up his right hand in a way that quite clearly says 'it's not me, I didn't do -anything-.'
"He is not a knight, sister," Riordan reminds Rowenna. And even if he does not add what he thinks about her knighthood, it is likely there in his expression. "If you must deal with him, and I agree you must, do it in private. There has been enough airing of this family's laundry in public to last us a few generations, I think." And, the entire time, he keeps himself between Rafferdy and Rowenna.
Katrin seems to be having trouble finding her words as she watches, mouth open but no sounds quite able to find their way out yet. Especially as Rafferdy gets decked a second time. Her eyes are wide but she manages a distracted nod to Kittridge. "I, uh, it would be a pleasure, Ser Kittridge," she says. "I do not remember dances being quite so… exciting in the past."
Justin has no f'ing clue what that is about so instead of getting involved, he snags another glass of wine from a passing server's tray. His attention slips back to Lucienne briefly, then to those making the commotion.
"Of course, my lord," Lucienne replies rather belatedly to Riordan, waving him off to help restrain his sister. This leaves her rather on her own, now, a step or two away from Kamron, perhaps, though she's certainly not as amused as the Mallister seems to be. Her eyes dart toward Justin, and she shrugs, and then frowns. Maybe she'll just slip over that way.
Rafferdy suddenly begins to figure out what's happened, and he scowls. Maybe his sister isn't a knight. But Riordan is. "Ser Riordan," he says, and lays his hand on Riordan's shoulder, turning him a bit as he punches his brother in the jaw as hard as he can.
The Banefort snorts as she catches the gesture from Kamron, and she shakes her head even while the amusement goes unmasked on her freckled face. She purses her lips a bit as she imagines what it would be like to let it all out and punch her own sister. Would Magnola Lannister look good in a broken nose? She muses on that for a moment before she glances toward Katrin with a small grin threatening her lips. "It must be the aura the Freys project," she says without even thinking twice about the fact that at that very moment her could-be betrothed probably has his head in his chamberpot.
"Not the time or place, m'dear," Jarod says in Rowenna's ear, tone low but firm. And not a little imploring. To Rafferdy he says nothing, but he glares at him long. Which might go unnoticed, with more punching. He tries to steer Rowenna away from involvement in that. Though he stays close enough to watch, of course. It's a fight, after all.
There's a bit of a chuckle for a few moments from Martyn as he sees the happenings now, but it disappears after a few moments. Stepping over a bit in Kamron's direction now. "Interesting ways they have of greeting their kin, the Naylands," he remarks, a bit dryly, before he adds, "How's the shoulder, cousin?" Gesturing to the other Mallister's shoulder with his hand with the bandaged finger.
Kittridge begins to lead Tiaryn toward the dance floor, but the party has, as the fight continues, more or less stopped, at least this region of it. As Rafferdy gets up, and then in turn punches Riordan, the Groves knight can't quite help but laugh out loud.
Artur moves to push Rafferdy away from his brother, "Seven hells you bunch of heathens. What the hell is wrong with you? Are you amusing yourselves by acting like fools. Knights? No, you're acting like street raffle."
"Ser Saethwyr," Rosanna says in a voice slightly raised, considering the hubbub. "As I was saying, it's a pleasure to—" And then Rafferdy starts in on Riordan, and she downright fumes. "What is wrong with them?"
There is certainly one thing that could pull Anais' attention from the never-ending supply of dance partners: a brawl. Between Naylands. Though the reel currently being played does add a certain slapstick quality to things.
Catching Lucienne's look to himself, Justin steps over to join her so she need not flee. He gently puts out his free hand to lightly touch her back as she looks like she could use some steadying. He keeps his voice low, "Just stay back and it'll settle. Do you want a glass of watered wine, Lucienne?" Half of Justin's attention is on Rafferdy now throwing a punch at Riordan, but Justin and Lucinne aren't very close by - or if they are, Justin will urge his slender sibling to step back and give them room.
Tia starts towards the dance floor, but pauses as Kittridge does, her own expression looking to break into a big smile. "Oh, gods, this is not appropriate," she murmurs, but she can't help but laugh softly. "I do hope they resolve whatever tensions have been brewing. Perhaps next party a brawl won't break out?"
"Yes," replies Lucienne decisively, to Justin's offer of a glass of wine. "Please. This is… ridiculous. And have you seen Anais?"
"And you, brother…" Riordan begins, turning as Rafferdy calls his name. But words are forstalled as Rafferdy's fist connects solidly with his face, and the Regent stumbles back, blood beginning to run down the corner of his lip. It goes unnoticed for now, as Riordan stares in wordless fury at his brother. "Ser Jarod, please take Rowenna somewhere else," he says, not bothering to check if this has already been done or not. And though his fist curls, that seems to be the end of it, Riordan showing no signs of hitting back. "Later," he says, simply. He holds his ground, but does not lift a hand to fight further, or defend himself. "Do not make a further spectacle of this family, Rafferdy."
And another punch is thrown. This time, Inigo doesn't just look amused he actually laughs out loud and raises a hand to cover his mouth. "I feel like we should be placing bets…" It's a few people short of becoming unarmed melee.
<FS3> Justin rolls Alertness: Good Success.
Speak her name and she shall appear! A little breathless and pink-cheeked from her dancing, Anais manages to weave her way to the edge of the floor near Lucienne and Justin. "What in the name of the Stranger is going on here?" she asks, rising up on her toes to try to get a better look.
Rafferdy shakes his head, "Says the Regent who fucked the girl of the knight the King gave Stonebridge to…" He grumbles, "How dare you speak to me of spectacles." He wipes the blood from his nose and mouth, and just turns, walking away.
Watching one Nayland hit another, and then that one hit yet another has Katrin's mind racing. Her hands raise to cover her mouth - though it's hard to say if it's from horror or trying to hold back another emotion. Her eyes are wide. "Are Naylands always so aggressive in their disputes?" she queries what is left of the group.
With a nod, Justin quietly hands Lucienne the glass of wine he had just acquired but not yet tasted himself, "Yes, she's here. I saw her dancing and looking like she was enjoying herself right before this started." Lucienne's brother looks around to see if he can spot tiny Anais in this mix of mostly standing around and gawking guests. Seeing her over there about a third of the way around the hall from them, Justin starts to guide Lucienne towards her. He steps back so they need not cross the cleared portion of the floor where the Naylands are embroiled.
Through the crowd comes the familiar — if now bruised, following the melee — form of Hosteen Frey, the largest and strongest of the family. Just call him the bouncer. Or, really, he has a few attendants in tow who are probably the actual bouncers, and he makes straight for the Nayland grouping. "My Lord father," he says to Riordan, Rafferdy, and most distinctly Rowenna, his words slow as if he's trying to remember exact phrasing, "says that if you wish to act like commoners, you may join them in the town square. You are welcome to return when you have — uh — remembered your nobility."
Meanwhile, a few Frey house guards start to work their way through the crowds toward the source of the problem…
Jarod's expression is one of more shock than anything else. Very red and jaw half-open, but he's not looking away. It's like a carriage wreck, you can't. "Guess we might not get to dance afterall," he mutters wry to Rowenna. He doesn't bother to hide his disappointment, or a touch of bite in her tone. He nods short to Riordan. "Aye. C'mon. We're in need of some air, I think." He attempts more steering of his wife, out the door this time.
Saethwyr raises an eyebrow slightly as he looks to Rosanna, and a smile comes to his features. Yet he lifts a shoulder — a bit stiffly, given certain bruises — at the question. "A pleasure to meet you, my Lady," he offers, having caught what she was attempting to say. "Perhaps they have had too much wine?" he poses, a vague suggestion rather than knowing anything for certain, a fact which echoes in his tone of voice. A glance is given to the… well, combatants… but then his dark gaze returns to Rosanna as he lifts his wine to take a sip of it.
When Rafferdy takes a swing at Riordan, Kamron's laughter abruptly stops. He looks over to Martyn, shaking his head, "Back in it's socket. Otherwise, it hurts like the blazes. Not so badly as Nayland faces must about now." When Ser Hosteen steps forward, Kamron nods at his words, then looks back to Martyn, "How's your finger, then?"
"I certainly hope not," Rosanna replies to Katrin, looking extremely put out. "They'll make a terrible name for themselves." Which clearly has GREAT PERSONAL IMPACT on herslf.
Riordan turns to speak to Hosteen, now being the only Nayland left to do so. He seems to either ignore Rafferdy's words as his brother departs, or simply did not hear them. "I apologize, Ser Hosteen, for the spectacle my family has caused. Please extend my apologies to your Lord Father as well. If you wish me and my kin to leave, we will, but I think the problem is resolved for now." Blood runs down the Regent's lip for now, seemingly unnoticed.
Lucienne takes a long draw from the cup Justin hands her, allowing her brother to guide her as he sees fit while she drinks. And then drink again. And then mutters: "Gods." And then Anais shows up! Luci swallows and sends a look over her shoulder at the mess of Naylands, and shrugs lightly. "Idiocy," she declares.
Rowenna takes a deep breath in through her nose, rubbing her knuckles. She glowers darkly at Rafferdy a moment more, then turns and drops a deep, low — and entirely proper, for the lulz — curtsy to Hosteen Frey. "My lord. Please convey my apologies to your father. We have remembered ourselves indeed. There will be no more trouble."
Justin is not the least bit disturbed by the outbreak of violence but he did get protective of his little sister, looking out for Lucienne. He smiles at Anais as she joins them, "A little family infeuding, it would appear. They are stepping out." As if it was nothing really. It's poor Lucienne who's shaken.
As it appears the excitement has begun to pitter out, Saffron turns her attention back to the close gathering of Lords and Ladies. "Well… I suppose no tournament is finished without a touch of drama and grain for the rumor mill." She watches as Jarod tries to draw his wife out, and she nods her head gently toward them in a greeting she was unable to give before things, well, exploded. Her gaze shifts over toward Justin and then Lucienne, and she nods a bit at her declaration. "Passion tends to create temporary idiots," she says softly.
"Still there," Martyn replies to the question about the finger. "It was feeling like it wasn't though." There's a brief pause as he looks around the room. "These kind of events always scares me more than battles," he admits, a bit quietly.
Artur doesn't dally, the Frey bannerman are here to round them up so he's just going to head back to the rest of the party, draining his current glass of wine, grabbing another and drinking that one, then finally grabbing a third, this one he sips from and then continues walking towards his other kin. "Well…And I thought we had our bad moments, everyone okay?" Obviously Luci is not and that is inexcusable, "I'm sure it'll be fine Luci. Justin and I are here, so you'll be safe." Then to Anais, "And you Ani?" He has named her, leave him alone.
Jarod does offer a bow Lord Frey before leaving, though that's still plainly his intention. This one's stiffer, with no mummer's show flourish. "My Lord Frey, you have my deepest apologies for any embarrassment that might've been caused to your party. I assure you, my lady wife intended no disrespect to your household or your other guests, or any disregard for your hospitality." The apology is given in a clipped, pointed tone that may not be aimed entirely at the Freys.
Rafferdy makes his way in a rather straight line to Katrin. When he reaches her, he bows, his disheveled hair flopping about as he does. He then smiles at her, through a swelling jaw and darkening eye. "My Lady. Would you care to dance?" he asks, as if nothing else has happened this evening.
"That's a bit embarrassing for them, isn't it?" Anais observes, making the understatement of the evening. "Lord Artur," she smiles warmly to the man, rising up on her toes to brush a kiss to his cheek. "I'm well, thank you. The dance floor served as a more than adequate buffer for anything unruly. I hope they didn't get blood on anyone's dress, though," she muses, looking around at those who were closer.
Hosteen hesitates a moment, as if unsure how to handle the Naylands turning around and making nice. Then he frowns. "It doesn't matter that you're sorry now," he says to Rowenna and Riordan. "I'm sure the commoners will take you." He glances off to where Rafferdy has headed. "And take him with you before I have to ask again."
Rowenna sighs, allowing her husband to lead her from the Grand Hall. Apparently she's in for a tongue lashing, having 'remembered' her nobility or not.
Saffron glances toward Katrin with a slight raise of her coppery brows. She glances as casually as possible toward Rafferdy before she involves herself idly with the goblet of wine she has been walking around with. It is almost too empty to really be worth nursing, so she catches the attention of a cupbearer and gets it filled. Now she can nurse happily on it even as she stands on the sidelines.
Kittridge smiles to Tiaryn and agrees, "One can only hope. They seem to be under control now, at least," he says, eyeing the Nayland contingent with another chuckle and a shake of his head. "At least Ser Rutger was not involved," he remarks, leading Tiaryn the rest of the short way to the floor so that they might dance. "Did you have a chance to watch any of the events this week, lady?" he inquires as they begin.
Rosanna just kind of stares at Rafferdy as he approaches and asks Katrin to dance. "You've hardly done anything to recommend yourself to any lady here tonight, my lord," she says a bit archly.
Jarod is just tight-jawed and quiet as he slinks out with punchy lady. Though he does spare another glare at Rafferdy. At least a majority of his ire is aimed in that direction. Well, a plurality, at least.
Kamron gestures back to his left shoulder, "It's a golden ticket to not having to dance. You should get yourself one." he gestures over his shoulder toward the Naylands, "Ser Riordan might be getting one too. You should get in while they're still cheap. They're going to be all the rage amongst real fighting men." He turns away from the now-stopped fight, looking out over the dance floor.
And here Justin had just said to Lucienne last evening that the Naylands weren't the disrespectable ones they used to be. Perhaps he was wrong about that, yet. If he is, he doesn't seem to care about a little brawling. He obtains another glass of wine for himself and sips lightly of it, watching Lucienne to see if she's quieting.
"Lord Rafferdy," Katrin says at his abrupt appearance. "Is everything well?" Her gaze flickers towards where the Nayland party was just standing. She clears her throat, looking at Rosanna and Saffron. "Have you met the Ladies Grove and Banefort?" Her cheeks are flushed a pretty pink. "But I would be pleased to dance."
"It's entirely inappropriate," Lucienne agrees judgily on the heels of Anais' understatement. Rather than shaken, she seems annoyed - and Artur's comment sees a swift and skeptical rise of her brows. In contrast, the words accompanying that expression are at least warm: "And for that I thankyou, my good lord uncle. Meanwhile, we all must needs talk, and promptly. I spoke with the Lord Kittridge earlier, and it has become rather apparent that we need to act swiftly on the matter of that harvest."
"Of course," Riordan says, simply. He glances back to Rowenna and Jarod, and seeing them go, makes his way towards where Rafferdy is. On his way, he stops by the Terrick group, pausing long enough to wipe away the blood on his mouth with the back of his fist before approaching them. "Lady Lucienne, I am afraid I will have to speak with you another time. I hope you will seek me out before you depart, however." He offers her a polite smile, and a bow. "Lady Anais, I also apologize that I will not have the oppurtunity to crush your toes tonight." He gives her a grin, despite all that has happened, and then offers the others a brief greeting and apology, before approaching Rafferdy. "Let's go, brother, or I'm leaving you for the guards."
Tiaryn just takes a breath, bringing her attention back to her dance partner politely, as they arrive and the music starts them up. A reel was it? And not a stately pavanne. Well, she's game and light on her feet. "It is a shame that anyone was involved so at a dance," Tia says, but she's then more than willing to change the subject. "I did indeed. I was present to watch both the jousting and the melee, and both were quite exciting to watch, although there were no Flints participating."
Justin quietly snakes out his free hand to lightly take Lucienne's arm, keeping his voice down, "This is not the place to discuss that, dear sister. Do -we- need step out as well?"
"Lord, I believe they want you," Saffron finally speaks up after Rosanna's own comment, gesturing with her goblet toward the Frey bannermen. She is smiling, but it is without her dimples. Then she begins to sidestep as casually as she can toward where the Mallisters are standing as if she is wondering if another fight might break out here.
Saethwyr watches as the fighting is broken up and those responsible are dealt with. Yet his dark gaze turns to the dance floor, looking over those who are seeking to rekindle the merriment of the evening. He catches the attention of a passing cupbearer, earning a refill to his glass of wine, and then he lifts it to take a sip. It would seem that he remains just off the dance floor, watching whilst enjoying his wine.
Rafferdy offers to Rosanna gently, "Then I suppose you're lucky it wasn't you I asked." Then he smiles widely as he looks back at Katrin and nods, "Everything's perfect." Then he glances over his shoulder at the angry Hosteen, and looks back at Katrin, a coy smirk now on his face. "I hope you don't mind if we take it outside to the square?" He gives a little shrug, "They have better music out there." He gives her a little wink, and extends his arm to lead her out.
"I actually have two of those, both working," Martyn deadpans to Kamron before he looks around for a few moments, raising an eyebrow as he looks to Rafferdy and Katrin for a few moments. "Seems like a good idea for something to drink," he mutters to himself, moving to get hold of some wine or something like that. When he's found what he was looking for, he moves closer to the dance floor, although he doesn't fully approach it. Just watching the happenings and taking a sip from his wine now.
Anais turns a briefly sympathetic look on Riordan as he's asked to leave, but she doesn't interfere. Not with Freys, at least. Instead, she looks to Lucienne and Justin for a moment, then over the crowd with a slow smile. "Would you two excuse me for /just/ a moment?" she asks, then wheels off before they have a chance to answer, headed straight for Saffron. This really can't bode well for anyone.
Rosanna gives Katrin a bit of a look, brows arching to see if she'll accept Rafferdy's offer.
"I wouldn't dream of dragging you from such a lively party, brother," Lucienne returns acidly to Justin, with a smile so sweet in contrast that it must be believed. "Perhaps we might dance, if the music allows. I did ask the lord of Groves to save me one, too." She chases that statement with a long sip of wine, ignoring Riordan's comments (sorry) and batting her free hand gaily as Anais excuses herself.
Kamron nods to Martyn, "But yours are both still working." He watches the gathering of Terricks, frowning just a little bit and nodding over towards them, "Do you think we should join them?" He glances aside as Saffron starts sidling over toward he and Martyn, inclining his head, "Lady Saffron. That is a delightful new dress. You must have had all the seamstresses in Stonebridge working on these lovely dresses to flatter you — unless some of these you brought from the Banefort, of course."
Riordan doesn't bother to wait to see the outcome of Rafferdy's decisions. He gave his warning, and now he clearly intends to leave the party. He will make his excuses and apologies as he does so, and despite his split lip, still manages to bring smiles from a few faces with his jokes, quips, and overall just general warmth.
Katrin dips down into a curtsey before Riordan as a way to delay answering the question. "Ser Riordan," she murmurs politely. Well that doesn't take up as much time as she was hoping for. She looks at Rosanna, nibbling on her lower lip before she seems to make her decision and smiles up at Rafferdy and does take his arm. "That sounds lovely, Lord Rafferdy," she says.
Artur shrugs lightly at Luci, "Harvest? I'm afraid at the moment I can't connect the dots. But I agree that if you want to discuss that we should leave the party. I do not mind discussing it with you of course, but if is in regards to the Roost, we likely can't make a decision without Jerold."
Rafferdy smiles once more as she takes his arm and he ignores his brother. He nods to Rosanna and the others around them, and then leads Katrin out.
There is a strange buzz in the air — Saffron has felt that buzz before. Even as she replies to Kamron's compliment with a laugh, she swears she knows where she's felt that buzzing feeling before. Back when she was a child, back at the Banefort. "Thank you, Ser Kamron… and no, this one is also new. As much as I would love to take complete credit for inspiring my seamstress' work, Mistress Morla puts the fear of the Seven in her more than I. You should see the way —" And then it dawns on her, and she turns rightly to see Anais Terrick nee Banefort on an intercepting path straight for her.
Justin most certainly removes his hand from Lucienne's arm at her unexpected acidity. He watches her cooly in return and sips his wine, unruffled. After a pause he asks faintly incredulously, "You wish to dance with me? I hope your slippers are steel, dear sister." But Justin smiles, "I can try, if you'll have me. I'm sure Lord Kittridge will be a better dancing partner."
Rosanna does not nod in return to Rafferdy. She levels a supremely judgey look on Katrin before lifting her chin with a sniff and turning to find someone else to talk to. Oh look! A familiar face she hasn't seen in a while. "Lady Lucienne!" she greets her cheerfully. "It's been so long." She dips in a curtsy to Justin as well. "Lord Justin."
"Much less painful that way," Martyn remarks to Kamron, before he offers a smile in Saffron's direction as well. "Lady Saffron," he offers. "Looking wonderful, as always." Pausing a little as he sees Anais heading over, he goes quiet again, taking a sip from his wine. This can't be too good, right?
You know who is here and not causing a ruckus? Roslyn, dressed in the same emerald-bright green that still seems to be missing its adornment, is in a corner, looking very torn. She does not draw further attention to herself, instead sipping on her wine carefully. Hiding, maybe, behind it.
Oh, how convenient. Saffron and Kamron are already right next to each other! Anais beams at her cousin - and it's the sort of smile Saffron knows well enough to fear - before turning that smile on the Mallister knight. "Good evening, Saffron. My lords," she says cheerfully, taking a moment to tuck a few loose curls back into place, dislodged by active dancing. "Lovely party, isn't it? I haven't seen this many minstrels and dancers in…Well, /ever/, frankly. This is what I expected when we rode off for the Riverlands. But Saffron, I haven't seen you take a turn, yet. And that dress is /made/ for dancing." Last chance for escape…
Kittridge agrees, "It is a shame. Not very appropriate behavior. You'd think you could expect better, but." He shrugs. "Who knows." He's a good dancer, light on his feet, familiar with the steps, and seeming to genuinely enjoy the activity, unlike so many men. "I am glad you enjoyed them," he smiles to Tiaryn, "I have to admit, I enjoy jousting, but I find tourneys most fun to watch, most of the time. A shame none of your kin chose to participate. Are there many about, now? I don't think I've seen them since we returned from the Isles, I assume they went home to the Finger?"
"The only way to improve is with practice, Justin," says Lucienne, far more mildly than before. She even cracks a smile, timed perfectly for the little Groves girl's entrance. "My Lady Rosanna! What a delight to see you again. I was most disappointed to hear I'd missed a Groves visit to the Roost." Ditching her near-empty goblet on the tray of a passing server, Lucienne grabs her skirts and sketches out a polite curtsy too. "Have you enjoyed the tourney, my lady?"
Kamron nods his head at Saffron's words, "I do quite know how inspiring Mistress Morla can be, Lady Saffron." He looks past Saffron to the approaching Anais, bowing his head, "Lady Anais. You look positively radiant dancing out there. I think you are quite made for the dance floor." See? he compliments Baneforts of all sorts, so people need to stop getting ideas.
"Oh, it's been wonderful. You know, Lord Rutger was carrying my favor when he won the melee," Rosanna says with a certain smug pride. Then, in a lower voice, she adds, "Can you believe that Lady Katrin Haigh left to dance with Lord Rafferdy? I'd certainly never go out with him after that display."
Saffron narrows her eyes just a bit at her cousin, full of suspicion. "It is a lovely party," she agrees carefully, "I was intended to dance with Lord Walden, but he let the drink get the best of him. I had been promised a dance by Ser Kittridge Groves, so obviously my turn is being allotted for." That's right! She's not denying the opportunity to dance. So, yes. People need to stop getting ideas.
His own refreshed wine glass in hand, Justin slightly more than half bows, though not quite a true formal courtly bow since this is only a dance, "Good evening, Lady Rosanna. You are a refreshing flower in the face of recently departed distractions. I hope your evening isn't spoiled by the transgression. Have you enjoyed the tourney so far?" There is a flicker of amusement for his sister from Justin before he adds low, "Yes, I suppose I'm in training for other things these days, aren't I?" Alas, he hasn't seen Roslyn here tonight, though Justin once more looks for her.
Tia is quite familiar with the steps as well, moving appropriately and following Kit's lead gracefully. She does appear to be having fun out there on the dance floor. There's a happy look on her face, as she chats with Kittridge, but it's brought entirely by getting the opportunity to dance. "Lord Anders is here, as is his wife Lady Cordelya and of course their retainers. But - Lady Cordelya is in a delicate way and so Anders is somewhat protective of his wife at this time," she says. "My good cousin Einar did go back to Flint's Finger, but he will be returning." She thinks for a moment, and then says, "You took part in the tourney, I think. Did you have fun?"
<FS3> Justin rolls Alertness: Good Success.
"I do enjoy dancing," Anais smiles swiftly at Kamron. "But then, so does Saffron. Of course, since she isn't wed yet, she really must be more careful about who she partners than I can afford to be. Lord Kittridge is an excellent dancer," she adds to Saffron. "Which is why his card is so full tonight, I'm sure. But I think it would be entirely appropriate if you were to dance with, say, Ser Kamron," she adds, turning her highest wattage dimpled innocent smile on the pair. "Really, it would be the /perfect/ way to demonstrate the growing strength of peace in the Riverlands, with you courting a Frey. And look," she continues, "They're moving into a nice slow song, so it shouldn't pain Lord Kamron much."
For once, Roslyn is avoiding Rosanna on spotting her, perhaps knowing already the lady's habit of gossip and wanting to avoid it so soon after her family's display. Her own attention seems to be on Kittridge and Tiaryn for a moment as they take the floor, but then she's moving a bit from her corner to—find another glass of wine.
Martyn keeps quiet and sipping his wine for the moment now. Hoping all thise talk of dancing just passes by him at the moment. Turning to look around a bit thoughtfully now.
Artur is being left again, such is life. Ignoring most of the movements of everyone else he goes to find himself a nice table. He could go save Anais, since she obviously wants to go, but he won't, because it's fun being troll uncle. The old man plops himself down at a table and leans back, simply enjoying watching everyone and drinking his wine. Now if only he had a … wait, what is thi? A cane! He grabs it and sits it across his lap, now he's posh old.
"So I had heard," smiles Lucienne, making conversation with Rosanna. "I'm almost sorry I missed it, my lady. I heard the lord Rutger fought remarkably well." And since her brother is all making eyes around for Lady Roslyn, she leans a little closer to the younger girl to gossip briefly, in a low voice: "Scandalous. Those kinds of decisions will earn a lady a reputation."
Brought entirely by the opportunity to dance, and not at all by her talented and friendly partner? That's just cold, Tiaryn. COLD. Kittridge, having no idea, smiles in return and says, "Are they? I hadn't realized. You will have to pass along my congratulations, then, to Lord Anders and his wife. A shame Lord Einar isn't about, I met him on the Isles and should have liked to speak with him again. And yes," he smiles once again at the question, pausing his answer to spin Tiaryn briefly as the steps require, "I did get the chance to joust, and enjoyed it. It is always fun to win, after all."
Kamron is all smiles until Anais links himself and Saffron in the suggestion to dance, and then he narrows his eyes in suspicion, "You do know what a dislocated shoulder is, don't you, Lady Terrick? It's the thing that keeps you from using one arm entirely, which rather makes it difficult to dance." He bows his head to the Banefort cousin, "Otherwise I could be quite clad to dance with you, Lady Saffron." Maybe there's a bit of self-deprecating embarrassment under the words. "It's beside the fact entirely that I've no skill at dancing what-so-ever, of course."
"Well, as my brother said, he was the last man standing on the field," Rosanna replies to Lucienne with a laugh. She lowers her voice as well, the better for gossiping. "Certainly everyone here will remember it, and pass on word." AKA be gossipy bitches like Rosanna. She doesn't quite laugh at the wording of Justin's compliment, but the dimple of her smile threatens it. "Thank you, Lord Justin," she says demurely. "That's very kind of you to say."
Whilst remaining on the sidelines of the dance floor, Saethwyr continues to enjoy his glass of wine. It's a pleasing vintage, after all. His attention wanders the dance floor, though more often than not ends up finding the pairing of Tiaryn and the man she's with. Not that his attention ever ends up lingering there, however, with all the other colours to catch his attention. It's not his fault he's always liked blue, really. Shifting his weight slightly, Saethwyr takes another sip of his wine.
Saffron meets her cousin's dimpled face with a look. Oh, Annie, you are a wicked fiend. A sudden warmth floods up her neck and about her ears, and while to most it would be a very ladylike pinking to Saffron it feels as if she is as red as strawberries. She turns her gaze toward Kamron with a slight tilt of her head, and she offers him a small smile that even then shows her dimples. "I would be gentle with you, Ser Kamron," the Banefort assures gently in response to his skill. Despite the honest logic behind Kamron's answer, there may be just the faintest touch of disappointment in those pale orbs.
Well, it's good to have friends? Tia smiles at Kittridge, eyes dancing. She spins then, and waits until she's back facing the man to say. "Oh yes, congratulations. You jousted very well!" Right. Champion. She did see that, just her brain went missing momentarily. Or her player's did. Sorry. And as for her partner, he's a lovely dancer, handsome man, and charming. What's not to like? Hey, he's far better than those kittens. So perhaps not just the dance, as her cheeks flush a little at her faux pas. But then the song comes to an end, a slower song starting up, and she offers a graceful and deep curtsey. "You are an accomplished dancer, Ser. It is a pleasure."
Also on the sidelines, Roslyn practically pounces on another singular person. Not really, she just approaches Saethwyr politely with a sweep of a curtsy, since they happen to be watching the same couple quite frequently. "I am sorry; I am in need of a refuge. Forgive my rudeness, but if you begin speaking with me, perhaps the Freys will forget that I am a Nayland," she murmurs lowly to the knight, wry humor in her words and a wince to her features.
Justin has indeed spotted Roslyn, wearing that same brilliant green gown she was wearing that day he strolled with her, isn't it? Or about the same shade, anyway. Lucienne is quite correct that he has become distracted for the moment. Justin tastes his wine as he watches Roslyn moving to get herself a glass. He glances back to Rosanna and yes, he's not really the best at flowery wordings, as she gathered. So he only gives her a smile and inclines his head faintly to her before he says low, "If you two will excuse me, I'll let you catch up. I'll be about if I'm wanted, Lucienne."
However, Justin extracts himself to start heading over to intercept Lady Roslyn.
"I do, actually," Anais assures Kamron with that same innocent smile. "I remember when I was…How old were we, Saffron? Ten? We went climbing on the cliffs near the Banefort. I overreached myself, and instead of letting go when I should have, I tried to hang on. Swung my shoulder right out of its socket. My father was beside himself. My mother, on the other hand, was of the impression that it might teach me a lesson I was clearly in sore need of, so she didn't exactly let me out of my dancing lessons the next few days. Actually, it wasn't so terrible." How's that, Kamron? Going to be shown up by a ten-year-old girl? "And really, Saffron is an excellent dancer, and there aren't any tosses in this one. Just nice, stately steps."
Still keeping quiet at the talk nearby about dancing, Martyn looks like he would make a comment after Kamron's words, but decides against it. Sipping more of his wine as he turns to look around the room, there's a grimace while mid-sip, and some coughing now. He takes a few steps backwards, hoping he doesn't collide with anyone, as he tries to recover his breath. And his dignity, it would seem.
"It must have been your favour," Lucienne returns, echoing Rosanna's laugh. But, you know, because she is being sincere and not at all mocking because they are FRIENDS and not SCANDALOUS like some ladies, it is a very polite echoed laugh. "I'll be sure to find you," Luci tells Justin, sending her brother off with a little wave. "I do believe he's smitten," she comments to Rosanna once the Terrick is out of earshot, with a long sigh.
Kittridge smiles at Tiaryn, and if he noticed that she forgot his victory in the joust, he doesn't show it. "Thank you!" he replies, "It was a good time. Though while I know only one pass is a cleaner victory, I prefer longer bouts, I have to admit. More exciting, don't you think? Ser Riordan and Ser Kell were the best show of the day, I thought." As the music changes, he bows to his partner and replies, "As are you, lady. Thank you for the opportunity! Now," he says, offering his arm and looking back at the crowd, "To whom should I return you? Any preference?"
"Really?" Rosanna says to Lucienne, brows arching as she glances off at Justin where he sneaks off. "With whom?"
The Charlton Knight brings his dark-eyed gaze to Roslyn, and he sketches a bow to her, mindful not to spill his wine. "Ah, my Lady, there is no need for forgiveness to be given. But it is yours if you feel a need for it," Saethwyr offers, a smile coming to his features. "Not all apples of a tree are the same," he adds in a gentle tone, understanding touching his voice. He did, after all, witness the fuss that abounded earlier. He lifts his glass of wine, glancing briefly towards the form of Justin approaching, though his attention returns to Lady Roslyn standing near.
"I did think Ser Riordan and Ser Kell were the best show, but there were a couple bouts that were close seconds, your own included," Tia replies. She pauses, offering a bright smile, and then she suggests, "Perhaps over with the Mallisters and Lady Anais?" she suggests, a hint of mischief showing on her face. "Or - well, you may feel free to surprise me, Ser, if you wish. I shall place myself at your mercy."
"Only the same color, ser," Lady Roslyn muses, her finger lifting to tap at her very Nayland nose in a gesture before she notes his tip towards Justin. Her own gaze slides over and she offers an immediately warm smile towards the Terrick, dropping in another practiced curtsey towards Justin. "My Lord Justin, good evening."
Kamron bows his head to Anais' correction, "I stand corrected, Lady Terrick." He looks over to Martyn, arching an eyebrow, "You're not going to die at a Frey feast, are you, coz? That would be most embarrassing." He sighs softly, looking back to Saffron, "Before your Lady Cousin does her best to shame me with stories of how thoroughly brave and resistant to pain she was at the age of ten, I suppose I had best ask if you would be willing to be gentle and dance with a one-armed man?"
Lucienne gestures after her brother in response to Rosanna. "The Lady Nayland," she replies simply, then looks about for another server that she might claim a drink from.
Ah, and there Roslyn turns and makes a graceful curtsey to himself. Justin can't help but faintly smile in reply to her own before he stops and sketches a deep bow of his own, a more formal one than he would otherwise normally bother with, "A very good evening unto you, Lady Roslyn. You look much refreshed from what recently illed you. I hope you are fully recovered?" There is a slip of his gaze briefly in Kittridge's direction, then back to her, Justin not having missed where her gaze had been directed when he first spotted her.
Saffron glances over toward Anais as she launches into her story, and her expression mixes with confusion and strained memory. It is then she remembers the event with the tree, but she recalls it not being Anais who had swung out her shoulder, but one of her brothers. She isn't about to out her cousin though even as Kamron speaks his invitation, and she offers a small laugh. "I can safely say I have never danced with a one-armed man before, but there is a first time for everything." She steps around the knight so she can be at his right, and she offers her hand up to him. Once they start for the dance floor, she does still cast a glance over her shoulder to Anais with a slight narrowing of her eyes. At least she's still smiling!
"Oh," Rosanna says with some hint of surprise, glancing over at Justin and Roslyn once more. "Rather strange, considering your families."
"Oh, excellent," Anais beams as Kamron invites Saffron to dance. "I'll just go and get some wine to help with your shoulder when you get back." And, mischief managed, she trots off to join Artur at his table, rather pleased with herself.
"No, cousin. Not going to die…" Martyn replies, in between a few deep breaths. "Moved a bit too fast…" He glances towards some of the nearest Freys for a few moments, then back to Kamron, "Not going to give them the satisfaction," he mutters. "Go have fun dancing, both of you…"
Kittridge laughs and smiles at Tiaryn as he replies, "You are kind to say so, lady." He turns to locate Anais and the Mallisters as lady Flint names them, and then chuckles, "Surprise you? Very well, I will do my best," he agrees. He spends another moment considering, and then turns to lead the way towards where Lucienne and Rosanna stand. "Not very surprising, all things considered," he admits to Tiaryn, "I went a bit blank, I'm afraid, you'll have to forgive me. Lady Lucienne, Rosanna," he greets them.
Saethwyr quirks a smile to her words, and then he inclines his head to her. "Indeed," he agrees, his tone thoughtful. His attention shifts to Justin, and he gives a slight bow to the man. "Good evening," he offers by way of greeting. Then he falls quiet for the time being, lifting his glass to take another sip of his wine.
Tiaryn has to laugh as she is brought over to Kittridge's sister and the Lady Lucienne. She offers a polite curtsey as she smiles at Rosanna once more. "Thank you, Lord Kittridge, this works admirably. Ladies, it is good to see you." She smiles briefly, glancing over at Lucienne, sympathy on her face for a brief moment.
Humor lingers in the curve of Roslyn's smile, her gaze not turning towards Kittridge even where Justin's does. Instead, she focuses on the lords near her, answering warmly, "The Maesters say so, my lord, but I believe the good sers attending do not trust it. I've not been asked to dance, and surely that is the reason." To Saethwyr, she explains in a sidenote of inclusion, "I came down with a cold, before the tourney. It was rather inconveniently timed."
Lucienne's brows shift upwards at Rosanna's reply, and she reaches out to snag a goblet. Yoink! "Mhmmm," she murmurs back to the lady Groves, and is about to add something further when Tiaryn and Kittridge arrive. "My lord, my lady," she says instead, dipping a polite curtsy as courtesy dictates. "Enjoying the festivities, I trust?" Tiaryn's flash of sympathy is noted, and Luci's lashes fall briefly to her cheeks in response.
Artur looks over at Anais and snickers, "Done tricking them into dancing so you can avoid it?" Then he sips the wine, "You never knew Jerold's parents, but always told him you took after his father. He was quick witted little…er, wait that's not appropriate." Then a chuckle as he sips more wine, "But join me Ani, it's a good night."
"Hello again, Lady Tiaryn," Rosanna greets with another flash of smile. "Did you see Lady Katrin go out to dance with Lord Rafferdy? To the Town Square. With the commoners. Can you believe it?"
Kamron looks over his shoulder as he offers out his good right arm to Saffron, "Why don't you ask the Lady Terrick to dance, coz?" Because he's certainly not going to be the only one who needs his partner to make him look like something beyond a spaz on the dance floor. Turning back to Saffron, he keeps his voice low, "You realize that I don't know anything more than how to take small steps vaguely in time with the music, right Lady Saffron? If you want anything more fancy than that, you're going to have to lead the way yourself." Getting out to the dance floor, he turns to face the Banefort, bowing formally and straightening again with a slight grimace of pain.
"Lord Charlton," Justin returns the slight bow with greeting of his own to Saeythwyr, "I do believe I saw you partaking in the melee. How did you do? I had heard, for I departed early, that it came down in the end to Ser Hardwicke against Ser Rutger, the latter whom was the victor?"
Justin lifts a dark brow at Roslyn's reply as he tastes his wine once more. Lowering it, he quietly adds, "I would be very pleaased to dance with you, Lady Roslyn. If my former attempt at Lady Rosanna's Naming Day party did not convince you to stay clear of my feet." Justin looks like he could stand to ditch his wine if she accepts. Maybe Saethwyr would like to hold three goblets instead of one?
"So I can avoid it?" Anais echoes, arching a brow at Artur with a swift smile. "Hardly. But Saffron's been a bit down the last few days, and I know what it's like when your hand belongs to someone who, for whatever reason, can't dance with you. It will do the both of them good." She does keep good on her word, claiming three glasses of wine from a servant who passes by and taking one for herself as she guards the others. "/I/ take after Lord Jerold's father, though?" she asks with some amusement.
Blink. Tia's look is obviously startled at Rosanna's words. "She did? No, I can't say I noticed as I was entirely distracted by my dance partner." She looks concerned at the thought and then she shrugs. "I do hope she will be okay," she says, with a little frown. She copies Lucienne's very clever maneuver to yoink a drink of her own, sipping at it delicately. "Lady Lucienne, it is good to see you out." That's all she says, with a gentle smile for the Lady Terrick.
Artur nods, "You do, but that's another story for another time dear." There's a laugh, "I see, well at least you care. I'm glad to see you taking steps to get them together." He raises brow at the wine, "Going to enjoy ourselves tonight are we niece? Be careful with the wine, I may not want to carry you back to Stonebridge."
Saffron is lead by the one-armed Mallister, and at his whispering words, she cannot help but laugh. "She gives his arm a gentle squeeze before they turn to face each other. "Simple and easy, Ser Kamron, that I swear." Once the bow is given, and curtsey returned, Saffron steps a bit closer and places her left hand on his right shoulder so he may have access to her back. With his other hand tied up at his side, she gently loops that arm behind her back so they can be at the very least equal. She meets his eyes and tilts her head. "You don't even have to lead," she says softly with a small dimpling and then off they go.
<FS3> Kamron rolls Dancing + Reaction: Failure.
Saethwyr ah's softly, and then he gives a small nod to Roslyn. "I had heard something of that, when watching the jousting," he comments, a thoughtful note to his voice. "It is good to hear that you're feeling better," he adds, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. His attention turns to Justin, and he raises an eyebrow slightly. "Ah, alas, it seems my luck led me to the middle of the pack or so. Not my best showing. I had heard it came down to those two, but didn't see it myself," he replies.
<FS3> Saffron rolls Dancing: Great Success.
"She did," Rosanna confirms to Tiaryn, all gossip-confident. "I was right there. I can't imagine what would lead me to accept such an offer after the display they made."
"These," Anais laughs to Artur, gesturing to the other two glasses, "Are to reward them when they come back. So that even if they're both terrible, they'll remember the nice wine they had afterwards, at least." In other words, she's trying to condition them to dance. "This one is for me, though," she admits, cradling her own glass between her fingers in quiet contentment. "I'll eat a bit more before I go, as well, to balance it out."
"I certainly hope she's not banking Lord Rafferdy protecting her should the mob turn violent," adds Lucienne, shaking her head wistfully after Rosanna's comments. "Thankyou, my lady Tiaryn. And you, of course - how does the Lord Kittridge fare on the dancefloor, may I enquire? I begged a dance of him earlier today, and am still hoping that it was a wise move." Dark eyes dart toward Kittridge with a glint over the top of her goblet as Lucienne takes a sip.
"I would be pleased to dance with you, my lord," Roslyn admits quietly. She does not burden Saethwyr with more than a smile, silent thanks for his help, before she sets her drink on a passing tray and moves to accept Justin's arm. "If you will excuse us, ser?" she questions to the Charlton knight.
Martyn is about to take another sip from his wine when he hears Kamron's suggestion, and he comes to a bit of a stop where he stands, looking over in the direction of his dancing one-armed bandi… cousin. He doesn't move much for a few moments, before he slowly lowers his goblet again, but takes a few more moments before he speaks. "Do you truly want her to risk her feet, cousin…?" he offers, a bit quietly.
Kamron loops his right arm around to the back of Saffron's rib cage, drawing in a deep breath, and then steps into the pattern of the music. He doesn't step on Saffron's feet, but it's a near thing. He cannot lead her back away from him, and only so many steps have her stepping toward him. He stumbles now and then, but the flare and grace of his partner makes up for it. Still, a bit of redness begins to creep up his neck. Out on the dance floor, he cannot hear Martyn's response, and that's probably a good thing.
The wine, though his glass was nearly full, is finished off. Justin sets the goblet down on a table when Roslyn moves to take his arm which he freely gives her. Thankfully it's a pretty tame dance that has started, nothing too flashy for it is not only Ser Kamron who needs to go easy while learning how to do it. Justin likewise gives Saethwyr a nod for parting before he draws Lady Roslyn out onto the floor with him, "Will you show me the steps again? I am not ashamed to learn, and you know you have my gratitude for your patience, Lady Roslyn." Justin keeps his voice quite low, not really paying anyone else in the room his attention other than Roslyn.
Saethwyr inclines his head towards Roslyn, a smile coming to his features. "By all means, my Lady," he says softly. He's content to remain, as Artur put it, as a lurker. At least for the time being. And so, he takes another sip of his wine and will watch for a moment as Roslyn is led away by Justin.
"It was a very wise move, Lady Lucienne. He is a marvelous dancer," Tia says with a glance over at Kittridge. She frowns again, still a bit worried about Katrin, but not so sure that she should do anything about it. She takes a sip of her wine, and nods slowly to Rosanna. "I am certain she did exactly as you said," she says. "And as to what must have possessed her, all I can surmise is that gentler emotions are those that lead us all to lunacy."
As promised, Saffron keeps their dance simple and, yes, graceful — even with his stumbles. The sight of the redness at his neck causes her to relax into a smile — she does not laugh, however. Instead, she leans in to whisper to him, "You are doing just fine, Ser Kamron… just keep your focus on me." And she guides them gently in the denoted square of space, taking a bit more lead with each passing collection of steps. Her leafy-green dress definitely helps distract from people criticizing his feet as it swirls about them.
Artur nods at Anais, "I see, well, I'll wait for you all. I'm going to head out, this is starting to get to me. I'm not a social person, never was." He stands, "Later Ani. Stay safe." And then he heads off towards the door
"Of course, my lord. As long as you are not ashamed, you are a better student for it," Roslyn advises with a quiet smile, placing her hands carefully and properly on Justin before she starts to try to guide him in the steps.
"Good evening, Lord Artur," Anais smiles after the older man, raising her glass in a quiet sort of salute. She's quite pleased to watch Kamron and Saffron dance.
Kittridge chuckles at Lucienne's question, and Tiaryn's reply, inclining his head to her in thanks. "You are too kind," he replies, "I am sure it was just the quality of my partner inspiring me to exceed my skills," he says, glancing at the ladies and their gossip before offering to Lucienne, "Would you let me claim that dance of yours now, lady?"
<FS3> Justin rolls Reaction: Failure.
<FS3> Roslyn rolls Dancing: Success.
"Well, I suppose she'll just have to live with everyone talking about her gentler emotions," Rosanna says in an airy voice, sounding terribly unapologetic of her gossip about poor, absent Katrin.
Kamron ducks his head slightly at Saffron's words, "Actually, I'm making a mess of it, Lady Saffron." The words are whispered, along with a little chuckle. He's silent as he murders his way through a turn, and then he continues in that murmur, "And with all due respect, My Lady, but focusing on you might be even more distracting than focusing on the music and not tramping on your toes."
"I am relieved to hear that, my lady," Lucienne tosses back airily to Tiaryn. She hides behind her goblet as she bites down on her lip to stifle a bit of a giggle at Rosanna's insistent gossiping, and is pleased to be distracted by Kittridge. "Most certainly, my lord," says the Terrick, shaking her glossy dark curls out and handing off her drink to a passer-by. Extending her hand to the knight, she bids him, "Lead the way."
Justin is, well, a little more nervous about this than he's letting on. He nods a little stiffly and draws a breath slowly to relax, because he can do this, right? Easier than swords practice, and he likes that kind of dance unless it's with Ser Hardwicke. And of course, Roslyn's good at this, moving effortlessly and Justin's looking down to try and follow what her feet are doing and what his feet should be doing and so, well, he's not really paying attention to where they are going. He bumps into someone else who's wine glass is knocked out of their hand. When it hits the floor, Justin tenses and for an instant, messing up his and Roslyn's timing. "Stranger's balls." Oops. He probably shouldn't say that infront of a lady!
Tia chuckles softly, not adding any further to the gossip. She does however, turn slightly so she can watch the dance floor. "You should go dance, Lady Lucienne. Please do. I'm certain that Lady Rosanna and I can hold up the wall for a bit." and then as Lucienne does just that, her smile turns pleased. Excellent. "And so, Lady Rosanna? What has been your favourite part of the tourney so far?" she asks, turning her attention to the young lady Groves.
"I do not think that the Stranger's balls tripped you, my lord," Roslyn replies lowly, keeping her inappropriate humor quiet. The pause to the dancing gives her a moment to notice the Lady Lucienne taking to the floor with Kittridge, and she turns back to Justin with a renewed smile. "Here, let me show you—." She places her hands again properly, moving them away from the glass to attempt to resume their dance.
"If you'll both excuse us," Kittridge says politely to Tiaryn and his sister, offering them a smile before finishing his wine and leading Lucienne out to the floor.
"Oh, the melee, I think," Rosanna answers Tiaryn with redirected attention. She flits a quick smile to Kittridge and Lucienne as they take to the dance floor. "It was my favored knight that won, after all. I should think that would have to be my favorite, hm?"
Having managed to finish the goblet of wine, Martyn places it on the nearest table, before he looks around for a few moments. Looking a bit thoughtful, as he seems to realize that his family probably would not let him get through this night without dancing with anyone, right? There's a moment his expression looks rather horrified of the thought, before he looks around, glancing towards the doors for a few moments as if debating if he should make a run for it, before he lets out a deep breath as he looks around the room. Taking a few moments more, before he slowly starts making his way over in Tiaryn's general direction.
"Am I not the judge if you are making a mess of things, Ser Kamron?" Saffron inquires in the same whispering tone as the two continue their strange, one-armed dancing. She is then blushing just a bit at the tips of her ears and apples of her cheeks. She holds his gaze for a long moment, before she drops the gaze away almost shyly. "I wouldn't want you to get further distracted… I might end up being the cause for even more injury," she points out idly as she guides them into a gentle turn that at least swirls her skirts up again.
Tia chuckles and nods to Rosanna. "I should suppose it would be. Ser Rutger asked for your favour, did he? How romantic." She nods to Kittridge and Luci as they head off, perfectly willing to let them go dance. Enjoy! Her gaze for a moment takes in the crowds, catching sight of Saethwyr lurking briefly, and then finding Ser Martyn as he approaches. She gives him a smile, thinking he's just wandering with the little kittens. "I think that although the jousting and the melee were quite exciting, I will say that dancing is my favourite part."
<FS3> Roslyn rolls Dancing: Good Success.
<FS3> Justin rolls Reaction: Good Success.
"I suppose so," Rosanna says carelessly in reference to Rutger's romanticism. "He is courting me, you know. It's only appropriate." She laughs at Tiaryn's favorite part of the tourney. "I did love seeing Kittridge as one of the final champions for the joust," she adds, warming with pride. "But I'm sure I would prefer the dancing to everything else were someone to ask me."
No, it's his own balls tripping him up so to speak. Trying a little too hard perhaps. Justin nods, tries to hide the smile Roslyn evokes with her very smooth rejoiner. She's leading and he's trying to follow, and trying not to be stiff as a board. But he's not blushing, not getting angry with himself, he's paying attention to what Roslyn is showing him. And as they continue, Justin starts to relax into it and follow her lead more easily, getting the hang of it better as they go. He glances up to her face often, a barely there smile easing his face, "Better? Obviously /you/ are a good dancer, Lady Roslyn." And maybe a good teacher, also.
"Or I have a good partner," Roslyn counters with a quick smile, before turning the conversation back to polite topics that touch on interests. It is smalltalk, but it is getting-to-know-each-other smalltalk. Eventually, she will even excuse herself to find her family, before she can be kicked out as well.
Kamron chuckles softly at Saffron's words, "You're too kind, Lady Saffron." He shuffles through the turn, awkward but not dangerous to himself or anyone. "I can get myself hurt quite well enough, My Lady. I don't think that your assistance will be needed." He might be relaxing, but it's not likely to be helping anything, given that he still only has one point of contact with his dance partner. As the song trails to a halt, he disengages slowly, stepping back and bowing once more and straightening up with a grimace of pain, "You blush quite prettily, Lady Saffron. It has quite the same effect as the brilliant dress you wore the other day."
Martyn pauses for a few moments at that smile from Tiaryn, before he makes the rest of the way over. "Lady Tiaryn," he offers, with a bit of a bow, before he offers a smile and the same kind of a bow to Rosanna. "I do not believe we've been introduced, my lady." Otherwise keeping quiet as dancing is something that can wait until introductions have been made, right?
Roslyn's dance partner seems to appreciate the 'getting-to-know-each-other' smalltalk so Justin is in no hurry to end their dancing lesson. When she is ready to depart to seek her family, he pauses to glance back at the others. His sister is dancing with Ser Kittridge, Kamron with Lady Saffron, and various others are mingling or dancing also. Justin offers his arm back to Roslyn once more, "Then please allow me to walk you out and see you returned safely unto them, Lady Roslyn. It is a party evening and the grounds may be rougher than usual with merriment." Of course he'll try to be the gentleman, and it makes for a good exit for himself. He's an early riser, as Justin had mentioned to Lucienne.
Tia - introduction queen. "Oh. Lord Martyn, allow me to present Lady Rosanna Groves," she says, with a warm smile. "And Lady Rosanna, this is Lord Ser Martyn Mallister." She sips at her wine, before she says, "It's good to see you, Lord Martyn. I trust you are not too badly injured from the tourney?"
And that's that. Saffron curtsies to his bow, even if she smile is a bit shallow with the knight's grimace. Then she shakes her head a bit, that pointed out blush only darkening at her freckled cheeks. "Again, you are too kind, Ser Kamron." She instinctively takes his arm again so they can step off the dance floor. She suggests with gesture alone that they head back to join Anais — after all, Saffron has to give her cousin an appropriate glare. As they begin to step, she looks over toward the knight. "Thank you," she says softly, "for the dance. Now I can say I have danced with a one-armed man."
"Lord Martyn, a pleasure to meet you," Rosanna greets the Mallister as she dips in a quick curtsy.
Anais is still sitting happily with her glass of wine and two in reserve for Saffron and Kamron, looking entirely too pleased with herself. But then, she's danced with just about every man in the hall, Hardwicke brought home the bacon, and got to eat several full meals. Really, things could be much worse.
Kamron tilts his head slightly to one side, "No… I think I'm just kind enough, Lady Saffron." He moves around so that he can offer out his right arm to escort the Banefort lady off the dance floor, guiding her back toward where Anais waits. "And thank you, Lady Saffron. You were very patient, and a very graceful dancer." As he approaches, he searches the hall — slowly getting less and less full as people get too drunk to remain upright or go find other, less savory, occupations — finally spotting Martyn. Snorting a laugh, he mutters, "Coward" under his breath, along with a chuckle. Approaching the Banefort-turned Terrick, he inclines his head again, "Happy, Lady Terrick? One of those had best be for me, and one for Lady Saffron. I'm sure that dancing with a one-armed man works up quite a thirst."
"They are indeed for both of you," Anais laughs to Kamron, setting her own glass down to hold one out to each of them. "And I am positively glowing with good cheer." And wine. And food. And dancing. But that's beside the point. Her smile even gentles a bit. "Thank you, Lord Kamron," she adds more genuinely. "I do appreciate it." And then she's grinning to Saffron, patting the seat next to herself. "Come and sit with me? I saw you with Rosanna over there. I'm sure she had something interesting to say about that little scuffle earlier."
Martyn smiles a little bit as the introductions are made. "A pleasure, Lady Rosanna," he offers, before he shrugs a little bit at Tiaryn's question, offering a bit of a half-smile, "At the joust, only my pride got broken, thankfully," he replies, before he adds, "I took some more damage at the melee, I must admit. Some hits to my hand broke my finger." The hand with the finger in question, all wrapped up, is lifted slightly, before he adds, "And one of those hits cracked a rib, but those things will heal, I'm sure." There's another brief pause, before he looks back to Tiaryn. "I was wondering, Lady Tiaryn, if you would care to dance, despite those injuries, and despite the fact that I am far from a good dancer?" At least he's honest about not being that good at dancing.
Apparently he's been absent so far from the wonderful evening, as Rutger seems to show no sign of embarrassment, as he eventually enters the grand hall, though he's not come from the main door as one normally would. Instead he is seen walking side by side with a younger man, both talking -though Rutger is not near as animated as the other. A shaking of hands, and the Nayland Lord takes time to survey the scene. Dressed in dark colours, with a flair of orange, nothing seems too unseemly. Infact for once Ser Rutger Nayland seems pleased to be at the Twins.
Rosanna actually laughs at Martyn's offer of Tiaryn, but not — in a mean-spirited fashion? "That is quite an offer you've made, ser," she says with a warm smile before her attention is caught by Rutger's entrance.
Tia blinks, and then she listens to the music for a moment. "It's another slow one. I think we can manage to dance without injuring you any further," she teases Martyn. "I would be quite pleased to dance with you." No matter how poorly Martyn has sold it, he's now officially asked a woman to dance. His doom is sealed. "If you will excuse us, Lady Rosanna?" she asks, pausing to wait on Rosanna's answer.
Saffron looks content as Kamron guides her off the dance floor and to the awaiting wine goblets. That contentedness is only about five minutes from being conflicted as she remembers she's at a Frey affair. That thought is probably what inspires her to drain half her cup a bit heedlessly even as Kamron speaks. She smiles over at him with a slight incline of her head. "You weren't all that terrible, Ser Kamron… I would request you save me another dance once your arm is better and I can compare better." Then she looks over to Anais with a slightly narrowed look as if promising that they will talk about thsi later!
"And it looks good on you," Inigo comments of Anais and her glowing good cheer as he extracts himself from some other conversation he was having. He spreads a wide smile around to those nearby, namely Kamron and Saffron. "Ladies, Ser," he greets more politely after jumping in on the conversation with a bow. "Surely it was not such a great hardship to have one dance with the Lady, Ser Kamron. I would say you performed admirably, considering your injuries. I hope you are fairing alright today." He is not nearly so banged up after the melee.
"Oh," Rosanna says, dragging her attention back to Tiaryn. "Of course, Lady Tiaryn. Do enjoy your dance."
Looking a bit less nervous as Tiaryn accepts his offer, Martyn offers a smile to both the ladies. "A good man once told me that honesty is important," he offers to them, a bit lightly. Stepping out onto the floor with his dancing partner now, hoping that he won't end up stepping on her toes or something like that.
Kamron takes up the offered goblet, raising it in thanks to Anais, and then takes a sip. He doesn't drink quite so much as Saffron, at least not in one gulp, instead offering out, "I'm happy to keep your cousin busy so that you can take a breath or two, Lady Terrick." His grin curls up at one corner, becoming quite amused with himself as he glances over to Saffron. He nods to the newcomer, "Ser Inigo. Glad to see that you made it." Adding to Saffron, "I wasn't all that good, either, Lady Saffron, although I will certainly be glad to give you a point of comparison once I am fully healed." The other knight's words draw another chuckle, "On the contrary, Ser Inigo, it was very enjoyable. Lady Saffron is a marvelous dancer and more than made up for my lack. And I'm doing alright, all things considered. I managed to dislocate my shoulder again. I wasn't even hit all that hard, just aggravated my injuries from the tilt. More embarrassed and disappointed than anything."
Anais doesn't seem the least bit intimidated by Saffron's looks. She's probably developed an immunity at this point. "Lord Inigo," she laughs as the man arrives, warm and welcoming. "I'm afraid I'm all out of wine to share, if you're just trying to sweeten me up for that." At Kamron's words, she chuckles, shaking her head and looking to Saffron. "I swear, Saffron, all of these men insisting they're terrible dancers. You'd think men who trained to use their bodies to avoid sharp steel could manage to avoid each other on a dance floor."
There's a glance over the room, and there eyes land over on where the Northern Lady, and where particularly one Rosanna Groves has herself squired away. There's a brief nod to nothing in particular, before the eldest of the Nayland bunch is moving his way on towards that collection of bodies-though upon his arrival Ser Martyn and Lady Flint are moving, and Lord Nayland merely raises his brows. "Lady Rosanna.." Rutger decides to greet instead of pressing after the others in flight. "I do hope your night is well. I am sorry if I have been delayed."
Rosanna does not look entirely surprised to turn back to find Rutger at her side, but there is a hint of a flush at his sudden proximity, respectful as it is. "Lord Rutger," she greets him with renewed warmth. "Well, it's certainly be eventful. Have you heard?" Her gaze darts about subtly to see if her septa is still absent — ah, but there she is, returned on the heels of her suitor. Drat.
A smile for Lord Rutger as he arrives, but Tiaryn turns her attention to her dance partne, appropriately, moving out to the dance floor with him. "Honesty is indeed a good policy, I've always found," she says with a hint of amusement. She is light on her feet, so Martyn's toes are not in danger. And she's got an ear for the tune as well, perhaps not surprisingly.
Saffron idly taps her fingers at her goblet, glancing over toward Inigo with a small smile coming to her lips. She inclines her head gently to the Vance knight. "Hello, ser," she says to him with a nod of her chin. Then she glances back toward Kamron, and she offers a broader smile and shake of her head. "Unless your mysterious Lady complains that her favor was wasted, I think you still did quite well." Now she looks back toward Anais, and she laughs. "Annie, you're forgetting my own father. He still has to have my mother twist his arm about to dance, and he always looks so sullen until he's actually dancing with her."
It is a respectful proximity to be sure, but still Rutger is indeed close. Or rather, closer. A grin remains on his face, though it merely falters a little when he spies Day over her shoulder. "Have I heard what My Lady?" Rutger asks in earnest, before the Lord-quick on his feet raises a brow. "That you are the fairest one here? Or that everyone has been begging to dance with you?"
Rosanna actually smirks a touch at poor Rutger's ignorance combined with his flattery. "Very pretty, but no," she says. "That one of your sisters and two of your brothers were removed from the party after having a public row."
"And you as well," Inigo replies to Kamron with a nod. "My compliments to the Lady Saffron, then, for making you look good. Hello." It's a friendly sort of tease with no hidden mockery in it. His expression goes sympathetic as Kamron explains his injuries. "Rough luck, that, though I suppose there are worse accidents. I cannot say I fared especially well myself, though I still have a face to speak of." There were more than a few busted-up faces at the end of that. "I do not need to be paid in wine to speak such truths, Lady Anais. You can have that free of charge." As to poorly dancing men he simply says, "Perhaps they are simply nervous when in the company of fine ladies."
Kamron laughs softly at Anais' words, gesturing out toward the dance floor, "I'll have you know that I managed very well not to run myself or Lady Saffron into anyone, Lady Terrick. And due to the lady's own skill, I even managed not to tread on her toes." He shrugs one shoulder helplessly, "Besides, usually I have a shield to put between me and the enemy, and I didn't think it knightly to use Lady Saffron so." Taking another sip of his wine, he glances over to Saffron, "Lady Ghost has let me know that she is not displeased with my showing. That doesn't mean that I'm not, nor that Lord Mallister will be." Looking over to Inigo, he chortles, "Careful how you talk, Ser Inigo, there have already been two faces busted up in this very hall tonight."
Looking a bit relieved that no toes seem to be in danger, Martyn smiles a bit. "Honesty is a good policy, yes. At least most of the time," he replies, before he adds, "I hope you have enjoyed the festivities here…" A brief grin, before he adds, "And that includes the ancient art of armored men beating up each other, of course…"
"I always thought he just didn't think it was manly," Anais waves off Saffron's objection. "Big tough master at arms, going all mushy on his itty bitty sweetheart of a wife. What is the guard going to think the next day when he shouts at them?" she teases, grin flashing. As Kamron brings up busted faces, she slants a glance toward Inigo, interested to see /his/ reaction to the tale.
Rutger is quiet at that for a moment. And there he is turning to motion for a servant to bring glasses. because after such news, one always needs wine. Licking his lips Rutger's grin falters a moment. "Oh?" yes, that is the best answer he can result beyond perhaps yelling FUCK, or some such word. "Do tell?" added once he's got his grip on stemware.
Tia chuckles softly, again happy to be on the dance floor with a gallant partner. She inclines her head to the question. "I have enjoyed myself greatly," she admits. "I found the jousting quite exciting to watch, particularly the match between Sers Kell and Riordan. And the melee was a grand thing, though I must admit I found it difficult to keep up with. And you? Apart from your injuries that is?"
"Well, first Lady Rowenna punched Lord Rafferdy — several times, I believe," Rosanna explains with the blithe animation of a true gossiper. "Then Lord Riordan tried to interject himself, and Lord Rafferdy punched him. And then Ser Hosteen made them all leave. It was quite dramatic."
Saffron cannot help but laugh at Anais's depiction of her parents, and she shakes her head a bit. "There is probably more truth to that then you know, Annie." Then she shakes her head a bit as she looks over toward Kamron. No more comforting words does she offer him, but she still gives him a dimpling smile that alights her eyes. She finally looks over toward the other knight once more. "I'm sorry, Ser… I'm certain I caught you name… its Ser Inigo?" She just has to make sure, plus maybe she can weasel a surname out of him as well for later keeping.
"Apart from the injuries, and the weather, I've enjoyed it very much," Martyn replies with a bit of a smile. "One of the highlights was when you played for us after the joust, of course. Listening to you play is always nice."
There is that smile faltering as Rowenna is mentioned. And down goes more wine, rather rapidly "Of course she would.." he mutters before there is a muted groan from Rutger, as another long sip is taken. "And of course he would.." and then his shoulders finally slump. "Well, that does make for a fuc-err. Fine evening." If he weren't trying to remain poised he would face palm. "I do hope that your evening wasn't spoiled by all of these shenanigans.."A glance down to Rosanna. "If so, allow me to apologize on behalf of my family."
"It would be bad taste to use a lady as a shield, yes," Inigo agrees with a quiet chuckle. Having actually witness the face-busting incident in question, he can speak to what he observed at any rate. "In that case, I will watch my words…and I will avoid the Naylands." The last is tacked on after a brief pause with a crooked smile. They /were/ the ones all throwing the punches. Seems easy enough to avoid getting hit that way. "Ser Inigo Vance," he replies to Saffron with a small bow. "One of Lord Jerold's nephews," he adds, in case the last name wasn't enough.
Oh, now that gets a bit of a blush from Tia, and she ducks her head. "Thank you," she says, now feeling quite content. Not only her dress but her harpistry have been complimented. It's got to be the best tourney so far. She continues to dance with Martyn, her skirts swirling as her feet move in the proper rhythm. "And you dance remarkably well for someone who decried himself as not very good."
"Well, I couldn't help but note how it would make your family look in front of my family," Rosanna says a touch archly before relenting to offer Rutger some more gossip. "Lord Rafferdy actually asked Lady Katrin Haigh to dance afterwards, and she actually went with him outside to where the commoners are celebrating." She shakes her head, as aghast as if this wasn't the twentieth time she's already shared this gossip tonight.
Kamron chuckles at Anais' words and Saffron's riposte. Inigo's reference to the Naylands is enough to convince him that the other knight has already heard the best gossip. Taking another sip of his wine, he grins a little crookedly, "So have you braved the dance floor yet, Ser Inigo? I have to admit, it's almost as daunting as starting down the lists for your first course. After all, if you dance well, you might catch some young Lady's eye, and then where would you be?"
"Dancing isn't the least bit embarrassing. After all, look at Lord Kittridge," Anais points out, nodding toward the dance floor. "A line of ladies practically around the keep just waiting for a chance with him. Just because he can dance. Study well," she winks to Kamron and Inigo alike. "You'll have your pick of the ladies that way."
"I do?" Martyn asks, his own cheeks turning a little red now. "I didn't know…" he begins, before he adds, "I tend to get a bit nervous when it comes to dancing." Another pause and a bit of a chuckle, "You will probably find it funny to know that I get more nervous when dancing than when facing someone about to hit me with a sword…"
It is then that Saffron realizes how right Rowenna was in her mention that Saffron will find family everywhere. "It is a pleasure to meet you proper then, Ser Inigo. I am, quite unfortunately," and she grins at Anais, "Lady Anais' cousin." She has finished off her wine now, and the warmth has spread through her and given the world slightly fuzzy edges. It is pleasant. She looks over toward Ser Kamron now, and she shakes her head with a soft scoff. "Besides that mystery Lady of yours, there might yet be one that you do wish would look your way, and then where will you be, Ser Kamron?"
And there is a faint tightening of his jaw. "I can only imagine what your brother must think of me, and let alone all of us now." he notes before he is passing the magically empty wine glass off to another servant. His eyes certainly searching out someone-anyone with a full glass. "I feel as if I should go find Ser Hosteen, and beg our pardons for such behavior.." which given his performance yesterday over many of those who carried his rumors far and wide, will be even a worse blow.
Paling visibly Rutger stiffens his back before glancing to Rosanna "How could I make amends to your family, Lady? Or to you.." the bit about Rafferdy doesn't seem to phase Rutger, nor does he comment on it.
"You do indeed," Tia assures Martyn, with a soft smile. She does chuckle a bit at his comment, before she replies, "I do find that a bit strange. I should think getting hit by a sword is more painful, is it not?" But by now the slow song is coming to an end, and the musicians are gearing up for a quick one. Tia sinks into a graceful curtsey, her eyes dancing. "Thank you for a lovely dance, Lord Martyn. Might I suggest retiring from the dance floor for some refreshments?"
"Braved implies that there is something to fear," Inigo replies to Kamron with a cheerful smile. "But no. I've had a remarkable amount of catching up to do with people from all over the Riverlands and even farther here." His smile widens into a grin as he winks back at Anais. "Ah, but you have not seen me dance, my lady. How do you know I need to study at all?" Laughing outright at Saffron's remark, he shakes his head before saying, "Unfortunately? You must be family." No one teases like family. "It is my pleasure, my lady." Something catches his curiosity. "A mystery Lady?"
Kamron shakes his head at Anais, "It's not embarrassing -if you can do it well-." He laughs softly, "My mother taught me the basic steps, but anything more than that was, I'm afraid, quite lost on me. It was -far- too interesting studying with the Master-at-Arms." His feet spread slightly, letting him sink his weight down a little into a bit of an opening axe-fighter's stance, "Now those are steps that come naturally." Straightening up again, he shakes his head, looking back to Saffron, "Well in that case, Lady Saffron, I shall undoubtedly have to learn to dance." Inigo's words draw a shake of his head, "You talk a good game, Ser Inigo. I've half a mind to wrestle you into asking Lady Terrick for a dance, so that you can prove your skills." Despite being the center of the talk of mystery ladies, he lets the women explain the matter, settling for another sip of his wine.
"Well, for myself, you may ask me to dance," Rosanna tells Rutger graciously. "I'm sure we can think of ways for you to better ingratiate yourself with my family."
"Unfortunately?" Anais protests Saffron's choice of words, though she grins, unable to put much force behind it. "Honestly, you'd think I was a bad influence, the way you say it." She looks to the men then, taking a sip of her wine before adding pointedly: "I'm not." Now, at least. Mostly.
Martyn bows at the end of the dance. "Thank you, Lady Tiaryn," he replies, before he offers a bit of a grin, "And the swords are more painful, that's true. But then again, we are usually better prepared to face the swords." He then nods a bit at the mention of the refreshments.
Rutger makes a mental note to find Ser Hosteen in order to properly apologize to their overlords for such behavior, but luckily-that time is not now. Instead there is a smile that comes onto the Nayland's lips before he bows towards Rosanna, graciously. "May I then have the honor of a dance?" or three? And when he comes back up he dazzles the smile back into place "I am sure we can."
At the complete lack of response to Inigo from Kamron, Saffron picks up the topic with ease. "I'm afraid I don't even know much about her, but Ser Kamron arrived at the tournament with a token from a mystery Lady whose name he won't share… with anyone. I swore I saw her the night before the melee though, talking with our dear Mallister here. White cloak and everything… a right Ghost. That's what we've been calling her… Lady Ghost." She then glances over toward Anais with a knowing grin.
Tia grins at Martyn, as they are back to where her drink is waiting. She collects it, as it still has some liquid in it, and then gives Martyn another curtsey as he moves off. "Gods keep you, Lord Martyn," she says with a smile. She's sort of bemused that he asked her to dance, all things considered. He didn't seem like the type to come out of lurking to her. But - apparently she was wrong. Now then, Lucienne has wandered off. Rosanna is with her courting Lord Rutger. And Anais is in a small crowd. For a moment, Tiaryn is by herself as she determines where to go next.
Thoughtfully, the Charlton Knight swirls the last of his wine in his cup before draining it. Why is it that being brave on the battlefield is so much easier than being brave in regards to a bloody dance floor? Saethwyr faintly shakes his head, then sits his empty cup on a passing server's tray. Then he starts to make his way over towards Lady Tiaryn, having never really stopped noticing where she was, though he was discreet about it. And she is, after all, all by herself.
As Rosanna takes Rutger's arm and allows him to lead her onto the dancefloor, she asks in a lower voice, "Would it be too bold of me to suggest that I would be quite pleased to see my family accept your suit for my hand, my lord?"
And lead he does. Rutger is at least at home there. A part of the board he knows he can maneuver well upon. Once suitably on the floor, one hand moves to Rosanna's waist, as he goes to lead her into the dance. Though there's a grin as he pauses in that moment. "Bold my lady?" his own voice lowered for the intimate conversation. "I would say, in the eyes of other ladies. Yes, bold." his grin blooming "But," as Rutger is quick to add. "Not unwelcome. Would I be bold, Lady for stating that it would please me greatly for the same thing?"
"More naturally for some than others," Inigo notes, tipping his head slightly to the side as Kamron sinks into a fighting stance. "I'm afraid you're in no condition to wrestle, ser, you'd lose and hurt yourself again in the process." His brows raise a bit at the explanation of this Lady Ghost. "How intriguing. Far be it from me, however, to try and find out someones secret." So he says, anyway. "Of course you aren't," he assures Anais with a look of perfect sincerity. Maybe a little too perfect.
Tia glances out at the dance floor, watching the dancers as they twirl hither and yon. A little wistfully. Yes, she would like to still be out there. Another sip of her wine, and the glass is finished and put down with a slight sigh. Then she turns, finding herself facing Saethwyr rather unexpectedly. A smile slowly crosses her face. "Ser Charlton," she greets with a polite curtsey.
Kamron grins over at Saffron as she explains, reaching up with his right hand to draw a cross over his heart, "And that's all the more name anyone will be getting from me, Lady Saffron." He finishes off his wine, stepping over to set the goblet on a nearby table and grin toothily at Inigo, "Well… I'd hurt myself, that's for sure." No lack of ego there, although at least it's said jovially and in jest, rather than with any seriousness. Especially after the other knight decides not to press, "You would be the first, Ser Inigo."
"Your inheritance is a concern," Rosanna tells Rutger in that same quiet voice that's easily lost within the noise of the party. There is a certain determined boldness to her dark eyes as she lifts her gaze to his face for their dance. "And your sons."
"Honestly, Lord Kamron, there's no point in carrying a lady's favor if you aren't going to admit who the lady is," Anais teases the Mallister lord, arching a brow suspiciously at Inigo before breaking into another grin. "The whole point of carrying a lady's favor is to bring honor to her name! Her /name/."
"Ah." Rutger replies as he keeps his voice aligned with hers. "I can assure you, the Mire is mine, and my inheritance is quite safe." A nod there before he is looking back to Rosanna. "Ah my sons." he adds, a small frown forming for a moment. "I am sure. Should such a blessed thing be accepted by our families, that my own sons would do what is right for our House."
A brief glance is given to the dance floor at Tiaryn's wistful look given to it. And then his dark-eyed gaze returns to her, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Lady Flint," Saethwyr greets her, bowing carefully to her. Carefully because of his injuries from the melee, alas. He offers her his left hand, then. "Would you care to dance, my Lady?" he offers, watching her.
The Banefort lady gives Kamron her best scowl, shaking her head. "I will find out one day, Ser Kamron, that I swear." Then she glances toward Anais with a slight smile, and shake of her head. "You needn't even try that tactic, cousin… I said the same thing, and still I received nothing. Not even the first letter of her name. I've tried every tactic I could think of, but she will remain his secret until he is ready to reveal her."
"Is it?" Rosanna wonders, arching her brow. "Lady Isolde still bears your late brother's child." She catches her bottom lip briefly between her teeth before pressing on that final point: "How?"
Tia's smile increases in wattage at Saethwyr's question, and she nods her head, before she can find words. "I would greatly enjoy dancing with you, Lord Charlton," she says softly, almost shyly. She takes a breath, and then reaches to take Saethwyr's hand, to let him lead her out on the dance floor.
"Keep his glass from going dry," Inigo asides to Saffron, giving advice for how she might be able to get a name out of Kamron. It is not a very secret aside, though, able to be overheard. "I think it would be best if your arm remained socket-ed for the rest of the evening, ser," he says to Kamron himself, not lacking in ego himself though he also speaks with good cheer. "What would you talk about if not for Ser Kamron's mystery Lady, then? Is it not enough that Lady in question knows he wears her favor?"
Kamron shakes his head at Anais, "The Lady Ghost knows that I carried her favor, and if there was any honor to be won in my carrying it, she knows it was in her name." His good shoulder rises and falls lightly, "That's enough for me, Lady Terrick." He shrugs again a little helplessly at Saffron's words, his grin going crooked. Looking around the room, he chuckles softly, "You know, I think this might be a tactic by the non-knightly Lords, to monopolize the dance floor and the attention of the Ladies while the rest of us are nursing hurts from the joust or the melee."
Is it just his imagination, or is she smiling brighter at him than at the others? Something to consider, perhaps. And Saethwyr smiles warmly at her as her hand is placed in his. "It is an honour, Lady Flint," he says softly, inclining his head to her. He gently draws her to her feet, and then guides her over to the dance floor before speaking more quietly to her, in almost a whisper. "I do apologize in advance, my Lady, for if I might happen to tread upon your toes, but I will do all I can to prevent it."
"I bet it doesn't belong to anyone," Anais muses, leaning closer to Saffron in a mock whisper. "I bet the person you saw walking away was a laundress, who was actually returning all that remained of his finest white shirt when she tried to get some wine stains out of it and failed horribly." Because it's way more fun to make things up than consider the truth.
"I believe so." Rutger adds on as he continues to dance closely with Rosanna. "But, if your family is hesitant, we can wait." Again something he will need to press with his father. A bit of a brief pause though before he is leaning his head a scootch closer. "Well, lady..I know the sept needs strong men in order to serve diligently in the faith. And Aronn is more bookish than his brother.." HINT HINT
Saffron grins toward Kamron to meet his own crooked smile, though she laughs warmly to Inigo's suggestion. "I'm afraid that Ser Kamron is far too honorable to let a lady get him drunk." Then she glances over toward Anais, and she gives a small scoff. "Well, this was the most elegantly poised laundress I have ever seen." And of course, like most things concerning Saffron, the moment she is actually relaxing, something comes along to remind her that not everything is fun and games! One of the cupbearers has been given a message, and it is delivered to Saffron who steps aside a bit to read the notes contents. She exhales then, folding up the bit of parchment before she looks over at the others. "It looks as though morning engagements have drawn this night to a close." She looks to the pair of knights, offering a gentle curtsey. "Thank you for the company, and thank you for the dance, Ser Kamron." Then she looks to Anais. "I'll of course talk to you later, Cousin."
Tia might be smiling more brightly at Saethwyr, she might. But they aren't here to see it, right? She leans a bit closer to hear his softly spoken words, and then she chuckles softly. "I shall endeavor to be agile and stay away from any such steps, but I have confidence that you are an able dancer," she says. She reaches to touch Saethwyr only as the dance calls for, being as appropriate here as she has been with the rest of her dancing. "How are you faring after the melee?" she asks softly.
"I see." There is something sharp about the cut of Rosanna's smile as she looks up at Rutger from beneath the shade of copper lashes. "Well, my lord. If you truly wish to marry me, those are your obstacles. And, naturally, the rumors that you have a predilection for strangling your wives."
"And I can assure you, each obstacle is one that is easily removed." A nod there before Rutger is slowing in the dancing. If anything-he just holds the Lady there, so that she can see the seriousness in the Lord's words and conviction. "Ah those rumors. My lady- I have never strangled a woman.." hookers don't count. "Nor did I strangle my wife. She died of the flu, as her septa and my Maester can attend. As can I, as I caught it from her, but lived." A pause there. "I do earnestly want to marry you, and will do anything to see it happen."
Ah, but Saethwyr is there to see it, and he notices. He quirks a smile to her in return, and then he gives a small nod to what she says. "Then I shall do my best to live up to your expectations, my Lady," he says softly, his dark eyes showing a sparkle to them. Being a proper gentleman, he touches Tiaryn as the dance calls for as well, respecting her and propriety. "I am faring well enough, my Lady. The bruises will heal," he says with a smile. As will the injuries beneath the bruises — the ones he doesn't mention.
"Perhaps this might be a tactic by the non-knightly Lords, but it is not they who are most recently on the minds of the Ladies here, yes? Some of us may be sporting bruises, but at least we were seen and thought of," Inigo says after a moment of pondering the idea. "Maybe she was a very beautiful laundress," he suggests to Anais. "That is indeed too much honor," he jests to Saffron's comments. Poor Kamron. Inigo keeps switching sides in this conversation. "Good evening, my lady," he farewells with a flourish of a bow (and a wince for doing so, oops) as Saffron says her goodbyes.
Kamron turns his bright, crooked smile toward Anais, his right hand slipping into the sling holding his left arm to his chest. He grimaces slightly as he roots around for a moment, and then he withdraws handkerchief, white with neat embroidery of the yellow-brown thread most usually used in place of gold. It's abstract stitchery, but well done, and his fingers cover any monogram which may be stitched onto the cloth. He bows his head to Saffron, tucking the favor back within his sling as he straightens up once more, "It was my pleasure, Lady Saffron. Thank you for making me look halfway competent." He nods to Inigo, "Very true. It's the sort of halfway-there thinking that non-Knightly lords tend toward." He's totally not dignifying the laundress story with any response.
"Then remove them," Rosanna says simply. "I am doing what I can, my lord. You must do as well." And then she is all smiles once more, returning her focus to the dance at hand.
"Of course," Anais agrees with Saffron, leaning over to brush a kiss to her cheek. "Take care, Saffron," she murmurs warmly, settling back in her chair to consider her empty wine glass. "No one said laundresses can't be graceful," she agrees with Inigo, smile creeping across her features once more. There is the briefest moment when Kamron pulls that handkerchief out where it looks like she might pounce…but she restrains herself. Barely. Even if she watches his sling very closely afterwards.
A dance is a good thing, if you ask most of the ladies here. And those men, like Ser Kittridge, who can dance are in high demand. As are those willing to try. Of course, though there are others on the dance floor, Tia is not really noticing, even if they pass Rutger and Rosanna. She's busy watching Saethwyr, just a little more focused perhaps than with her previous partners. "Good, I'm glad to hear it. I was somewhat worried about you," she admits, as the dance steps bring them together, and then she's whirling away, skirts flaring as she takes the appropriate steps for the dance.
Inigo does look curiously at the handkerchief as Kamron shows it off, running a finger down the line of his jaw and over the short bristle of his well-kempt beard as he thinks. He does not, however, pounce or look like he will. "The non-Knightly Lords do have the advantage of not having been repeatedly hit in the head, I will grant them that."
Kamron points a finger at Anais, "You would -not- re-injure my arm, would you, Lady Terrick? I may, however, say that My Lady Ghost is not a laundress. She is a noble lady of good birth and station." Turning his attention back to Inigo, he chuckles, pointing up toward the still-pink scar over his right eyebrow, "They keep hitting me over the head, it keeps not helping them any. I wonder when they'll learn that it's tougher than my breastplate?"
Saethwyr is as equally focussed upon the lady that he dances with, his dark gaze not straying from her at all. "I am sorry, my Lady. I didn't mean to cause you such worry," he says gently, inclining his head to her. The words are sincere, and the gesture is enough to cause some of his hair to fall forward to veil one of his eyes. "I would apologize, as well, for not coming out better in the melee and bringing the proper honour to your favour that you graced me with," he says softly, a bit of colour coming to his cheeks. "Your dress is almost as lovely as what you are, my Lady," he says softly, a smile lighting to his features.
"Who, me?" Anais flutters her lashes innocently at Kamron. "However could I injure such a fearsome knight as yourself, Ser Kamron?" Of course, the innocence doesn't last long after that, as the smile turns wicked with a sidelong glance to Inigo. "I bet it's his cousin. Lady Muirenn is a noble lady of good birth and station, after all."
"Well, that's a couple steps closer to solving the mystery. Nothing wrong with a graceful laundress, though." Inigo seems amiable enough to chatting about it without need to eye Kamron as if making plans to steal the favor. "Nothing wrong with cousins, either. Although that would hardly be something to hide. Unless you are just trying to be mysterious."
Tia offers a smile in return, reaching forward instinctively as the dance draws them near to push that hair back out of Sae's face so she can see his eyes. "I think I will probably always worry," she suggests, a little ruefully. "I always have." The dance pulls them away again, and she waits until the steps bring them back close together again, before she continues. "And no apology is needed. You fought with grace and honour." Though her cheeks go just a little bit pink at Sae's next compliment. "I'm sure it is the beauty of the dress that makes it seem so but thank you for the kind compliment."
Rutger is silent there before he simply nods. "They will be removed." Though he does leave out, when you give me sons. A promise there, but of course, how it will flesh out will be seen. "Believe me, after this night, I am sure we can press our case. This tournament, has helped us both, greatly."
Rosanna just smiles at Rutger with a sly slide of expression, but she says nothing. She simply keeps her steps light and graceful through the dance as it continues.
Kamron shakes his head slowly at Anais, "Not. Fooling. Anyone, Lady Terrick." He makes a helpless gesture with his right hand, "I would have gladly worn Lady Muirenn's favor, actually." A crafty little smirk gathers at one corner of his lips, "I would have asked for it, actually, but I believe that she was hoping that someone else would ask for it, although she didn't tell -me- who that might have been." Bowing his head slightly, "And now that I have enticed you all, I think I will get myself some rest as well. Lady Terrick, some time when I'm not hurt, I would like to request a dance from you as well. You do seem to enjoy it so much."
Anais wrinkles her nose at Kamron, though she can't hold it for long, breaking into a laugh when he mentions dancing. "I do believe I owe you a dance now, Ser Kamron," she says with a dip of her own chin. "Thank you again for dancing with Saffron," she adds, more genuine. "She needed that right now. And I will be happy to repay that debt whenever you like." See? It's almost like an apology for manipulation. "Besides, I'm sure Lord Inigo will help me find out who your Lady Ghost is," she adds with a grin for the man in question.
Saethwyr raises an eyebrow slightly, his dark gaze turning to the touch of her hand, and he smiles in response to it. It's a touching and welcome gesture, he finds it, not that he's free to admit such a thing. "As perhaps shall I, for your safety as well, my Lady," he says softly, his dark eyes showing a sparkle to him. Her guard did, after all, let another knight tumble into her and knock her down. "Thank you, my Lady. It is very kind of you to say so," he says softly, a thoughtful note to his voice. "And I would think it more you than the dress, Lady Tiaryn, as I thought you lovely when I saw you in a different one as well," he says sincerely giving a small nod to her.
<FS3> Tiaryn rolls Dancing: Success.
Rutger returns the smile, as he continues to whisk the Lady Groves around the dance floor. And possibly to a corner, secluded should Day not be watching..Though knowing his luck, it will likely just be around the dance floor. around and around.
Rutger wishes. They will just have to keep dancing.
Tia has to admit though that it's been a long and fun evening dancing. She does wince a bit as she can feel the strain on her knee, still managing to dance to the end of the song. As the music comes to a temporary halt, she hides the wince as she curtseys. "Thank you, Lord Saethwyr. But I think it is perhaps time to call this dance a success. I should head back to the pavillion and get some rest." She has a maid and guard around somewhere, last she checked.
"Enticing is such hard work," Inigo says with a laugh. Because he wouldn't need to rest from, say, the dancing or his wounds. "Have a good evening, Ser. Take care of that arm." And presumably the rest of his injuries as well. "I see I've been pulled in to solve the mystery now," he says with a click of his tongue and continues dramatically, "I see restless nights of pondering in my future." Or not.
Saethwyr tilts his head slightly to one side as he watches her with the dance having ended. Ah, alas, they are sometimes too short. He keeps hold of one of her hands, though, and then he gives a nod to her. "Thank you as well, Lady Tiaryn. You are a lovely dancer, and most graceful," he says softly. Not that he danced with anyone else tonight to have a comparison, but he has danced before. "I will escort you back to the pavillion, if you wish, and an honour it would be to do so," he says softly, bowing slightly and carefully to her.
Kamron bows his head at Anais' words, "Definitely not a hardship, Lady Terrick. And you can both investigate all you like. I'll not stop you, but neither will I be helping." He nods his head once more, "Good evening to you both." And then he's turning about to depart. On the way out, he spots Rutger, raising his good arm slightly to the man, but absolutely not expecting him to see it, since he's currently whirling about the dance floor.