|Two Birds with Heavy Stones|
|Summary:||Cherise and Danae chat about recent events.|
|Related Logs:||A Seed to Aid|
|Tordane Campsite, Outskirts of Stonebridge|
|Room desc goes here!|
|Wed May 30, 289|
The main tent of the Stone Camp is sparse and austere as the lady within it, the Septon Streem having just so recently taken his leave of her. Seated a small table, Danae stares down at a bit of parchment with quill in hand, face cupped in her palm as she frowns down at wood top. The paper bears no marks, nor has the ink been opened.
Just as ordered earlier the silence is broken by a young woman's announcement of arrival and soon the leather flap opens. In walks in Darra, one of lady Cherise's handmaidens with a tray followed by others. One with another tray and the last with two bottles of wine. All three make their muted gestures of greeting before situating these items upon a table. "M'lady Charlton has seen fit to see that a meal was provided for you." A hearty one at that were decadent spices and still heated meats fragrant the air.
It wasn't before long the lady herself would emerge into the tent, obviously leaving her guardsman outside. "Oh good, your meeting is over." She tells Danae just as the sounds of table arranging fills the air. "Wine." Cherise commands as she draws further inside with both arms entwined within the peach colored shawl that wraps around her torso. "That handsome knight had mentioned you were occupied." She pauses, a trademark smirk curls on her lips, "How are you cousin?"
Pale brows lift as Darra slips into the tent without invitation and proceeds to make preparations for supper, leanding Daane to shift back from the table to allow them their work with ease. "My cousin is most kind, Mistress Darra," Danae offers in soft bemusement, leaving the servents to their work. Upon Cherise's entrance, she rises with a slight smile to greet her cousin. "Dear one, I am surprised you did not just decide to join us. A welcome, if unexpected surprise as you are. And by the handsome knight, I presume you mean Ser Alek," she notes softly, incling her head towards the other woman. "Never lacking for interest of late and hale enough." Her blue eyed gaze flits towards the women, further words lingering on her tongue before silenced with a shake of her head. "And you?"
"I had only some moments to spare and was soon due to return to my son." She replies easily enough while waiting for the goblet of wine as another was procured for her cousin, Danae. Cherise drew closer, laying claim to a wooden seat opposite of her kin while sharing the same table. "Ah yes, Ser Alek. One of the many blessings bestowed upon we as highborns ever tempted by the frame of a pretty face and handsome form to lighten our thoughts and sweeten are dreams as they subserviently wield their swords and shields for our lives." With the cup in hand she reclines against the chair in a comfortable lounge. "Well, attending the tournament was perhaps the best remedy for a unsettled woman. It reminded me of all those times we had managed to witness those in the Westerlands. The fanciful dreams we entertained at which male should best the other, weaving colorful futures for ourselves that is a young girl's wont." Although it was likely Cherise doing all the weaving for both their futures. "Had your council faired well?" She drinks from her cup, naturally interested in her cousin's activities.
"How is your little darling? Twice blessed by the mother and hale, I hope." The words are fond, warmed by true familial affection. Gently taking that procured glass of wine, Danae joins her cousin at the small table, restlessly righting her skirts with a slight smile. "To hear him speak, one might think he takes a particular pleasure in serving those dreams as best he can, dear one," she says slowly, taking a drink of her wine. The reminisce draws a quiet, unexpected chuckle to rise from her throat — laughter barely heard of late. "As I recall, you spun dreams enough for the pair of us. And…were quite without comfort that one summer that you failed to convince the Lannister knight to ask for your favor, which was just as well with his poor showing in the lists. He clearly needed it." Of course, she was. Who else? "Well enough, I am to see Lord Jerold Terrick this week and speak with him on the…events. Better that it is heard from me so well as those Nayland fangs." There is simply fact in her flat statement, the air of a task much needing to be done.
Recalling the memory Cherise responded with a heavy scoff, "He was an idiot, that stupid, stupid man. I hope he's too fat for his horse." Clearly not over such a slighting, the woman partially turned in her chair, resting an elbow along the back while the goblet still rested in her hand. "Aerick is well, a touch more attentive to those within his sights. He is oh so very lovely and he serves as a reminder that these moments should be treasured while he remains so very little." A fond smile follows her sharing of the young Charlton. "Why should you need to speak to the Lord Terrick? What authoritative measure has he over these events?" None. "He should tend to the matters of his own house where bound women have loose limbs."
"Well, he was too stupid to handle it well to start with," Danae opines acidly, taking a sip of wine. There is little self-consciousness for her own skills in regard to the hell beasts. A honestly pleased smile warms her features at the news of her nephew, soft in thinking of the sweet lad. "As it should be." Little babe. Blonde hair gleams as she shakes her head shortly, fingers tapping the edge of her goblet lightly. "It is not need, dear one but simple manners. My husband held a bond with his family and however unlikely that their…kind words will be directed towards me," as was in evidence at the tourney, "It is still what should be done." A sip is taken of wine. "Loose limbs? A Terrick bride behaving badly then?"
The Lannister knight had a name, something she's purposely forgotten but not his stupid pretty face. With some effort, the Charlton woman had schooled her features into a pleasant display when thoughts of her son returned. "Should that bond hold a memory with the Terricks their flea infested asses best remember to be kind and not scold as if you are some child." Cherise waved a pair of fingers towards Darra, signalling the meal is to be delivered. While waiting the pair of Westerling kin shall continue to converse. "Indeed, many folks whisper of the Poor Lady Anais. Perhaps she barted her goods for goods for her people." The woman comments absently. "You know the Lord Terrick allowed the Nayland woman to become a squire. Just imagine, a high born lady surrounded by men of her choosing with no assurances granted as to her honor." Darra then delivers a tray of meats with spiced fruits sliced and peeled. "She was in Stonebridge often, that Lady Terrick, begging for hand out and your broken hearted Lord Regent bled all over her outstretched hands." Cherise drinks again.
"It shall be a unique pleasure, no doubt," Danae demurs delicately, arching her brows pointedly at the thought. "I have no personal quarell with the Terricks. I look forward to seeing their Lady daughter Lucienne again, estimable lady as she is." When the meal is signalled, she sets aside her goblet with lazy attention, shifting comfortably in her seat. "Unsavory rumors in all. The broken-hearted Lord Regent surely took no time to find new balm for that shattering, did he?" The acid that touches her words is unmistakeable, pale eyes sharp beneath a flutter of blonde lashes. "Perhaps some will see little purchase in his claims that I broke it previously, proving himself a philander as he is." Lifting a hand, she spears a piece of spiced fruit with a table knife and lazily takes a nip of it. "Do you know, I met the Nayland Knight-Woman? Interesting thing. She came to speak with me not long after my husband's passing, she is…strong featured enough that I can see how one might mistake her for a boy. But…" She shakes her head at the scandalousness of it.
"No time at all." She agreed, probing the wound while readjusting her placement at the table in order to sample the meal. Echoing her kin, Cherise tastes at the sweetened fruit, first shaking her head. "No, I had not. How do they I mean how unfortunate that the woman could pass for a man. No breasts I wager?" Thin blond eyebrows perk at her own inquiry.
The next piece of fruit is stabbed with a solid thunk, before it is lifted to Danae's lips with a ladylike smile. What wound? There is nothing but smooth, clam edges here — at least so far as can be sen in Danae's expression reveals. "Mhmm. Slight, I would say? Not without curves, but of that slim demeanor." She gestures briefly with her knife to indicate the sort, sketching a fascimile of Rowenna's figure in the air. "Nice. For a Nayland. All of them are so quick to inform me that they do not seek to see me dead, kind of them."
After chewing a slice of fruit, her eyes sweep to unfortunate pear speared by Danae's calm edge. "Your death will certainly pave the road to their claim less troublesome. The Lady Valda may call me friend once again while House Charlton had wagered and lost their purse's interests." She effortlessly shares. "Though none of that will come to pass my sweet cousin. You will give birth to a son even if we must carve one from a whore's belly." Cherise calmly begins slicing her own choice of pork into smaller bites. "Otherwise Westerling is laid into further ruin, the Naylands regain Stonebridge, you, dear cousin, shall for ever be marred by any prospects of marriage as well ass support of friends and kin." Should Charlton choose to turn a cheek. "And death will become a sweet temptress."
"If they manage, please enjoy the adders company with my blessing and see to it that my knights do not throw themselves on spears too quickly, if you don't mind," Danae offers and requests in turn, sounding quite complacent on the subject of her death. "I admit that it surprises me that they do not attempt it openly, in honesty." The pear is given a slow nibble as the Tordane lady takes time to savor the flavor. That all may come to pass, indeed. It is Cherise's kindness that sees it mentioned so openly in good company and Danae simply listens. It is not a simple gamble nor a safe one. "You speak truth, dear one. Well as I know it — although, it may not be necessary to steal from a whore's womb," she notes vaguely, polishing off the last bite of pear in a nip. "Should I die…would you see me laid in ash beneath an apple tree?" Blue eyes lift from the meal, looking to meet Cherise's with due seirousness. The question is not a joke.
She approved of the meal for she had no intention to scold Darra for a bland meal. "They are not fools Dane. I suspect they wish to drown you out in dishonor, scandal, or otherwise so their hands remain clean." After a moment she side talks, "As clean as they may be." Through their conversation Cherise does reach for her goblet, raising it high enough to gain the attention of one of her handmaidens for a refill without wasting breath on a sharp command. When her cousin made a request, the woman sat still for a moment, abandoning her knife upon the table so that she may be about to stretch her hand across the distance and lay a warm hand over Danaes. "Should your death come to pass I will have the tree planted myself, in our soon to be constructed lands, in Highfield." She gives a squeeze, understanding the severity of such a request. Anywhere else and she may not be able to guarantee the longevity of the apple tree. "But as you say, stealing from a whore may not be necessary, I still sense the hint of chance it might be." Retracting her hand as the servant returns, filling her goblet, the same is also offered to Lady Tordane as well. "How are you so certain and please do not tell me that Bastard was a stallion."
"Clean as they may be, they have no mean reputation of their own in the Riverlands." The Nayland family. Her pale eyes soften as Cherise lays her hand over her own, loosing little of their seriousness but revealing more of their heart. "Thank you," Danae whispers lowly. "I have not yet had my…monthly flowering," Danae replies with the utmost gentility, voice soft as to not be overheard. "It is too soon to mention officially, but. If it is else, I will take — measures to see done what msut be done." It seems likely. Then abruptly, she laughs. "Gods. I would not say such. He was pleasant, but no man is so…" The lack of a word comes to a head. "…so much as they wish to claim otherwise."
"That is what I hoped to hear." Cherise tells her, pushing aside a selection of meat for another. "Pleasant…" The lady echos. "Not a word I should describe the act between husband and wife. A jaunt along the coastal shores of the Crag is pleasant. A stroll through a newly stocked market with imported silks and colored glass is pleasant. What transpires between a man or woman is…" The lady Charlton smiles fondly while searching for an appropriate description. "Exciting."
"Mhmm." Danae coughs at Cherise's erudite assassination of her previous word choice, half-sputtering the sip of wine she had just attempted to swallow. That. "Well, then far be it from me to put shade of my husband's…skills. He was sweet, I suppose that might be a — appropriate term for it." She's just going to cut her meat now, secretive smile curving her lips.
Watching Danae fluster over the topic, drawing her own smile to deepen. "I suppose." Cherise allows a few moments of silence to pass over before unnecessarily continuing the topic. "I am surprised I have the ability to stand on some days." She shares unabashedly. "Was he, your late husband, like some new born calf, struggling to find his ground? How awkward would that have been cousin?" Her tone turns mocking with grand hand gestures suitable for the theater, "Yes I am with child, miraculous I know, as it wildly and aggressively flapped every which way yet not in me!" Unable to help herself Cherise erupted into laughter. "No no, I do not suppose anything like that."
Wiping her lips, Danae licks a drop of wine from her middle finger and watches her cousin with bright, wary eyes. "Well, in that case he would have had to have hit something," she offers cautiously, joke dry on her tongue. That composure doesn't last long and a chuckle bubbles up as Cherise sinks into laughter. "There is something to be said of a man knowing his manner between the sheets…and of having seen that ridiculous book of Cordelya's ahead of time." Oh my. "You suppose something rather more wicked then? My, dear one."
"At the very least." Cherise murmurs, agreeing, over her goblet of wine and savoring a few sips or two before gently setting her cup onto the table. "Oh? Had you attempted any of those movements?" She asks all too curious. "I had dared not to speak to Aleister about that book. I am a touch fearful of how imaginative that mind of his is."
Cherise's short sips allows Danae to take one of her own, being certain that she won't accidentally sputter it again in laughter. "Some of them were more…basic," she muses, her smile was slightly visible. It is a smart precaution as she laughs shortly after. "I should imagine he'll seek a copy of his own. Although, that is remarkable imagination if it fills you with wobbly kneed fears."
"Basic. Safe." She tells Danae after inserting another slice of meat into her mouth, chewing while at the same time smiling all too large. "Anything more would have given him doubt to question your 'pristine' honor." Another problem that may have risen out of all of this. "Oh, I do not know if you have heard though it seems the Lady Tiaryn is very much interested in my cousin, Ser Saethwyr. I shared this news with my husband and he, as expected, laughed. Finding amusement in the knowledge."
"Dear one, I think he was just pleased when my blush settled enough for him to kiss me without fear for me fainting," Danae admits dryly, neatly cutting up her own meat. She pauses to properly chew and swallow her food. "It took awhile to be certain of this fact. There was no doubt about my honor, despite cruel rumors." A thing that will rise no further. "No? I had not heard. And why does Aleister find that so amusing…a poor match?"
Listening, the Charlton woman does turn her cheek in addressing her handmaidens. "Leave us." The three women are told, no longer needing to remain presence for the remainder of the lady's visit here. Once they have gone, the lady speaks openly. "Then, the envoy, he favored your claim that the Regent words were fabricated?"
Soft laughter echos over the lady's cup, "I am certain they enjoy it. You remember, how long ago the Lords would bed the smallfolk virgins on their wedding night? I believe that is a joy for the lords we'll never understand. Something you gave your husband and solely his." The lady does shrug a touch, "But yes, a poor match. Lady Flint had mentioned possibly speaking to my husband to propose that Ser Saethwyr serve as a guard to Lady Tiaryn. I myself am a touch conflicted given my brother held deep affections for the woman. I do not wish to believe she toyed with my brother's heart." Had she, the woman dare not speak of it. "No matter… we should continue to enjoy our meal hmm? Before you depart for the Roost I suggest speaking with my husband. He may have thoughts to weigh in on the matter."